Yet we still see continuous reports of bugs.
quote by Vinton Cerf
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Gail
A tree has grown on the spot
Where her body did rest
Blood seeped into the soil
From the knife in her chest
The bugs serve time in her skeletal jail
I wonder how the bugs remember Gail
What a lovely young girl
Everybody would say
You can still hear her laugh
In the shadows on a cold winter's day
A dog dug up a bone and wagged it's tail
I wonder how the dog remembers Gail
The bugs serve time in her skeletal jail
I wonder how the bugs remember Gail
song performed by by Alice Cooper
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Inspector General issued six reviews and reports on actions taken based on provisions of the act. In those six reports, the IG found that not one violation of an individual's civil liberties - a total of zero - had taken place since the act was instituted.
Bugs Bunny! !
My honey bunny
Dunt be bugs bunny
Its matter of souls
Not a flare funny
The day I found ur soul
I was cherishd with love
Isn't it funny?
My bugs bunny!
Let's make it little better
Let's do it finer
Let s do it out of grinny
My honey bunny
Dunt be bugs bunny
Loves on mind
Peace in soul
Let's not make it funny
My honey bunny
Dunt b bugs bunny
poem by Somia Race
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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You and I are all as much continuous with the physical universe as a wave is continuous with the ocean.
quote by Alan Watts
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Bugs On Our Skin
The bugs are the bugles of nature for some,
Hurting is their tip, forming a lack of power;
The bugs have diverse rules, never to understand
As their bite is on this date, and the craft is clear.
The minding of these insects is immense,
Slowly we bite them with our strategy and tactics,
It takes the army some, the reality beckons
But we are in shivers for the pain and suffering.
Huge bugs will define us, what are our habits?
Their forewings and hindwings can handle their flight
To ruin our skin, with their feeding habits.
poem by Naveed Akram
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Daze
Bugs of all types,
Crawl on the wall.
They crawl onto my body,
And I just sit there.
I stare at the TV,
And ignore the bugs.
They crawl all over me,
Up on my face,
Down my legs,
On my arms,
Everywhere.
Someone comes in,
They see all the bugs,
Covering my body now.
They scream,
And try to get me uncovered.
I just sit there,
Doing nothing but watching,
The black screen.
Once they have me uncovered,
They shake me,
But I don't come out of my daze.
I sit there,
As they call nine-one-one.
Once they get here,
They try to,
Get me out of my daze.
But even they can't.
They just leave me there,
Sitting and staring,
At a black screen.
poem by Dragon Crenshaw
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Back then, my idol was Bugs Bunny, because I saw a cartoon of him playing ball - you know, the one where he plays every position himself with nobody else on the field but him? Now that I think of it, Bugs is still my idol. You have to love a ballplayer like that.
quote by Nomar Garciaparra
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Better biofuels are a really big deal. That means we can precisely engineer the molecules in the fuel chain and optimize them along the way. So, if all goes well, they're going to have designer bugs in warm vats that are eating and digesting sugars to excrete better biofuels. I guess that's better living through bugs.
quote by John Doerr
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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For good and evil, man is a free creative spirit. This produces the very queer world we live in, a world in continuous creation and therefore continuous change and insecurity.
quote by Joyce Cary
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Bugs Don’t Like Fire
Bugs don’t like fire,
or smoke,
they are so little
they choke.
Bugs do breath,
But you can’t see,
they also die from
Bug spray, so please,
just find another way,
not to pollute
and take away,
Their time here today.
Written on March 22nd 2011 by Christina Sunrise
poem by Christina Sunrise
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Bugs
What's that?
'Bugs!
They're all over the place!
And not one of them
Has the intelligence...
To take the taps off their shoes!
Why they want us to know they are around now,
When that has been known...
Long before bleeching creams,
Plastic surgery and hair processing!
Is a mystery! '
Well...
It's not who you know,
But how good you blow...
And get that flow going these days.
'Oh...
So these bugs are probably not aware,
They are only to perform 'inside' jobs?
And think being in 'here' will reveal something
They believe we can deliver?
They are 'way' off course!
We are at least 800 miles North of D.C.'
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Antique
Put me on the wall like she always do,
never been dusted off know she cheatin too,
beenin on the wall see everything like mini doll,
can't believe she keep blowing me off,
nothing but a antique put on a wall,
hear every sound see every fall,
see you cryin can't stand that you doing me wrong,
but its ok I forgive every winter,
when you tryin to auction me off,
can't stand that wall so dusted up there,
if I fall I'm going to break nobody cares,
Imagine me as a antique,
know it bugs you because it bugs me,
like bugs cause the glass has holes,
feeling so lonely up on a board walkway,
see you tomarrow girl in the same place,
I know she got gace but I don't see it,
when she cook bacon I have to smell it,
antique antique antique,
now lookin for change don't know if I find it,
nothing but a antique seeing & hearing everything.
poem by Tommy Laster
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sections Of A Book
This section deals with politics,
And this one economics.
