Pre-menopausal Drama
when you leave
your panty on the
white tiles of the
bathroom
and a cockroach
comes along
and sniffs it
i, your husband,
shall pick it up
and wash it well,
i think, i must be
the one to understand
you more
in this period of
your shaky existence
when all the
love is
gone.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Related quotes
I Am Shaky Today
I AM SHAKY TODAY
I am shaky today-
Why I am not sure
But after all I have been through
And after all I have done
And all I have learned
And all the many times I have gotten through shakiness in the past
I am shaky today
As if all my life and its lessons have been for nothing
And I cannot control a simple mood-
I am shaky today
Like the earth might open up and swallow me forever -
I am shaky –Shaky-
After all these years
I have learned nothing-
I am so so ashamed-
Shaky still now while writing this poem.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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THE Metamorphosis of F. Kafka
one day
he finds himself converted into
a giant cockroach
he does not know about it at first
until he wakes up
and looks at himself in the mirror
he changes his taste for food
now attracted to left overs
dislikes water and
light
dislikes people and
events
and cannot relate to the morning
news on TV
his door has now remained closed
and no one is allowed to enter
except his dear sister
who feeds him
morsels
in time he begins to understand
how is it to be a cockroach
how humans have been too cruel
to their state
and then
he writes about Kafka and
The Metamorphosis
that is the real story
until the cockroach dies
until Kafka recovers again
away from
Ward 10.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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En Route
Today, the 8.10 local from Badlapur
Solved the mystery of the unwhistling pressure cooker
Where in the knit there were two purls
And three dropped stitches.
Why the maid ran away with the watchman
And how the boss said ‘good morning'
To the giggly bank clerk.
Missing the 8.10 is like missing your period.
Honeymoons are a bunch of photographs
With the husband's arm around the wife's shoulder
And nostalgia for other women.
Honeymoons are Ooty, Kashmir and Kodaikanal
Where the idea of a stranger making love to you
Is something to get used to because he is the husband.
Today the 8.10 had a panty seller
Who sold pink panties for Rs.30 a pair
And screamed that pink was a colour
Husbands liked as a rule but never said so.
Today the 8.10 had women with
Thinly threaded eyebrows
Unwashed hair
Purple lipsticks
Garlic breaths
Bushy underarms
And the kind of confidence
A Germaine Greer or a Gloria Steinem talks about.
poem by Shalini Rao
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A Husband...
A husband should be
Loyal and honest
A husband should be
Strong and protective
A husband should be
Loving and romantic
A husband should be
Patient and understanding
A husband should know
When enough is enough
A husband should know
When to fight and when to cry
A husband should know
all your goals and dreams
A husband should know
your strengths and well as your weaknesses
A husband needs to be a true man
A husband needs to love you unconditionally
A husband needs to know your heart is forever his
poem by Sarah Holmes
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This Heart Of Mine
If you see my heart laying on the ground
Would you pick it up, and then put it down?
Or would you hold it softly like a butterfly
In your hand, and would you caress
it gently and say you understand.
Would you feel the beat that gently pounds away
Or would you just leave it for someone else
Who may come this way.
Would you look at the heart to see if it's
Been damaged or hurt
Or would you love it and give it a brand new birth.
It may only be a heart, but it's the blood
That flows thru its veins and gives it life.
And this may be the heart of your
Husband or your wife.
Pick up my heart and hold it to the light
For GOD had given me this
As the ultimate sacrifice.
He gave it to us all, just so that
We could see - that he is always
There protecting this part of you and me.
My heart is not just to give life
But to show life, and all of its beauties
That it can create
So treat it gently before it's much too late.
poem by Louis Rams
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Our Life
Our life appears akin the floor
Of mosaic tiles, spotted, three hues;
Each tile denotes a month that passed;
The spots refer to good and bad!
Umpteen are grey spots – venial sins,
By habit done, incessantly;
The fewer black spots – mortal sins,
Against the Ten Commands of God!
The spots of white were good deeds done;
Some tiles had few, some had galore;
The size of dots too varied much;
Such tiles were scarcely found and rare!
We yearn to see the floor all tiled,
With spots of white, all huge and bright;
Yet, earthly life is what we make
By labour, done in heaven’s light!
