There Is Something Inside My Mouth
there is something inside
my mouth
coming from my heart
moving out through
my esophagus
it is inside my mouth.
my tongue cannot hold it anymore.
i spit it out. it is a worm. it is turning into a coccoon.
it is a butterfly.
it is fluttering.
do you think that it can be the poem for my
busy day today?
it falls. It is dead. It has turned into a leaf.
dust. another dust that i have bitten.
tomorrow, i will swallow another worm.
but i will not bite it again.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
I Have Worms Inside My Mouth
at first i wanted to spit them all
wanting to relieve myself
with all the hassle
in keeping worms
that my friends detest
they tell me
that i must spit them all
for reasons of
sanitation
or perhaps
for my own sanity
i think about it
and the possibilities
of finally throwing up
after all i get
nauseous
this feeling of trying to hide
some things
inside the mouth
(do you know
about it?)
i could not do the throwing up
and so
the worms are still there
it is something
about giving them
temporary shelter
a home
i did not listen to myself
i did not listen to their advices
i decided to keep the worms for good
swallowing each worm
sliding in my esophagus
and finally settling inside the
rooms of my heart
i dream about each worm
wriggling inside my brain
but i keep them still
despite the mixed feelings of
pleasure and pain
one day
the worms become butterflies
and i feel ready for
this beautiful eventuality
i look up
to the heavens
on a very bright day
i spit them
all free
to the skies to the clouds
and to the trees
where they all
rightfully belong
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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85
i wish i have a mouth that knows how to speak my love
i wish i have this kind of mouth that knows to speak
about my love
one that opens so easily and dashes with words like
you know i love you, tell me, do you love me too?
a candid mouth, like a shrew who gambles with words and
will not mind losing
a mouth who kisses your mouth without
shame and if shamed because you slap it
does not bother at all,
one who says, why hide love, why not pour love like a
strong wine to a chalice and let it warm
the glass and let the glass
be nothing but a glass
one that does not mind at all, one that loves and if not loved in
return takes the other possibilities
without regrets
or pain,
the mouth that i have is closed and will not open
afraid
i have kept the words
i love you only for you
like a worm inside my tongue,
wriggling
turning into a little butterfly
that never had the chance to see what is outside
and feel the freedom of air,
yesterday
it died and i keep it for the whole night
now, i spit it out
and my mouth closed again
eating only silence
while you just watch there
asking me
and i said there is nothing to worry
nothing at all
i just don't feel anything and there is nothing
worth saying, i look at you as you go, i hold only to your shadow
and you will never never never know,
this
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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I Wish I Have A Mouth That Knows How To Speak My Love
i wish i have this kind of mouth that knows to speak
about my love
one that opens so easily and dashes with words like
you know i love you, tell me, do you love me too?
a candid mouth, like a shrew who gambles with words and
will not mind losing
a mouth who kisses your mouth without
shame and if shamed because you slap it
does not bother at all,
one who says, why hide love, why not pour love like a
strong wine to a chalice and let it warm
the glass and let the glass
be nothing but a glass
one that does not mind at all, one that loves and if not loved in
return takes the other possibilities
without regrets
or pain,
the mouth that i have is closed and will not open
afraid
i have kept the words
i love you only for you
like a worm inside my tongue,
wriggling
turning into a little butterfly
that never had the chance to see what is outside
and feel the freedom of air,
yesterday
it died and i keep it for the whole night
now, i spit it out
and my mouth closed again
eating only silence
while you just watch there
asking me
and i said there is nothing to worry
nothing at all
i just don't feel anything and there is nothing
worth saying, i look at you as you go, i hold only to your shadow
and you will never never never know,
this
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Worm Either Way
If you live along with all the other people
and are just like them, and conform, and are nice
you're just a worm --
and if you live with all the other people
and you don't like them and won't be like them and won't conform
then you're just the worm that has turned,
in either case, a worm.
The conforming worm stays just inside the skin
respectably unseen, and cheerfully gnaws away at the heart of life,
making it all rotten inside.
The unconforming worm -- that is, the worm that has turned --
gnaws just the same, gnawing the substance out of life,
but he insists on gnawing a little hole in the social epidermis
and poking his head out and waving himself
and saying: Look at me, I am not respectable,
I do all the things the bourgeois daren't do,
I booze and fornicate and use foul language and despise your honest man.--
But why should the worm that has turned protest so much?
The bonnie bonnie bourgeois goes a-whoring up back streets just the same.
The busy busy bourgeois imbibes his little share
just the same
if not more.
The pretty pretty bourgeois pinks his language just as pink
if not pinker,
and in private boasts his exploits even louder, if you ask me,
than the other.
While as to honesty, Oh look where the money lies!
So I can't see where the worm that has turned puts anything over
the worm that is too cunning to turn.
On the contrary, he merely gives himself away.
The turned worm shouts. I bravely booze!
the other says. Have one with me!
