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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Related quotes
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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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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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

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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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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

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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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Desert Rats
Desert rats
Take cover in the heat,
They know what to toss
And what to keep -
They skillfully hide under big sombreros
And down lots of water,
They've learned well when to sit, and when to quit,
When to stay, and when to scatter -
The desert calls them
Right to the edge of existence;
But, too wise are they, any foolish games to play,
For in the desert they have found the art of survival is patience -
Listen close my friends for the divine desert to call you...
By all means, come and see,
But, with eyes wide open tread slowly
Following the tracks of wise old desert rats...
Just like me.
(this is for my pal Juan O. A fellow 'desert rat'!)
poem by Smoky Hoss

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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

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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.
poem by Rajendran Muthiah

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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

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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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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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The Year Of The Rat
A Chinese friend informed me that
This is the astrological year of the rat
Though an animal lover I’ve always been
A year full of rats will cause me chagrin
A pup or a kitten would be more to my taste
Their barks and their mews I’d more easily face
With our two legged rats we seem to prefer
We’ve vermin enough, I think you’ll concur
If we skip over this rat laden calendar year
I don’t believe it would cause too many a tear
But tearful or not, I think we should heed it
That a year full of rats is really not needed
poem by Stanley Cooper

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Nothing is good or bad.
I rescued a cat.
Is it a noble act?
Some more rats would die.
I killed a cat.
Is it a cruel act?
It spares many rats?
No act is absolutely good or bad.
18.12.2005
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar

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Pulling Habits Out of Rats
I’m no genie or Houdini,
I’m The Famous Rob Kabob.
Hocus-pocus I must focus,
I must think to do my job.
First I get in this position,
While the rat sits very still.
I’m part Shrink and part Magician,
And it takes a secret skill.
People ask, 'Rob what’s your job? '
But they figure I am joking,
When I tell them I help rats
To stop drinking and stop smoking.
Some rats are such nail-biters,
Still others tend to overeat.
I wave my magic wand 3 times,
And PRESTO my work is complete.
I no longer miss my old job,
Pulling RABBITS out of HATS.
I’m The Famous Rob Kabob,
I pull HABITS out of RATS!
poem by ToddMichael St. Pierre

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SQUATTERS (Slum-Dwellers)
We cleaned the Dorm this morning
and found the dead rat
The Matron said it stank
and must be thrown out.
I suggested a good grave
but she said,
"Throw it into the garbage."
I pity the innocent rat
helpless at the dreadful
claws of the cat.
So we argued.
She said, "Rats are dreadful!
and cats are the protectors! "
She complained about her loss
Mentioned about the her torn,
Tattered rags and cartoons.
She said, "Rats must be exterminated
That the City of man gets rid
Of the ugly and grotesque! "
But I said,
"They need their right home
and if dead, they need
the right grave."
I see no longer the native rats
because of the wild cats
No more torn, tattered rags,
papers and cartoons.
And the wild cats rejoice
over the order and new wonders
for which the Matron -
the recipient of congratulations.
"Rats must not contaminate
the City of Man, "
the Matron said.
And she added,
"They are eyesores
They smell and stink
so throw them
into the garbage."
__________________
poem by Elizabeth Padillo Olesen

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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

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Chanson de fou (3)
Brisez-leur pattes et vertèbres,
Chassez les rats, les rats.
Et puis versez du froment noir,
Le soir,
Dans les ténèbres.
Jadis, lorsque mon coeur cassa,
Une femme le ramassa
Pour le donner aux rats.
- Brisez-leur pattes et vertèbres.
Souvent je les ai vus dans l'âtre,
Taches d'encre parmi le plâtre,
Qui grignotaient ma mort.
- Brisez-leur pattes et vertèbres.
L'un d'eux, je l'ai senti
Grimper sur moi la nuit,
Et mordre encor le fond du trou
Que fit, dans ma poitrine,
L'arrachement de mon coeur fou.
- Brisez-leur pattes et vertèbres.
Ma tête à moi les vents y passent,
Les vents qui passent sous la porte,
Et les rats noirs de haut en bas
Peuplent ma tête morte.
- Brisez-leur pattes et vertèbres.
Car personne ne sait plus rien.
Et qu'importent le mal, le bien,
Les rats, les rats sont là, par tas,
Dites, verserez-vous, ce soir,
Le froment noir,
A pleines mains, dans les ténèbres ?
poem by Emile Verhaeren

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