They Rode My Back Like Hungry Fleas
The teachers I initially had,
Earlier in my developing life...
I despised.
Yes.
I thought them to be insensitive and mean.
And I held onto that belief,
With thoughts they were purposely picking on me.
And it took me years to realize their critiques,
Were from expectations they wanted me to reach.
They knew inside me I can and could do better.
They knew inside me an opportunity,
I did not then see.
But a pushing with their efforts increased my abilities.
The teachers I initially had,
Earlier in my developing life...
I despised.
Yes.
I thought them to be insensitive and mean.
And I held onto that belief,
With thoughts they were purposely picking on me.
Just to ride on my back like a pack of hungry fleas.
'Mister Pertillar?
I've read your essay...
'They Rode My Back Like A Pack Of Hungry Roaches'.
Change 'roaches' to 'fleas'.
Fleas are blood suckers.'
But...
My essay is about teachers I hate.
'I hate roaches too!
However...
If you accept my recommendation,
You will eventually come to realize...
The usage of 'fleas' will have a uniqueness.
And a far better bite.
I suggest...
'They Rode My Back Like Hungry Fleas''
There is no pleasing 'you' people,
Is it?
'Excuse me?
What did you say? '
They Rode My Back Like Hungry Fleas.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Big fleas have little fleas upon their backs to bite them, and little fleas have lesser fleas, and so ad infinitum.
Fleas
My thoughts are like fleas,
Eternally skipping.
I try as I please
To prevent their slipping,
To probe them for more meant
Than my wit can utter;
But out of the torment
They quiver and flutter,
Dance, sparkle, and vanish
With insolent ease.
To hold or to banish
My thoughts are like fleas.
poem by Gamaliel Bradford
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Our Pet's Pets
Suddenly our old cat's a spring chicken,
He's leaping about like a kitten,
It seems much more frequent,
The need for some treatment,
The fleas make him jump when he's bitten.
I'm a flea on the back of your cat,
And I'm not very happy with that,
I know I'm not blameless,
But don't make me homeless,
I don't earn enough for a flat.
Well I am the cat in the question,
Trying to make an impression,
There's no bed and breakfast,
For fleas that are downcast,
Regardless that there's a recession.
Fleas, lice
fleas, lice
the cat too
fleeing me
haiku by John Tiong Chunghoo
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I Hate Everyone (But You)
I hate everyone, but you.
What am I to do?
Everyone here has sold me out.
You're halfway across the continent.
Given time you'll screw me too.
I want to have you close.
To tell you so would be verbose.
I hate everyone else for their demonic countenance.
Pushing hard as if I'm a retard.
Their fakeness makes life so hard.
I hate everyone but you, and it won't get better soon.
Sometimes you're so cold and distant.
Inside though you're consistent.
I see what you have hidden.
Beauty like the garden of eden.
Just like me you hate these fleas.
Sucking off our lifes blood pity.
I hate everyone but you.
So what are we to do.
Given a chance we'll get past all the fools
who try to bring us down so cruel.
poem by Michael McParland
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Thoughts, like fleas, jump from man to man, but they don't bite everybody.
quote by Stanislaw Jerzy Lec
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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midsummer night
home alone with my dog
picking fleas
haiku by Chenou Liu
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Rondeau
Fleas, stink, pigs, mold,
The gist of the Bohemian soul,
Bread and salted fish and cold.
Leeks, and cabbage three days old,
Smoked meat, as hard and black as coal;
Fleas, stink, pigs, mold.
Twenty eating from one bowl,
A bitter drink -it's beer, I'm told-
Bad sleep on a straw in some filthy hole,
Fleas, stink, pigs, mold,
The gist of the Bohemian soul,
Bread and salted fish and cold.
poem by Eustache Deschamps
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Ode to Teachers
Ode to Teachers
Teachers are not just people whose job is to teach
Teachers are not just people who grade our papers or stand at the front of the classroom
Teachers are not just people who give us homework
No!
Teachers are part of our life
Never to be forgotten
Teachers are like steps that help us
Help us make it to the top
To be a greater person
To exceed expectations
They prepare us for great outside world
With its stone cold heart
Where if we trip and fall on our face
It will laugh at us
But because of our teachers
Our wonderful teachers
We remember to get back up
poem by Dreamin Big
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To A Love Poem You Twitch Your Face
This time,
As a critique of a love poem you
Read my lines and twitch your face
You cannot believe
What I write
that I for once was true
That I can now be true to you
For once I make this plea
Dust off the fleas
Of sin and prejudice
It is me, I once loved you,
And you knew
It was true but you never believed it,
it is me now, ready to love you again
My love,
Love changes everything
And that does not exclude me,
Do stamp your feet now
Crush all those fleas
And do not twitch your face,
hear me, strike me, i deserve
the punishment
having left you
long time ago
This is me
Ready to love you again, this is my plea.
please listen, spare, speak to me
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Picking Teachers For Their Leader
Strangers!
Come before the darkness of night,
Crawls.
As twilight escorts the rising moon!
Strangers...
Known in dreams.
Whisper of their presence unseen.
But felt...
By a familiar comfort embraced.
My steps cease to seek a quickened pace.
There is no wish for leaving.
I am told in my mind I should stay.
Soft voices dance within rainbowed light!
Sparkling to convince...
I should pray with faith.
And they would make my life right!
Picking teachers for their Leader.
For the One never shown.
The One who through scriptures...
Repeated to make appear,
But left still for them to go unknown.
Picking teachers for their Leader.