The turned worm boasts: I copulate!
the unturned says: You look it.
You're a d----- b----- b----- p----- bb-----, says the worm that's turned.
Quite! says the other. Cuckoo!
poem by David Herbert Lawrence
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Metamorphosis
it is not the story of
the worm turning into
a butterfly
but it is really that
black hairy worm
eating a leaf
after days and days
turning into a butterfly
i do not have the right to hold it
i only have to see it
fly
away.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Part 4: The fish saves the worm
The big-mouth fish, snatched the worm.
As the worm was afraid; a small piece of him,
was left, on the sharp object.
The fish cuddle him, in his mouth.
Swimming as fast as he can;
to make it, close to the shore.
The fish, spit him out, on the land.
As the worm landed, he look toward the fish.
And said, ' thank you for not eating me? '
I wish you well, the fish said. Take care!
As the worm grind his way, toward a new place.
Knowing this ain't his home, the ground was moist.
He drilled a hole, and discover a new home.
The End....
poem by Derrick Clark
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Spit It Out
If theres rage inside you so you cannot think
Spit it out
If you get so angry that you cannot speak
Spit it out
Talk to him or her or it
And tell them where they can put it
Spit it out, spit it out
You got to talk to him or her or it
And take aim with your mouth and spit
Spit it out, spit it out
If you get worked over at your job
Spit it out
If a taxi almost runs you down
Spit it out
You got to take aim with your mouth and speak
And give it to them right between the teeth
Spit it out, spit it out
Talk to him or her or it
And take aim with your mouth and spit
Spit it out, spit it out
Spit it out
Hey, hey, hey
If youre patient and you have the time
Spit it out
Wait till theyre on the decline
Spit it out
The chinese say you meet the hard with the soft
The yin with the yang, the down with the up, oh
Spit it out, spit it out
You got to grab that dumb he, she or it
And give it to them right between the teeth
Spit it out, spit it out
Spit it out, babe, spit it out
Hey
song performed by by Lou Reed
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The (f) Rying Woman....
to pry upon his weakness and to discover
some artifacts from his house is her past time
and every hour when there is a break from the
wanton hours and the monotonous menu of the day
she opens the usual window and watch what the
worm is doing inside the terrarium
she records the possibility that this can be a landmark
of history and significant for what others say as a phenomenon
other people's lives matter
and sometimes the worm that looks at her too asks: why?
the worm, and she does not know this, is also prying upon her
her shrinking breasts, her skin that looks like dry tobacco leaf
her life that to the worm has become more of a raisin
stuffed inside a boxed, with a history of having been dried by the sun
the worm is fair though, in its latest description
she is still sweet though neutral in smell, and deserves still to be liked to be eaten someday
p.s. the worm remarks, kids will like her.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Blood On The Ground
I dont wanna talk to you anymore
Im afraid of what I might say
I bite my tongue every time
You come around
cause blood in my mouth beats
Blood on the ground
Hand over my heart I swear
Ive tried everything I could
Within all my power
2 weeks and 1 hour
I slaved and now
Ive got nothing to show
Oh if only youve grown
Taller than a brick wall
From now on
Gonna start holding my breath
When you
Come around and
You flex that fake grin
cause something inside me has
Said more than twice
That breathing this air
Beats breathing you at all
I dont wanna talk to you anymore
Im afraid of what I might say
I bite my tongue every time
You come around
cause blood in my mouth beats
Blood on the ground
Hand over my mouth
Im earning the right
To my silence
In quiet discerning
Between ego and timing
Good judgment is once again
Proving to me
That its still worth
Its weight in gold
From now on Im gonna be
So much more weary
When you start to speak and
My warm blood starts to boil
Seeing you is like pulling teeth
And hearing your voice
Is like chewing tin foil
I dont wanna talk to you anymore
Im afraid of what I might say
I bite my tongue every time
You come around
cause blood in my mouth beats
Blood on the ground
Im fast to a better judgment
By saying less today
I will gain more, gain more
No cheers to you my
My fickle friend
You, you brought
The art of silent war
I dont wanna talk to you anymore
Im afraid of what I might say
I bite my tongue every time
You come around
cause blood in my mouth beats
Blood on the ground
song performed by by Incubus
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Who Are You?
and the worm
that looks like
a set of thorns
on a glossy leaf
asks the creature
above it with
some wings........................who are you?
and it answered him
i was once in your body
wriggling to be free
asking a lot of questions
to the air and the tree...............i am what you will soon be,
a butterfly...
and the worm does not
believe it greedy as it is
with the sap of the leaves
somehow it feels
something new it is
feeling some wings
growing, some possibilities
lurking inside it.....................................how can this be?
