Related quotes: No one has ever spoken...

His Fear

No one has ever spoken of it,
But there is a way,
He will never hit,
And will start to fade away.

Snakes, rats, cats, stakes,
They will never scare,
But with spoons, brooms, and lakes,
That He, beware.

Everyone grab some silverware,
And get those sweepers and dock,
For we're traveling to His lair,
At five around the clock.

Don't think we won't,
Because we surely will,
He's just a don't,
We'll plumber Him down the hill.

Let's go great people,
We're going to go take over,
From the bottom to the steeple,
When we find Him,
Plow Him Over! ! !

poem by Mystykka Mysterious
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes

The Hill

Who are those people
living at the top of the hill?
I don't know them.
I guess I never will.

Who are the people
that I see
living at the bottom of the hill
just like me?

We are the complainers
and we find it odd
that the ones at the top of the hill
think they're God.

We need to stop complainin'
and climb up the hill
and shout out loud
'We've had our fill.'

You're not Gods.
You never have been,
These hills where you're livin'
are filled with sin.

You've sinned against humanity
at the bottom of the hill.
And all that you'; ve done
is against God's will.

You're the imposters
with crowns on your head.
You are the laughables
that have been misled.

We, at the bottom of the hill
always will survive.
We'll do what we've always done
to keep our hopes alive.
We will pray.

poem by Edwina Reizer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Fengshui of the Face

there are two magic
lakes to hold people dear
so that they soak up
the warmth of your hearts

this is fengshui of
the windows of your soul

look straight into
the lakes of theirs too
- with respect and honour -
and they will reflect to you
how much they hold you dear

fengshui of the wind
it comes from the cave
that transmits the voice of
your passions

in it are treasures
you can share with the world,
your words, your poems,
your knowledge
all carried in the winds
to the ones you love

the hill is where where you can
gather the scents of the
ins and outs of the world

let all the goodwill of the
world reverberate over the lakes
amplify in the cave so that it
echoes throughout the hill

show your love for all
with a great smile

it will light up the lake
fill the cave with songs
and the hill rolling with flowers

smile, smile for the world
show your love for the world
and it will surely love you back

poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Where Do We Go From Here

Where do we go from here.
Where do we go from here,
Where do we go from here.
If we sweep the bottom of the rivers
We find bodies that shouldnt be there.
If we sweep the courts and offices
We find heads that shouldnt be there.
Dingdong hell, pussy in the well,
Cats on the hill, ready to kill.
Where do we go from here?
Where do we go from here? where do we go from here?
Where do we go from here?
If we sweep the shelters and asylums,
Well find women that shouldnt be there.
If we sweep the dark streets and alleys,
Well find dealers that shouldnt be there.
Dingdong hell, pussy in the well,
Cats on the hill, ready to kill.
Why do we miss you so if youre just a speck of dust?
Are we getting tired of blood and horror?
Are we getting ready for God and terror?
Are we getting tired of blood and horror?
Are we getting ready for God and terror?
Are we getting tired of blood and horror? (where do we go from here? )
Are we getting ready for God and terror? (where do we go from here? )
Dingdong hell, pussy in the well,
Cats on the hill, ready to kill.
Dingdong hell, pussy in the well,
Cats on the hill, ready to kill.
Dingdong hell, pussy in the well,
Cats on the hill, ready to kill.
Ready to, ready to, ready to, ready to, ready to, ready to,
Where do we go from here?

song performed by by Yoko Ono
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Where Do We Go From Here (Tricky Remix)

song performed by by Yoko Ono
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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God is not Alone

God is not alone
Loneliness is not his attribute
Perhaps
Solitude until he created man & woman
cats and dogs, snakes and rats,
fire and water.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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She sweeps with many-colored brooms,

She sweeps with many-colored brooms,
And leaves the shreds behind;
Oh, housewife in the evening west,
Come back, and dust the pond!

You dropped a purple ravelling in,
You dropped an amber thread;
And now you've littered all the East
With duds of emerald!

And still she plies her spotted brooms,
And still the aprons fly,
Till brooms fade softly into stars --
And then I come away.

poem by Emily Dickinson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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You Set This Mood For Me To Scare You

It's demonical.
It's demonical.

Slow breaths heard and creaking on the steps.
It's demonical.
Closing doors and cats sniffing for rats.
It's demonical.
Breezing winds through trees on windows tap.
It's demonical.
And all alone you feel unsafe and trapped.
It's demonical.

As ghosts boo,
A devil pursues.
'Darkness looms upon the land.'
As ghosts boo.
'Shadows from the corners start to stand.'
As ghosts boo.
'Bats begin to fly and then you scream.
As ghosts boo.
'And an evil devil starts to sing...
You Set This Mood For Me To Scare You'

It's demonical.
It's demonical.
It's demonical.
'But...
You Set This Mood For Me To Scare You'

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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People don't like to feed live mice and rats to their snakes. Now we have a regular meat food that they will eat. Ninety percent of the snakes will eat this food and love it.

quote by Dick Van Patten
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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So Far Gone

How its done.
Always on the run.
Just another number.
Statistics.
Becoming a mystic.
Watch the hands closely.
Its a disappearing trick.
Shes there, shes gone.