How they do it like it's done...
When they come,
Nobody knows.
Their picking teachers for their Leader.
They say He's number One.
Like none other like He,
Upon me with gifts bestowed!
Strangers!
Come before the darkness of night,
Crawls.
As twilight escorts the rising moon!
Strangers...
Known in dreams.
Whisper of their presence unseen.
But felt...
By a familiar comfort embraced.
Their picking teachers for their Leader.
As God demands.
Their picking teachers for their Leader.
As God Commands.
Their picking teachers for their Leader.
And I understand...
Something that I give,
Must be done with giving hands.
And instantly I'm comprehending...
My relationship with my fellowman.
Their picking teachers for their Leader.
Picking teachers for their Leader.
Their picking teachers for their Leader.
Picking teachers for their Leader
Picking teachers for their Leader.
Picking teachers for their Leader!
Strangers!
Come before the darkness of night,
Crawls.
As twilight escorts the rising moon!
Strangers...
Known in dreams.
Whisper of their presence unseen.
But felt...
By a familiar comfort embraced.
Their picking teachers for their Leader.
Picking teachers for their Leader.
Their picking teachers for their Leader.
Picking teachers for their Leader
Picking teachers for their Leader.
Picking teachers for their Leader!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Nowhere To Hide
You might not understand the way I write because I write for me
This is my selfish exploit, my medicine, for the acid-
This is how I choose to drown my sorrows, I hid them, quid
In a sea of deeper sorrow, that goes deeper still... can't you see
Sorrow for sorrow, can't you see, this my strategy
To chasten the pain with an ever greater pain
To drive out the darkness by further causing all light to wain
To float in a sea of all I truly am
For surely this, this really is me, All I am, All I can
Muster is my fake face, but the monster
Dripping in darkness and blood, he lurks just under that mask
I know him, he is not gone, and he is hungry
Hungry, hungry, hungry, always inside
Hungry, hungry, hungry, left with nowhere to hide
Hungry, hungry, hungry, waiting to devour
This very hour I realize I've always been running
But I get nowhere, because I am already nowhere
And nowhere is certainly no place to hide.
poem by David Knox
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Sketchy Ideas Of A Would-be Dead Philosopher
it is like a picture
of me
smooth, colored and edited
but it becomes too unlike me
deep inside
i am chalk and charcoal
with some fuzzy fleas
crawling inside the locks of my hair
searching for answers
it is like converting something so obvious
into something too hazy
because it becomes more real
something felt
away from something only thought of
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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With a Beat and Lots of Rhythm
They will not support themselves,
Or the local performing artists...
With words of encouragement,
That nourishes with motivation.
But they will pay thousands of dollars,
To import the entertainment done,
By those picking fleas off mules...
While taped gospel music plays,
In the background!
With a beat and lots of rhythm!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Being Insensitive
You said to me 'if' I rode my bicycle,
I may or MAY NOT get a flat tire.
Well...
Mister President,
I 'did' get that flat.
And I'd like to know...
What you intend to do about it?
'I understand the gravity of your concern.
I can either take the bicycle back.
Which this administration purchased,
At no cost to you at all.
Or...
You can fix the flat tire yourself,
Creating a minor inconvenience.
To get back and forth from A to B.
Opposed to hitchhiking,
Or taking your time to walk.
Getting both exercise...
And obtaining a more healthier outlook on life.'
But Mister President,
Don't you think your response is a bit insensitive?
'Perhaps you are right.
I should have been more direct,
And called you an imbecile for your attempts...
To accuse and blame me for your recklessness.
Sit down fool.
Now...
That's being insensitive!
Next comment or question? '
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Mad
mUTUAL
ADMIRATION
CLUB
meeting at 12
midnight
i love poetry.
is it poetry?
really?
scratch my back.
my hands are too short
to reach the fleas.
my feet are too long
to kiss my ass.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Complete Destruction
It was an icy day.
We buried the cat,
then took her box
and set fire to it
in the back yard.
Those fleas that escaped
earth and fire
died by the cold.
poem by William Carlos Williams
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Who Are My Foes?
I keep my battle cries.
But who are my foes?
With fears I can't release.
But who are my foes?
I feel much threatened too.
But who are my foes?
And when I close my windows,
I bolt and lock all doors.
I frisk my shadows cast.
But who are my foes?
I analyze all night.
But who are my foes?
Even my pet cat believes,
A spy on it has planted fleas.
I get that look from it,
And...
Brush until it's feeling freed.
I shower keeping glasses on.
To catch all my foes.
And drip to dry when done.
I don't use towels.
And when I make a mess and ready,
To take out the trash...
I take my cat with me,
And we both wear masks.
I frisk my shadows cast.
But who are my foes?
I analyze all night.
But who are my foes?
Even my pet cat believes,
A spy on it has planted fleas.
I get that look from it,
And...
Brush until it's freed.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Hungry Heart
Got a wife and kids in baltimore jack
I went out for a ride and I never went back
Like a river that dont know where its flowing
I took a wrong turn and I just kept going
Everybodys got a hungry heart
Everybodys got a hungry heart
Lay down your money and you play your part
Everybodys got a hungry heart
I met her in a kingstown bar
We fell in love I knew it had to end
We took what we had and we ripped it apart
Now here I am down in kingstone again
Everybodys got a hungry heart...
Everybody needs a place to rest
Everybody wants to have a home
Dont make no difference what nobody says
Aint nobody like to be alone
Everybodys got a hungry heart...
song performed by by Bruce Springsteen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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