Re-Invent And Undo
Out from the woodwork they will come,
Like carpenter ants and termites to cut down...
Anything to upset and destruct,
With a plucking of nerves.
And venom striking tongues.
They are not readily noticed,
Until something unexpected...
They have heard validated,
Someone believed they did a doing done...
To have left their misdeeds trapping one in a web.
With a stinging that stung...
No one would survive to overcome.
Like carpenter ants and termites to cut down...
Anything to upset and destruct,
With a plucking of nerves.
And venom striking tongues.
Out from the woodwork they will come.
With a permanent stinging,
No one would survive to overcome....
To re-invent and undo with a renewed doing.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Socially An Accepted Activity
Does it really make a difference,
If carpenter ants or termites...
Are responsbile for the effects,
Of a crumbling structure known?
Both can gnaw galleries,
In dead or decayed wood.
Termites are often pale colored,
And live in colonies.
Maybe because they are called white ants...
And the carpenter ones are black.
Perhaps that is the reason,
When they destroy with ultimate devastation...
It is socially an accepted activity,
Than 'if' their presence had been of color.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Stinging Reply - 1915 - to Ogden Nash The Termite, Harry Graham Ruthless Rhymes and Hilaire Belloc
When termites knocked upon ants' door
they thought to conquer larval store;
how lucky vicious fire ant queen
nested above poor Auntie Jean,
for when upon the latter's bed
it fell and stung her quick and dead.
Her Will, found sound, Judge Jonas swore
that I'd inherit more and more!
From this one may gay moral glean,
auspicious chance and pastures green
fall to man mean who plans ahead,
blind termites leads to where ants bred.
(9 September 2009)
poem by Jonathan Robin
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A Stinging From A Venomous Tongue
What's been done...
Will always come back to be,
Left for another...
To be delivered,
And...received.
With a stinging from a venomous tongue.
And a stunning meaning to leave stung.
What's been done...
Will always come back to be,
Left for another...
To be delivered,
And...received.
With a stinging from a venomous tongue.
And a stunning meaning to leave stung.
And,
Deserved...
When,
Someone gets to receive...
A stunning meaning to leave stung.
From,
A stinging from a venomous tongue.
A stinging from a venomous tongue.
And,
Deserved...
When someone gets to receive,
A...
Stunning meaning to leave stung.
From...
Someone with a venomous tongue.
And a stinging of it meant to be done.
It's...
Deserved!
When someone gets to receive,
A...
Stunning meaning to leave stung.
From...
Someone with a venomous tongue.
And a stinging of it meant to be done.
A stinging of it meant to be done.
It's...
Deserved!
When someone gets to receive,
A stinging from a venomous tongue.
And a stinging of it meant to be done.
From someone with a venomous tongue.
It is deserved...
When someone gets to receive,
A...
Stinging from a venomous tongue.
With a venom spewed from someone.
It is deserved...
When someone gets to receive,
A...
Stinging from a venomous tongue.
With a venom spewed from someone.
It is deserved...
When someone gets to receive,
A...
Stinging from a venomous tongue.
With a venom spewed from someone.
It is deserved...
When someone gets to receive,
A...
Stinging from a venomous tongue.
With a venom spewed from someone.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Hmph...People
Leave me alone.
'Okay,
I will.'
I'm not talking to you.
'I see.
Then...
Who ARE you talking to? '
No one in particular.
It has been a while since I've said it.
And it is refreshing to know,
You weren't offended at all.
I remember the days,
My saying that would upset you.
'Why should I feel offended?
Or upset.
I was hoping you weren't going to ask me,
Where I am going? '
What?
Where are you going?
'That's none of your business.
And I'm hoping that doesn't offend.
Now you can practice not getting upset.'
Upset?
Why should I get upset?
You're trying to get me upset.
And I'm not a child.
You can do whatever you want.
Who cares?
I don't.
Upset?
Why should I get upset?
You're trying to get me upset.