How its done.
Always on the run.
Just another picture.
Memories.
The burning disease.
Watch the horror movies.
Its more flashbacks.
Its there, its gone.

How its done.
Always on the run.
Just another measure.
Despair.
So f*cking scared.
Watch the fire ignite.
Its a candle light vigil.
Were there were gone.
So far gone, so far gone.
Its another place.
Distant.
Separation of the body and mined.
Traveling through outer space.
Grab the twilight.
Hold on to it.
Make it yours.
For it hasn't been there before.
So far gone, so far gone.
Its another place.
Distant.
Separation of the body and mined.
Traveling through outer space.
Grab the twilight.
Hold on to it.
Make it yours.
For it hasn't been there before.

How its done.
Always on the run.
Just another treasure.
Desire.
What you want.
Watch it fade away.
Its more fools gold.
Its there, its gone.
Always on the run.
Just another label.
Faking.
What are you.
Watch the dirt fly.
Its sticks and stones.
Your there, your gone.

How its done.
Always on the run.
Just another vagrant.
Living.
A need to survive.
Watch her eyes now.
Its another color again.
Shes there, shes gone.
So far gone, so far gone.
Its another place.
Distant.
Separation of the body and mined.
Traveling through outer space.
Grab the twilight.
Hold on to it.
Make it yours.
For it hasn't been there before.
Once more.
So far gone, so far gone.
Its another place.
Distant.
Separation of the body and mined.
Traveling through outer space.
Grab the twilight.
Hold on to it.
Make it yours.
For it hasn't been there before.
How its done.

poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Rats Of Bikaner

Rats of black and grey
Were scurrying across
the floors of Karni Matha Temple.
Rats are not a scourge there
and people scatter minute eatables.
Munching the grains strewn around,
the fearless rats scamper about
the inner sanctorum of the Goddess.
Where had scuttled off that white rat?
People searched to ferret it out,
but it eludes watch or catch.
The sight of it would bring luck and wealth!
But I saw one in white marble
lying before the idol of Matha.
A strange sanctuary for rats
in that semi-desert land!
Even the dead ones are not given
a quick decent burial with rites.
The Rajputs don’t celebrate the wedding of rats
as we do for asses for abundant rains.
Cats scenting rats don’t enter
and I am sure there is no rat- fever.
People are given preferential visas
as they eat meat, chicken, beaf and fork
and alas, the flesh of rats ignored!

News hadn’t reached Ghazni Mohammed
or else he would have marched to Bikaner
to rob the white rat instead of raiding
again and again that Somnathpur
passing through the desert and marsh.

poem by Rajendran Muthiah
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Lose The Respect And Reputation?

Entering into somebody's house,
Scare while one goes into,
Scare while one returns from,
Scare while one is enjoying the desire,
Scare while one is trying to hide his activities from others;

While there is fear and scare forever,
why one does not consider the risk
of entering into somebody's house,
of desirous to have contact with somebody's wife
and lose the respect and reputation? (naalatiyaar 83)

There is always fear of
Sexually Transmitted Disease,
Acquired Immuno Deficiency Syndrome,
Beware of your activity!

poem by V.K. Kanniappan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Pogey Plant Wars

vines, open sideways windows.the night is full of air, fresh and breathable from the salt marsh.the pogey plant was full of illcit dreams when they built it, people wanna fish and people wanna know whats out there.the first round of cats died.the easy eyed kids thought the world did it.nah, thought there dad, it was a snake, big ole rat snake from out in the woods.but the old timer knew what it was.it was an efficient killer.the man spoke, drew blood in his breathe and spit, 'it was them damndable rats, ones big as bobcats.or more thought the kids who thought he was joking.this was it for the cat population, who had had enough of the rats out there.this time, there would be cat victory.cats as loud as a ram truck on high engine rev bought in, and took a look at going out there.'its true, apparently', one cat must have said to the others.so the bull rat and the big cat went at it, and the ruse in the system would provide only shadows for patrons to watch.one cat would win, one rat would win.all this played out here in tiny fernandina beach.either the rats or the cats would be laying around in the window seals tomorrow, only a champ of a kid would know.i wonder if they will pass the information.

poem by Chris Bowen
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Hickory dickory dock,
the mouse ran up the clock;
the clock struck one
and down he run;
hickory dickory dock.

by Mother Goose from Tom Thumb's Pretty Songbook (1744)
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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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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Here! Here...You Take The Cheese

Mice like rats and slick napping cats,
Only appear to do as they please...
When it is believed the coast is clear,
To re-energize their determined activities.

