Boysenberry Eyes Awhirl
A Caseworker's Nightmare
In a corner of the room
scribbles of loose yarn soar,
interweave and dive
like coasters at a carnival.
At dusk rats slither from the drain
and barrel through the room
stirring atom puffs of dust
beneath the paper sprung
tongue out from each wall.
Tails wound tight, the rats
skate their figure eights
between the table legs and swirl.
They pause to supper on salami bits,
gherkin nodes, crusts of ancient bread.
At dawn, with boysenberry eyes awhirl,
they belly back and leap atop the sink.
Popping sounds announce
the drain has called them home.
poem by Donal Mahoney
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Night Runners Competition Counted
we enjoy counting the rats
running around at night,
when we are arriving home
on our faithful motorbike,
usually two or three rats to see,
Kayla and I have a competition
counting first spied rats we see,
who can spot local drain rats first
the biggest rats seen truthfully
are as big as healthy pet cats,
we go look at pets frequently
in BSD once a week we peep,
in at a pet shop when we watch,
a movie in expedition BSD every week
a family movie is a special treat,
our two happy daughters think it so neat
our neigbour concreted over their open drain
next door rats love their drains seldom stray,
so less rats outside rats too close we do disdain
rats who venture close in life peril cannot stay,
if any bold rats venture into our house ceiling,
these rats are disposed of poisoned very quickly
our rule is no entry for any rats poison strictly,
tropical rat best learn trespass has no pity feeling.
poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Admit The Rat (Interlude)
I got a story
bout all these rats
all the sewer rats
all these gun rats
im talkin bout all these gold diggen rats
these hood rats
my grandmothers a rat
she's just an old school rat
my mothers a rat
she's just a high class rat
my sisters rats
she's just a middle class rat
my cousins rats
they just low class rats
im tired of rats tryin to get into my boyz pockets
im tired of rats tryin to ride around in my cars
im tired of rats talkin all that jibber jabber to their friends
but ond day these rats are gonna be straight
no diss to rats
cuz there are some rats that i love too
my message to you today is admit the rat in you
to all women admitt the rat in you
admit the rat in you
admit the rat in you
admit the rat in you
song performed by by Next
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Admit The Rat
I got a story
Bout all these rats
All the sewer rats
All these gun rats
Im talkin bout all these gold diggen rats
These hood rats
My grandmothers a rat
Shes just an old school rat
My mothers a rat
Shes just a high class rat
My sisters rats
Shes just a middle class rat
My cousins rats
They just low class rats
Im tired of rats tryin to get into my boyz pockets
Im tired of rats tryin to ride around in my cars
Im tired of rats talkin all that jibber jabber to their friends
But ond day these rats are gonna be straight
No diss to rats
Cuz there are some rats that I love too
My message to you today is admit the rat in you
To all women admitt the rat in you
Admit the rat in you
Admit the rat in you
Admit the rat in you
song performed by by Next
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Young in New Orleans
starving there, sitting around the bars,
and at night walking the streets for
hours,
the moonlight always seemed fake
to me, maybe it was,
and in the French Quarter I watched
the horses and buggies going by,
everybody sitting high in the open
carriages, the black driver, and in
back the man and the woman,
usually young and always white.
and I was always white.
and hardly charmed by the
world.
New Orleans was a place to
hide.
I could piss away my life,
unmolested.
except for the rats.
the rats in my dark small room
very much resented sharing it
with me.
they were large and fearless
and stared at me with eyes
that spoke
an unblinking
death.
women were beyond me.
they saw something
depraved.
there was one waitress
a little older than
I, she rather smiled,
lingered when she
brought my
coffee.
that was plenty for
me, that was
enough.
there was something about
that city, though
it didn't let me feel guilty
that I had no feeling for the
things so many others
needed.
it let me alone.
sitting up in my bed
the llights out,
hearing the outside
sounds,
lifting my cheap
bottle of wine,
letting the warmth of
the grape
enter
me
as I heard the rats
moving about the
room,
I preferred them
to
humans.
being lost,
being crazy maybe
is not so bad
if you can be
that way
undisturbed.
New Orleans gave me
that.
nobody ever called
my name.
no telephone,
no car,
no job,
no
anything.
me and the
rats
and my youth,
one time,
that time
I knew
even through the
nothingness,
it was a
celebration
of something not to
do
but only
know.
poem by Charles Bukowski
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Slave To The Wage
Run away from all your boredom
Run away from all your whoredom and wave
Your worries and cares
Goodbye
All it takes is one decision
A lot of guts, a little vision to wave
Your worries and cares
Goodbye
Its a maze for rats to try
Its a maze for rats to try
Its a race, a race for rats
A race for rats to die
Its a race, a race for rats
A race for rats to die
Sick and tired of maggies farm
Shes a bitch with broken arms to wave
Your worries and cares
Goodbye
Its a maze for rats to try
Its a maze for rats to try
Its a race, a race for rats
A race for rats to die
Its a race, a race for rats
A race for rats to die
Its a race, a race for rats
A race for rats to die
Its a race, a race for rats
A race for rats to die
Burn away
Run away, run away
Run away, run away
Run away, run away
Run away, run away
song performed by by Placebo
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Home Truths
Seeking a Truth
The sewers under the abortion clinic
is where successful rats live and only
the strongest survives.