You can do whatever you want.
Who cares?
I don't.
And what are you laughing about?
'I was only teasing.
I'm not going anywhere.'
Oh yes you are!
You're going to leave me alone.
'Okay,
I will.'
People!
They will do anything to get on your nerves.
Upset?
As if I was that easily provoked!
Hmph...people!
'I heard that.'
Who cares!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Out From The Woodwork
Out from the woodwork,
They have come to slur.
Hoping to stir up grudges...
And smear more sludge,
To antagonize those already angered.
On a campaign that remains negative.
To spew more swill,
From their burrowed crevices.
And they are given the attention sought.
To agonize those with an onslaught of their venom.
But they are the ones with their backs up against a wall.
Hoping a self praise,
Will erase their misdeeds...
From those too blind to see,
The sleaze from which they breed.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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If Using Profanity Was My Proclivity of Choice
Why do they look at you,
As if they are upset?
'They 'are' upset!
They said something I disliked.
And I responded not using one curse word.'
What did you say?
'All I said was...
If using profanity was my proclivity of choice,
I would not hesitate to use such procryptic measures.
But an insect to show my color,
I am not.'
Maybe they didn't know what you said,
And they were expecting for you to cuss them out.
And that is why they are upset.
Maybe they thought you were referring to them,
As roaches.
'Roaches?
No.
I have more respect for them.
They aren't the creatures getting on my nerves.'
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Loneliness
Have you seen
How loneliness
Gnaws at you
Like termites
In a wooden
Body…
You are
Not an
Old piece
Of furniture
That can be
Replaced -
With a body
New.
So,
Helplessly
Hopelessly
You let the
Termites…
Chew into you.
On second thoughts
Even if you had -
A body refreshed
And new, wouldn't
Those termites…
Still find you?
After all,
As long as
You live,
Loneliness
Lives with you.
It's only those
In between
Fillers of
*Joyous*
Excitement
That come
Visiting you,
But they soon
Bid you adieu.
Loneliness
Stays.
It's your
Lifelong
Enemy.
It whips you
Haunts you…
Threatens you
Bullies you.
You try
Scaring it away.
It never
Leaves you.
It thrives
Within you
Like a termites'
Colony and keeps
Eating into you…
poem by Aparna Chatterjee
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If I Were A Carpenter
If I were a carpenter and you were a lady
Would you marry me anyway?
Would you have my baby?
If I worked my hands in wood
I wonder would you still love me?
I say yes, I would, I'll put you above me
That's what I want you to say
And would you save my love from loneliness,
Would you save my love from sorrow, if you would
I give you my onlyness, girl and all of my tomorrows
If a tinker were my trade, would you still find me?
Carrying the pots and the pans that I made,
Walking along the highway
That long lonely highway
If I was a carpenter, and you were a lady
And I was just a carpenter,
Instead of a rock and roll star
Just a carpenter
A carpenter
A carpenter
song performed by by Bob Seger
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Survival Shake
This is no story its the key of existence
A little thing you better not forget
I dont know nothing bout its a water-resistance
Why dont you use your head
And survive, survive, survive
You got to survive
Survive, survive, survive
You got to survive
So tell me darling what you wanna be
A welcome idiot in an appletree
I shake you up and I shake you down
Down to the ground
To survive, survive, survive
You got to survive
Survive, survive
All you got to do is to survive
You just got one life
All you got to do is to survive
You just got one life
So better be careful boy
Survive, survive, survive...
song performed by by Fury In The Slaughterhouse
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Least You Expect It
it is at the time when you least expect it
that things happen in your life
that people come to you
for help.
bad luck, and events come bringing
you all the regrets.
mosquitoes and ants, and termites,
and snakes...
imagine, butterflies and birds and bees and flowers.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Our Survival
We shall survive distance.
We shall survive space.
But can we survive the loneliness
that we have to face?
We shall survive winter.
We shall survive spring.
But can we survive the guilt
of the wedding ring?