I am a book of longevity,
Inexact and imprecise,
Like people who want long life.
They decide with self-interests,
As volumes are written on them.
Reports form hold on information
That came from longevity,
Loathing some of the reports
As politicians argue with economists
To form some new empire
In which we live and work
In happiness.
poem by Naveed Akram
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I have to think as Bugs Bunny, not of Bugs Bunny.
quote by Chuck Jones
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Answering Machine
We flew here to see you
My feelings and I
I looked down on the city
From up in the sky
The sun was reflecting
From the roofs and the water
Spring had come early
In the parks and the old town
I came with a mission
To patch up a dream
We walked and I talked and my words were absorbed
Into the answering machine
I came two thousand miles
Just to take a look at you
But you were broken and frozen
A heartbreak of a statue
In the bullet-proof mirrors
Where your eyes used to be
I stared at myself and I called for some help
Into the answering machine
The day slipped by and I tried and tried
You took me home and you said
"Goodnight, Sleep tight"
On the floor by the bedroom door
I watched you sleep and I left before first light
The bugs don't bite
The bugs don't bite
The bugs bite
From the land of the frozen
To the land of the low
We journeyed together
But we were always alone
So if I should come calling
Best not pick up the phone
Cause I'm no good for you and you're no good for me
Let me talk to the answering machine
I can cope with the answering machine
I'm a friend of the answering machine
song performed by by Marillion
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Web Of Lies
Caught in your web of lies,
and you can’t get out,
Your spider is doing time
In your prison of doubt.
Doubting now what is the truth,
You can’t keep it straight
and now it’s bugging you.
Yes, the lying bugs are going to start eating at your web,
Chewing on it and making it shred,
Shred to pieces for bugs are taking over thee,
They are in your mind and you can’t set them free.
Your mind is contaminated with your lying bug fleas,
Adding to your mind’s delusional state,
the state that you did make.
poem by Christina Sunrise (20 August 2011)
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Answering Machine
We flew here to see you
My feelings and i
I looked down on the city
From up in the sky
The sun was reflecting
From the roofs and the water
Spring had come early
In the parks and the old town
I came with a mission
To patch up a dream
We walked and I talked and my words were absorbed
Into the answering machine
I came two thousand miles
Just to take a look at you
But you were broken and frozen
A heartbreak of a statue
In the bulletproof mirrors where your eyes used to be
I stared at myself and I called for some help
Into the answering machine
The day slipped by and I tried and tried
You took me home and you said goodnight. sleep tight.
On the floor by the bedroom door
I watched you sleep and I left before first light
The bugs dont bite
The bugs dont bite
The bugs bite
From the land of the frozen
To the land of the low
We journeyed together
But we were always alone
So if I should come calling
Best not pick up the phone
Cause Im no good for you and youre no good for me
Let me talk to the answering machine
I can cope with the answering machine
Im a friend of the answering machine
song performed by by Marillion
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Chameleon Boy
A chameleon lies in the sizzling heat,
I watch it intently, pondering what color it will be,
Lying slack as can be, an ashen rock providing coziness.
I detest that chameleon; it looks like my ex-boyfriend.
A lazy deadbeat ass!
As if it heard me it moved his scaly head, turns to face me,
His protruding eyes open, his long slimy tongue slides out as if he tastes my scent in the air,
I feel a sense of anxiety as he looks at me with judgmental beady eyes, just as my boyfriend used to do.
His slimy tongue twisting on the rock catching bugs swarming in the air, poor bugs fly away! Don't let his slick tongue deceive you!
I feel for the helpless bugs, I was once a bug myself.
His color changes from ashen gray to avocado green, as he gets up, more deception,
With a final goodbye that chameleon leaves, unbeknown to him, he added salt to already fresh vulnerable wound.
poem by Francesca Marie
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The electroencephalogram represents a continuous curve with continuous oscillations in which... one can distinguish larger first order waves with an average duration of 90 milliseconds and smaller second order waves of an average duration of 35 milliseconds.
quote by Hans Berger
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Inspiration is not the exclusive privilege of poets or artists. There is, there has been, there will always be a certain group of people whom inspiration visits. It's made up of all those who've consciously chosen their calling and do their job with love and imagination. It may include doctors, teachers, gardeners — I could list a hundred more professions. Their work becomes one continuous adventure as long as they manage to keep discovering new challenges in it. Difficulties and setbacks never quell their curiosity. A swarm of new questions emerges from every problem that they solve. Whatever inspiration is, it's born from a continuous "I don't know."
quote by Wislawa Szymborska
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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