From the bland food of suburbia and
narrow minded excrements, unwilling
given back to the drains and nature.
These big rats have survived to sit by
the top table and be respected as those
who deserves a prize for endurance.
They live on sludge of fetuses, tiny fingers
small, beating hearts; also, clean livers;
and the rats grow and reason as humans
Rich rats now have an army of lesser
rats to defend them, nothing last always,
but for some it ended before it began.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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An Ode for David
Inspiration
From a lopsided table?
Words written down
Told as a fable
Strange request you have
My dear friend
Inspiration I will find
This I do intend
Wooden Table
Possess my tongue
Wintered table
Cry from my lungs
Pen striking paper
You shall be my muse
May the bleeding ink
Cry of your blues
Splintered skin
In a corner rest forgotten
Winding legs
You stand wild as cotton
Pen stroke slide
Across your lofty floor
Three legs you stand
When you should have four
Awkward table
You have no friend
Ancient table
You've reached your bitterend
Should my pen learn sea legs
I'd love you once more
But, on three legs you stand
When you should have four
poem by Kay Gardner
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Wind-Up Toy
Voices come from down the hall
In my room all painted white
I have my bat and rubber ball
I like to sleep with them at night
But now I'm all smiles
the good little shots must be winning
Yes, they crank my dial
My motor is stalled but my wheels are still spinning
Daddy won't discuss me
What a state I must be
Mommy couldn't stand living with a wind-up toy
All my friends live on the fllor
Tiny legs and tiny eyes
They're free to crawl under the door
And, and someday soon so will I
But now I'm all smiles
These good little shots must be working
I'm so happy now
Look, my fingers don't shake and my head isn't jerking
Daddy won't discuss me
What a pain I must be
Mommy couldn't stand having such a wound-up boy
Doctors want to check me
Poke me and dissect me
What do they expect?
Feelings froma wound-up toy?
I don't think so
I7m just a wound-up toy
I'm just a wind-up toy
I'm lost in a nightmare
Shiny white halls
Drawing rats on the wall
Solitary confinement
Chained in a cell
got my own private hell
Preacher crucifies me
Warden wants to fry me
I was never young
Never just a little boy
Daddy won't discuss me
What a pain I must be
Mama couldn't stand having such a wound-up boy
I'm just a wind-up toy
I'm a wind-up toy
I'm just a wind-up toy
I'm just a wind-up toy
You know, they come here every night
I see them, don't you see them?
Hmm....That's odd isn't it
I'm so tired, I'm winding down
You'll have to go now, it's bedtime!
Stephen.......
song performed by by Alice Cooper
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Rats (Life Poem)
Stepping through the building site of El Rancho,
The faded glory of the best hotel in Haiti once.
I think of “Old Times” when this was Paradise,
And a Rolls Royce collected you at the airport.
A seedy casino, neglect, an earthquake later,
Rats the size of cats show you to your room,
And “home from home” this is definitely not,
Everything turns to dust in the end, it seems.
Even us.
poem by Ian Beckett
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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In Your Room
In your room
Theres a bed in the corner
In your room
Theres a view over the town
In your room
Youre tipewriters telling stories
In your room
There are you waiting for me
When I look into your eyes
I look into a mirror
When I look into your eyes
I can see myself
Kings and queens
They have lost their heads
But i
Ive lost my heart
In your room
Id like to crawl into you
Come cover me with love
Id like to crawl into you
Come cover me with love
Till weve had enough
And we never get enough
There are worlds beneath the world
And they are covered under blankets
In your room
In your room
Dedicated to sonja
song performed by by Fury In The Slaughterhouse
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Time~
Time waits for no one
Tick tocking itself along
Even measured seconds
Morphing into minutes
Minutes into hours
Into days, months
And, yes years;
Where did it all?
Down the drain?
Much like the water
Draining in the sink...
This sink that we call life
This sink that once held it all...