We shall survive long nights.
We shall survive days.
But can we survive the longings
that always and forever stays?
We shall survive suspicion.
We shall survive fear.
But can we survive living
without each other, dear?
We shall survive all of this
if we put our love first.
We shall survive hunger.
We shall survive thirst
only if this love is true.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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Of Ants and Life
…guess me correct
of ants and life they connect
causing a traffic jam on their trails I cannot forget
of ants as they swam from tree barks to get
a source of existence cannot let
the ants in drought to starve
for food is what they have once collected
and stored;
that which none has never rejected
nor objected
of ants and life
the futuristic species
that know when to pick up the pieces
of anything,
and the guard ants making sure nothing misses
from whence it were piled and stored
of ants and life ‘am never bored
as I observed how they nod
in respect and honor on board
as they pass each other a hustle they accord
of ants and life as they seek to conform
to a life in all its form
if ants can manage their own
why can’t we not of our own?
poem by Onalethuso Petruss Ntema
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Domestic Shades-21
Old House, Mango Trees, Carpenter Ants
What an odd life in an old house
With dimmed white-wash for years
All of hopeful ashes and holy fires,
By cracky, to end with blessed bows
But seemed not enough and healthy..
With its falling mortar scaly patchy
House was bending to touch me touchy
I was all in screams and unhealthy
Mango flowering too wasn't smelling
Though season was ready up for blooming
Three mango trees huge and hefty booming
Then in slow rest enough of dwelling
Some recommended more 'pooja' and 'homam'
For I was in grip of Saturn's momentum
Oh Shani, won't you rest me in peace's stratum'
'All till delicacies, accept from this home-mom'
So I pondered on as to what to do
House repairing earlier to go through
Garden repairing too through and through
So we all sat and discussed as to what to do
Then suddenly one reason found so radical
When I was stung by a black demon whimsical
And I shouted 'chee Shaniane' very allegorical
That my hubby mocked'ho worship is paradoxical'
Anyway, on hunting they swarmed from everywhere
Infesting to dig tunnels all there and there
Pinchable head and waist..they foraged, how dare
Ultimate battling, I picked up one and said 'beware'
That invasion on carpenter ants, hard too much
House maintenance is ever difficult very much
But never say'move on to a flat'that much
Jailed, will the oldies relish so much?
poem by Indira Renganathan
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(Bitter Poem) If My Poem Upset You, I'm Just So Sorry
If my poem upsets,
I'm just so sorry
No need to worry
Your not speaking anyways
And that's okay
If my poem upsets,
I'm just so sorry
Anger begets anger my friend
Deny it till the end
But were like snakes each with our own venom
If my poem upsets
I'm just so sorry
Here please hand me a tissue
So I can wipe the floor with you
You have no clue
If my poems upset
I'm just so sorry
I won't impersonate
I will speak my version of the truth
Let loose
If my poems upset
I'm just so sorry
But you don't have read, or concede
Just breath
Count to ten and it will be fine again
If my poems upset
I'm just sorry
But don't insult me with your self gratification
Your better then everyone else
To hell with you
If my poems upset
I'm just so sorry
But what is done, is done
You don't even know me
Yet you hand your opinions like candy.
If my poem upsets you
I'm just so sorry
But I didn't mention your name
You weren't dethroned or defamed
Point the finger and blame
By all means please do
If my poem upset you
I'm just sorry
But forgiveness is isn't mine to give
So its live and let live.
Deny me some of that beautiful constructive criticism
Still I won't miss it
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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The Manacled Man's Itinerary
Tiny Termites are born to destruct the timber
And rust will destroy the iron.
Precious gold is everlasting,
But the shine will bring thieves more closely.
Beauty is a gift,
And you have to protect from the evil.
Life is a road. [It’s not silky anyhow]
The roadway full of road works ahead.
If this polite man is roadworthy somehow?