Only when they are unmistakably trapped,
Do mice and rats feel the penetrating claws...
Of those one eye opening awakening cats,
With a squealing of their innocence.

'Here! Here...
You take the cheese.
I'm on a diet anyway.
I was only in your neighborhood,
Seeking a way to cement new friendships.'

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Spoonful

By willie dixon
Could fill spoons full of diamonds,
Could fill spoons full of gold.
Just a little spoon of your precious love
Will satisfy my soul.
Men lies about it.
Some of them cries about it.
Some of them dies about it.
Everythings a-fightin about the spoonful.
That spoon, that spoon, that spoonful.
That spoon, that spoon, that spoonful.
That spoon, that spoon, that spoonful.
That spoon, that spoon, that spoonful.
Could fill spoons full of coffee,
Could fill spoons full of tea.
Just a little spoon of your precious love;
Is that enough for me?
Chorus
Could fill spoons full of water,
Save them from the desert sands.
But a little spoon of your forty-five
Saved you from another man.
Chorus
Cats squirrel (traditional)
(instrumental)

song performed by by Cream
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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True Friends? ? ?

the snake slithers around
sneaky not to make a sound
slowly creeps upon his prey
attacks then runs away

beware of him he bites
and does it within his rights
he might be pretty to look at
but truly he's ugly lot

the snake will smother
even kill his own mother

snakes are full of greed
upon your soul he will feed
the snake is a self-adoring creature
humility is not a feature

snakes are everywhere
so beware.......

poem by Ultimate Cyan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Over the Hill

What is over the hill,
I've always wondered and I wonder still.

Are there fields of meadows sweet,
Or forests for the eye to greet,
Are there cottages and farms,
All so quaint with country charms.

Or are there seas and sandy coves,
Lofty cliffs and sheep in droves,
Lakes with water gleaming bright,
Willows weeping at the sight.

Could there be a river wide,
With boats all moored along each side,
Or a canal which peacefully meanders,
Past boathouses with their verandas.

Perhaps there is a town of people,
A large stone church with bell and steeple,
Lots of traffic on the go,
People rushing to and fro.

Maybe there are valleys to discover,
With wonderful birds like the wagtail and plover,
Sparrowhawks and buzzards too,
All these would be splendid to view.

There might be a mansion great,
Built within a large estate,
With room to fish and hunt and shoot,
Such a lifestyle would be a hoot.

But it may not be greener over the hill,
We always think maybe it will,
We are left to guess at what things might have been,
And all we can do is imagine the scene.

But perhaps we are happier where we are,
And not to let all our wild thoughts mar,
What we already have, which is pretty okay,
I think you'd agree, what do you say?

poem by Ernestine Northover
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Rats

I was lost just wandering round downtown
Many people pushing me around
Hate spreads just like infection
Those rats jumping on and off my back
Fat black rats holding me down
I see rats in every direction
No time to catch your breath
Crazy people lost their heads
Masses trampling on my feet, inconsiderate in their heat
Those rats breeding angriness and spite
Never have done anything right for people like you and me
Walk over all the people you cant see
If they die theres more bread for me
Like snakes crawling through the grass
No time to catch your breath
Crazy people lost their heads
Masses trampling on my feet, inconsiderate in their heat
Those rats breeding angriness and spite
Never have done anything right for people like you and me
See that face man look at me, hes much too selfish to see
Once he was warm and was kind
Now all he has got is a pinstripe mind
See that face man look at me, hes much too selfish to see
Once he was warm and was kind
Now all he has got is a pinstripe mind

song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Ramparts of the Rodents

In a public hospital in Chennai city,
the rats, cats and dogs had a free run
to ICU and the Operation Theatre
with no one to one chase among them
and remained rampant
eating the breads and biscuits
and biting the patients now and then.

The rodents dared bustle
to mushroom and built an empire there
with burrows here and there to hide
and nibbled the kids with uncalled dates.
The dead bodies kept in the mortuary
had their cheeks and feet damaged.
The scientific minds of the people
sensed that some ghouls had bitten them.

The government has flexed its muscles
to hustle the rodent control teams,
to lure the rats for guzzling
the pesticides injected tomatoes.
In a Government Hospital no officer
would spend from the paltry fund
to nip the menace in the bud.
The Sanitary and the Health officers
have no time to visit these hospitals
If they go out and scare the roadside-stalls,
with stringent laws to punish
for the poor upkeep, they receive bonus
for the Diwali, Ramzan and the Christmas.

The people in our country
squat, eat, urinate and sleep
and make the premises unhygienic
with leftovers of all kinds.
The people are indigenous
still crawling to get clean habits.
But the rats are from the ramparts
of the rat temple off Bikaner
where the people throng to see
the luck-bringing white rat.