The sink, my sink, once full now empty
Down the drain
Kind of like my life;
By, Theodora Onken
November 15,2012
poem by Theodora Onken
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Letter From The Wastland
Now coming down
From out of this swan dive
To your arms
I make no sounds
When I move through your reservoir
But I wake up quick
And I wake up sick
As you abandon me
Into these fields of rank and file
Through this crowd
I hear you breathing
And through these bars
I watch them bring more in
Now I send back letters
From the wasteland home
Where I slow dance
To this romance on my own
It may take two to tango
But boy, just one to let go
It's just one to let go
Now boy keep still
Don't spread yourself around
Get back in line
Eat your bread and just work the plow
'Cause you're not through
They're not done with you
Did you think you were
The only one that's been let down
So sleep tight
Little boys of the new damned
Another drop in the
Tidal wave of quicksand
Now I send back letters
From the wasteland home
Where I slow dance
To this romance on my own
It may take two to tango
But boy, just one to let go
It's just one to let go
Now another bad idea gets through
Down this assembly line to you
You're every bridge I should have burned
Every lesson I've unlearned
In this smoke-filled waiting room
With incarcerated love sick fools
I will wait for you to cut me loose
Till then I...
Send back letters
From the wasteland home
Where I slow dance
To this romance on my own
Now I send back letters
From the Wasteland home
Where I slow dance
To this romance on my own
song performed by by Wallflowers
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Letter From The Wastland
Now coming down
From out of this swan dive
To your arms
I make no sounds
When I move through your reservoir
But I wake up quick
And I wake up sick
As you abandon me
Into these fields of rank and file
Through this crowd
I hear you breathing
And through these bars
I watch them bring more in
Now I send back letters
From the wasteland home
Where I slow dance
To this romance on my own
It may take two to tango
But boy, just one to let go
It's just one to let go
Now boy keep still
Don't spread yourself around
Get back in line
Eat your bread and just work the plow
'Cause you're not through
They're not done with you
Did you think you were
The only one that's been let down
So sleep tight
Little boys of the new damned
Another drop in the
Tidal wave of quicksand
Now I send back letters
From the wasteland home
Where I slow dance
To this romance on my own
It may take two to tango
But boy, just one to let go
It's just one to let go
Now another bad idea gets through
Down this assembly line to you
You're every bridge I should have burned
Every lesson I've unlearned
In this smoke-filled waiting room
With incarcerated love sick fools
I will wait for you to cut me loose
Till then I...
Send back letters
From the wasteland home
Where I slow dance
To this romance on my own
Now I send back letters
From the Wasteland home
Where I slow dance
To this romance on my own
song performed by by Wallflowers
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Tongue Bath
Yeah, (ohhh), we got the hood rats in the house right
(Would you like a tongue bath babe)
They say they like tongue bath (from the back)
So, uh, we went and got Methron
But of course, it's the Ying-Yang Twins
Let me see you freak your body
I won't stop until you get enough
Anyway you want it, I'm with it
I just wanna get up in it
(You want a tongue bath, you need a tongue bath)
Let me see you freak your body
I won't stop until you get enough
A tongue bath, from the back
Oh yes, that's the way I like it
(You want a tongue bath, you need a tongue bath)
Forget about that Summer we stretched straight thuggin it up
In the tongue bath world we was loving it up
I've been told by the eye we were holding each other
To the room, sexual, of the Isley Brothers
Sippin' Alazez and Hennessee, straight thug passion
Licking nipples, got you gigglin', so you started to laugh
And now it's getting so erotic baby
All of a sudden so I'm kissing on your body baby
Admit it babb
See baby a tongue bath is what I like
Lick me up, lick me down, curve my appetite
Let me open up my legs, show me what you got
The way you licking on my body's got me really hot
And I'm loving the way you lick me though
Do it little daddy, let your tongue take control
You got me shaking like hell when you're licking my toes
From the top to the bottom, make your tongue roll
Let me see you freak your body
I won't stop until you get enough
Anyway you want it, I'm with it
I just wanna get up in it
(You want a tongue bath, you need a tongue bath)
Let me see you freak your body
I won't stop until you get enough
A tongue bath, from the back
Oh yes, that'
song performed by by Ying Yang Twins
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Slavery of Irony
In the Slavery of Irony
Illegitimate Nouns arrive
and the wall of Other erects
its own wall against
sins covered up
in the pursuit
a better life, middle class
in a zero sum
Stockholm Syndrome Society
where crumbs eat the people
disguised as rats
where rats are seen as another race entirely
People Rats who live off the garbage of prosperity
in India, in China in Mexico
poverty so fierce
that whole generations
are buried in the holes in the garbage
covered over by still more prosperity-garbage coming in
for the rat people to eat and sell;
and when they wander away for even a day
the are fed to the ego of passerbys
who blame them for smelling bad.
This new feudalism is the progress of the 21st century
where we shall all be buried one day in our own garbage
and beneath that collapse that is sure to come.