Then he goes to a certain extent,
Perhaps the frustration of sinister
He stops for a while on the way
And there is no more hearsay of the traveller.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Power
power has built itself
permanently on citadels
you, an ant, cannot take
the place of
their monuments,
look for wood, conspire
with the friendship of the
termites,
the timid worms,
live on dungs, and
begin the song of sorrow
time listens
the storm comes,
tsunamis multiply,
earthquakes, and
floods,
you, the ant, takes only a leaf
to survive,
a grain of rice
will be too much,
a dew for survival,
soon the citadels of power
crushes to the ground
including the king and queen
and their servants,
they all rot,
and you, the ant,
and termites long hiding
on rotten wood,
and worms surviving
on the humus of dung
shall build
for a beginning,
a hill, a path,
a throne of dung.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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They Cannot Harm Anymore
mother was writing her lesson plan
and i was watching her
beside a lamp, that was then when
there was no electricity yet available in the barrio
the sound of the cicadas were loud and the
lizards keep eating the moth on the ceiling
i touched a wall eaten with termites and asked mother
if termites could do us harm or the wood
finally giving in to the hollowness of their skin
all substances she said have their terminals
wood surrender to the greed of termites
and termites build their own empires under the earth
so she said do not complain if this house
that we live in soon fall to the ground and be nothing
but flanks of rotten memories
the law of nature is there
we are all temporary
nothing lasts forever
those that eat and those that are eaten
are but part of their
paths to destiny.
fate cannot harm, they serve the law
and everything has a purpose unique on its own.
i look upon my blank sheet of paper
and then i begin to write again.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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These Are Our Neighbors
Offered are no alternatives.
But complaints are voiced and heard.
Suggestions they have none.
But they come with venom,
On their tongues.
Exposing the teeth of wolves...
Seeking tender meat,
To consume and run!
These are my neighbors.
These are your neighbors.
These are our neighbors...
Every one.
These are my neighbors.
These are your neighbors.
These are our neighbors...
Every one.
Knockingdownwhatcanbefoundtogetnothin gdone.
Takingoutofcontextwithawishfailurecomes!
And these are my neighbors.
These are your neighbors.
These are our neighbors...
Every one.
Yes these are my neighbors.
These are your neighbors.
And these are our neighbors...
Every one.
Pickinguptheirtelephonestogossipwithm orelies.
Hopingwhatissaidwillkeepthetruthindis guise.
To keep deceit and defeat on the rise!
And...
These are my neighbors.
These are your neighbors.
These are our neighbors...
Every one.
Yes...
These are my neighbors.
These are your neighbors.
These are our neighbors...
Every one.
Offered are no alternatives.
But complaints are voiced and heard.
Suggestions they have none.
But they come with venom,
On their tongues.
Exposing the teeth of wolves...
Seeking tender meat,
To consume and run!
Pickinguptheirtelephonestogossipwithmorel ies.
Hopingwhatissaidwillkeepthetruthindisguis e.
To keep deceit and defeat on the rise!
And these are my neighbors.
These are your neighbors.
These are our neighbors...
Every one.
Yes these are my neighbors.
These are your neighbors.
And these are our neighbors...
Every one.
These are my neighbors.
These are your neighbors.
These are our neighbors...
Every one.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Misfit Destructionists
Born to slaughter falsities,
Are those branded nonconformists.
Or other maverick labels given,
To have many perceive them to be...
Misfit destructionists,
Methodically tearing down...
Concepts thought sound and solid.
Although cracks gone ignored,
Viewed upon those foundations once adored...
Have become too valued to renovate,
For fear an updating will expose what is faked.
To reveal carpenter ants have eaten through,
What was believed to accept as being concrete.
Instead of plywood used.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Essence and Existence
Part readily the skin
and readily the pulp,
as readily the tongues
wild apples bore,
eviscerate the cores
and watermelon spit the pits
they cannot swallow.
Let this be done before
the tongues
wild lemons bore
find no cores.
poem by Donal Mahoney
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