(24-07-11)
poem by John Celes
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Pick This to Leave
A product solicited and much too erotic,
With a marketing done to the very young.
In articles that blatantly state:
'Scope Upon Your Pleasures.
And Keep Fixed In Positions to Satiate.'
Promoting promiscuity.
And the irresponsibility,
Of random breeding.
What else could this be?
But a fostering of humanity,
Depleting in self defeat.
Nope. Nope. Nope. Nope.
Don't need it.
Don't welcome it to feed it.
Nope. Nope. Nope. Nope.
New addictions may appease.
But pick this from your head to leave.
Don't let this sit.
Pick this to leave.
Or become addicted.
Make this leave.
Don't be submissive.
Make this leave.
Don't think of this as a benefit.
Nope. Nope. Nope. Nope.
Don't let this sit.
Pick this to leave.
Or become addicted.
Make this leave.
Don't be submissive.
Make this leave.
Don't think of this as a benefit.
A product solicited and much too erotic,
With a marketing done to the very young.
Someone, something has to stop it.
Nope. Nope. Nope. Nope.
Don't let this sit.
Pick this to leave.
Don't give this even a chance to breathe.
Nope. Nope. Nope. Nope.
Don't let this sit.
Pick this to leave.
Don't give this even a chance to breathe.
Nope. Nope. Nope. Nope.
Don't give this even a chance to breathe.
Don't let this sit pick this to leave.
Nope. Nope. Nope. Nope.
Don't let this sit pick this to leave.
Don't give this even a chance to breathe.
Nope. Nope...
Pick this to leave.
Nope. Nope. Nope.
Pick this to leave.
Nope. Nope...
Pick this to leave.
Don't give this even a chance to breathe.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Gromphadorhina Portentosa
Gromphadorhina portentosa
is a cockroach hard to miss,
evil, as in Nostra Cosa,
you can tell one by its hiss.
Many evil people are
friendly when you first approach,
but a wise man will stay far
from them like this hissing roach.
If you’re forced to shake their hand
afterwards you have to wash,
but don’t let them understand
that you really want to squash
them like these roaches. It’s forbidden
by both State and Federal law:
best to keep your feelings hidden—
hurt no feelings, and withdraw.
poem by Gershon Hepner
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The Alien is gross, scary. There is something in a human being that looks at them and sees it as a cockroach. You can never feel nurturing towards the cockroach.
quote by Sanaa Lathan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Both the cockroach and the bird could get along very well without us, although the cockroach would miss us most.
quote by Joseph Wood Krutch
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Both the cockroach and the bird would get along very well without us, although the cockroach would miss us most.
quote by Joseph Wood Krutch
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Roaring Twenties were the period of that Great American Prosperity which was built on shaky foundations.
quote by Paul Getty
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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La cucaracha for lady Phoenix Rain
.
I have a cockroach for a friend.
I may just start a whole new trend
But when you're pent in the death cell
it makes it difficult to tell.
My friendly cockroach visits me.
He's not afraid to let me see
he wants the leavings on my plate
Though he’s polite prepared to wait.
I have no other friends who care
my leavings I will gladly share.
And when they strap me in the Chair.
I know my cockroach will be there
He will be waiting faithfully
to have his last free meal on me.