Even as the Rat People revolt and show up at our doors
some will say 'just a minute, will you' I need to get myself a 'latte.'
poem by Lonnie Hicks
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Rocky Racoon
Now somewhere in the black mountain hills of dakota
There lived a young boy named rocky raccoon
And one day his woman ran off with another guy
Hit young rocky in the eye, rocky didnt like that
He said Im gonna get that boy
So one day he walked into town
Booked himself a room in the local saloon
Rocky raccoon checked into his room
Only to find gideons bible
Rocky had come equipped with a gun
To shoot off the legs of his rival
His rival it seems had broken his dreams
By stealing the girl of his fancy
Her name was magil and she called herself lil
But everyone knew her as nancy
Now she and her man who called himself dan
Were in the next room at the hoe down
Rocky burst in and grinning a grin
He said danny boy this is a showdown
But daniel was hot - he drew first and shot
And rocky collapsed in the corner
Now the doctor came in stinking of gin
And proceeded to lie on the table
He said rocky you met your match
And rocky said, doc its only a scratch
And Ill be better, Ill be better doc as soon as I am able
Now rocky raccoon he fell back in his room
Only to find gideons bible
Gideon checked out and he left it no doubt
To help with good rockys revival
song performed by by Beatles
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Cat and Bat's Revenge
The day the cat
and the bat
ate the rat
'Now peace b'coz we don't need to fight
for the rat'
said the cat.
'OK.' said the bat who hanging upside down on the wall
his shadow looking grand and tall
but the rats of the other world were scared
b'coz one of them read
the agreement
now the fastest mouse made a plan
to cut the wires of the fan
so it fell on the cat,
but the bat
took the rat and ate all his fat
the rats were frightened
so they sent another robotic rat
to outwit the bat and cat
now the plan was ready
and it was also fine
but unluckily came the bad pine
of the tree
which always helped the cat and the bat flee
from the rats net
which would always fail b'coz of the bat's friend the pine tree
who would help them see
the wicked plans of the rats
and tell them to all the bats
oh poor rats
getting all eaten up by cats(and bats)
then came the wisest rat sniper the 'sniper'
he went and cut the tree
and didn’t let the cat
and the bat flee
he threw a pan
on the fan
which hit the cat
and the bat
on thier heads
so now they are saved
from the cat
and bat
but now what?
here comes a rat
who's on the side of the cat
and the bat
the wisest mouse got him in the team again and put him to deep
sleep
so the cat and the bat
ate the 'EVIL' rat.
poem by by unknown author
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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In From The Cold
In from the cold.
They have not chosen me
they have chosen salami
for breakfast, only
because I’m a thin sliced
chicken breast.
Have they no taste!
Bread crumbs and spies
sitting outside eating salami
on crusty bread,
miles away from real butter.
While just around the corner
there is a deli
selling salt beef and pickles.
Have they no taste!
poem by Oskar Hansen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Palm-Kernel-Chain Game
Chain Point One: The big cat may be away
But may appear any day
The Long-whiskered rats
Are pretending
NOW: a bait of palm kernels
Is strategically placed
The big cat
Pretends hiding
The rats
Start telegramming…
The cat is waiting
The rats are
Picking…!
The cat is inputting…
Chain Point Two: Palm kernel is the main gastronomy
And has national distribution-tag
NOW:
The cat is flying
The rats
Are sprinting
The feline rake
Is closing in
Some rats
Are hollering
Gripped furs
Are falling…!
Chain Point Three: Oh no lessons in the inner tray
No baiting chain breaks
NOW:
The big cat is away…
And
Again long-whiskered rats
Rush out
Again to rummage thru
Stately kept pantries
For
Fresh palm kernels
Chain Point One: A big cat may be away…
poem by by unknown author
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Pressed Rat & Warthog
By ginger baker and mike taylor
Pressed rat and warthog have closed down their shop.
They didnt want to; twas all they had got.
Selling atonal apples, amplified heat,
And pressed rats collection of dog legs and feet.
Sadly they left, telling no one goodbye.
Pressed rat wore red jodhpurs, warthog a striped tie.
Between them, they carried a three-legged sack,
Went straight round the corner and never came back.
Pressed rat and warthog have closed down their shop.
The bad captain madman had told them to stop
Selling atonal apples, amplified heat,
And pressed rats collection of dog legs and feet.
The bad captain madman had ordered their fate.
He laughed and stomped off with a nautical gate.
The gate turned into a deroga tree
And his pegleg got woodworm and broke into three.
Pressed rat and warthog have closed down their shop.
They didnt want to; twas all they had got.
Selling atonal apples, amplified heat,
And pressed rats collection of dog legs and feet.
song performed by by Eric Clapton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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