8-Jul-08
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Sexy Woman
white clouds
blue sea
green long island
on the shallow waters
a woman faces me
white bra
white panty
(two piece)
at the middle
the water touches
the center of her
being
the grass of her earth
is wet
she walks away
dripping
her hair is long and curly
black
she does not own me.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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My Husband
my husband,
my husband is the poignant King,
A soildier,
A guardian,
Never mixture of lies and truth,
He is never despising,
Ever loving, ever thinking,
He's gone to prepare a place for me,
A dwelling Sanctuary,
My husband,
Wash every organ in my function,
Hail your name,
The ignoble aliens,
These unfeigned verses,
Really proved you are the good Samaritan,
Not the Priest,
Neither the Mob or the Church,
My Husband the poetical Skills,
With you I kiss vicissitudes,
I think,
Salvation is a long way pattern,
A pattern of integrity and love,
Use these verses,
Official that washeth the Earthly burdens,
poem by Maxim Muyu
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A Cockroach
a cockroach flies above my head
and lands
near my feet
my instinct kills it outright
with a sudden stamp and there
the cockroach lies
smashed and dead
i smell stink
and never felt any regret.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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for Miguel
when you left
there was this delusion of white mustache
this baldness that is too consuming
for those who want
to be always young
i was then a little boy
crying on a velvet blue sofa
i was aware of what was said
from grandpa's mouth in fact
there were scribbles in my heart
like some claws of birds
you do not have to come back
to point me the way you passed
i am still aware about those pains
having loved solitude
there was this party in the house
when i was sixteen and there were hands
slapping your face and i too bleed a lot
having known you much better
on your deathbed
i am still aware of the things to come
i know the secret passage
and along the way i pick you some white flowers
it is bouquet of flowers that i must offer to you
because you understand my pains too
this is our world of pains
we exit soon only to be parted again
and we say we understand the flight of the fireflies
how their lights are drowned by the rain
how the leaves finally find solace
in the silence of utter darkness when we finally find
the truth of this existence
the life after
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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About Love
Do you want to understand something about love? !
Then go to the sea and sit down alone;
Do you want to understand something about love? !
Then go to the mountain and take a walk alone;
Do you want ot understand something about love? !
Then go to the forest and walk through it alone;
There and then, the visions of love will touch your heart!
And you will keep your virginity and pass it on to your husband-to-be.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Fantasy Man
I don't drink tea
Or white chablis
I sit around and watch TV
Don't send flowers
Or take showers
But I'll be there to pull your weeds
Oh,yeah
I dont read books
I dont french cook
Or stroll around in galleries
I hate opera
I hate Operah
Don't fill my head with poetry
You just want to squeeze my masculinity
Why can't you leave it alone?
Hey,hey I ain't gonna' change
Hey,hey don't you love me this way
Hey,hey I am what I am
So please understand
I'm not your fantasy man
I don't do dishes
And I'm suspricious
Of any grown up man does
I'm homophobie
Don't do aerobics
Just lay around and catch a buzz
You just want to squeeze my masculinity
Why can't you leave it alone?
Hey,hey I ain't gonna' change
Hey,hey don't you love me this way
Hey,hey I am what I am
So please understand
I'm not your fantasy man
Say hey,hey,hey,hey
You just want to squeeze my masculinity
Why can't you leave it alone?
Hey,hey I ain't gonna' change
Hey,hey don't you love me this way
Hey,hey I am what I am
So please understand
I'm not your fantasy man
song performed by by Alice Cooper
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Throw Yourself Away
Baby's born on the bathroom floor
her mother prays that it'll never cry
but nothing's wrong you got your prom dress on
When they ask you'llsay it isn't mine
Oooh, you know they're gonna know you lied
Why the hell don't you throw yourself away
You know they're gonna burn it down
Wash my, hands of this
You notice that God ain't even helping you out
Wash my, hands of this
You notice that God aint even helping you
Why the hell don't you throw yourself away
You know they're gonna burn it down
So keep the way you feel anonymous
And hide it all until the day you die
your secret's safe at least you thought it was
But you can only keep it for a little while
Oooh, and now you're terrified
Why the hell don't you throw yourself away
You know they're gonna burn it down
Wash my, hands of this
You notice that God ain't even helping you out
Wash my, hands of this
You notice that God aint even helping you
Why the hell don't you throw yourself away
You know they're gonna burn it down
Baby's born on the bathroom floor
Her Mother prays that it'll never cry
but nothing's wrong you got your prom dress on
And when they ask you say it isn't mine
And damn you for thinkin' we would never know
And damn you for thinkin' we would never mind
theOnly reason that you'd made it this far
You never asked him but you never try
Why the hell don't you throw yourself away
Why the hell don't you throw yourself away
You know they're gonna burn it down
Wash my, hands of this
You notice that God aint even helping you out
Wash my, hands of this
You notice that God aint even helping you out
Wash my, hands of this
You notice that God aint even helping you out
Wash my, hands of this
You notice that God aint even helping you
Why the hell don't you throw yourself away
You know they're gonna burn it down
song performed by by Nickelback
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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