it is the same question
that you have been asking
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Inside Out
Inside out, ooh you got me inside out
Oh inside out, oh inside out
Now everybody keeps on telling me how to be
And everybody tells me do what they say
Oh Ill help myself its up to me and no-one else
But till Im ready just keep out of my way
Inside out, ooh you got me inside out
Oh inside out, oh inside out
Now everybodys got me running round, up and down
And here I am going out of my mind
But I wont lose sight of all the, the things Im looking for
Theyre coming to me and Im taking whats mine
Inside out, ooh you got me inside out
Oh inside out, oh inside out
Ill play the game
Well make the same mistakes
Its all the same
If we can give and take
Hold on, hold on, ooh
Hold on, hold on, ooh
Inside out, ooh you got me inside out
Oh inside out, oh inside out
All of my life Ive been searching and hanging on
Turning a corner, never know what Id find
But now Im back again like I never went away
Ooh let me in Im through with wasting my time
Inside out, ooh you got me inside out
Oh inside out, oh inside out
Oh inside out, ooh you got me inside out
Oh inside out, oh inside out
song performed by by Phil Collins
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Kinderfeld
He lives inside my mouth
And tells me what to say
When he turns the trains
On he makes it go away
The hands are cracked and dirty and
The nails are beetle wings
When he turns the trains on he
Unties all of the strings
The worm: tell me something beautiful,
Tell me something free,
Tell me something beautiful
And I wish that I could be.
(then I got my wings and I never even knew it,
When I was a worm, thought I couldnt get through it)
Jack: (not spoken) come, come
The toys all smell like children
And scab-knees will obey
Ill just have to kneel on broomsticks
Just to make it go away
[the inauguration of the worm]
(then I got my wings and I never even knew it,
When I was a worm, thought I couldnt get through it)
A voice we have not yet heard: because today
Is black/because there is no turning back.
Because your lies have watered me/
I have become the strongest weed weed...
Through jacks eyes:
The taste of metal
Disintegrator
Three holes upon the leather belt
Its cut and swollen
And the age is swollen
Boy: theres no one here to save ourself.
The disintegrator: (to himself)
This is what you should fear
You are what you should fear
song performed by by Marilyn Manson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Collector
I pick things up, I am a collector
And things, well things, they tend to accumulate
I have this net, it drags behind me
It picks up feelings for me to feed upon
There are times, plenty of times
I wish I could let it go
But it's time to breed
And it's got to grow inside me
There are times, plenty of times
I wish I could let it go
But it's time to make me think things
I don't wanna know
I'm trying to fit it all inside
I'm trying to open my mouth wide
I'm trying not to choke
And swallow it all
Swallow it all
Swallow it all
Swallow it all
I am the plague
I am the swarm
All your heart sticks on me
And I keep it warm
It'll make me stay
It won't let me leave
There are so goddamn many of them
It gets hard to breathe
I'm trying to fit it all inside
I'm trying to open my mouth wide
I'm trying not to choke inside
I am a good boy, and I will
Swallow it all
Swallow it all
Swallow it all
Swallow it all
Every last one [19x]
song performed by by Nine Inch Nails
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Twenty-five years
Strong must these teeth be
Gnashing for twenty-five years
And yet whole and unbroken and sharp
Still willing to bite the dust
To chew pride
To masticate pieces of prejudice
And let the throat know
It must swallow and swallow still
There is so much still to be taken in
There is this thirst of the tongue
This hunger of the mouth
The craving of the stomach
The eyes study the art of waiting
The feet prepare to kick and the arms are ready
For the ambush
Of the enemy
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My Way Of Stealing Happiness
i'll take a bite of the luscious grape
break the pulp within
savor the sweetness inside my mouth
play with the hands of my
tongue
i always close my eyes
when i swallow what is supposed
to be yours.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Mouth To Mouth
Ahhhhey!
Ahhhhey!
You tied the knot,
A legend is what you bought
I give you cold water,
And you swear it was wine
You bought time
If you can fool yourself,
Then why not them?
Just keep passing it,
Mouth to mouth to mouth
Ahhhhey!
Ahhhhey!
You tied the knot,
A legend is what you bought
I give you cold water,
And you swear it was wine
You bought time
If you can fool yourself,
Then why not them?
Just keep passing it,
Mouth to mouth to mouth
I can dress up the dead man, but I cant bring him back to life
Bring it out, bring it out
Ahhhhey!
You tied the knot,
Peeled your skin off,
Leave a bungle of nerves
I give you a wet noodle,
You swear that it was my tongue
A sharp one
Instead of that same old
Mouth to mouth to mouth to mouth
I can dress up the dead man, I cant bring him back to life
Bring it out, bring it out
Ahhhhey!
Ahhhhey!
Mouth to mouth
Mouth to mouth
Mouth to mouth
Ahhhhey!
Mouth to mouth
Mouth to mouth
Mouth to mouth to mouth to mouth
I can dress up the dead man, but I cant bring him back to life
I can dress up the dead man, but I cant bring him back to life
I can dress up the dead man, but I cant bring him back to life
I can dress up the dead man, but I cant bring him back to life
I can dress up the dead man, but I cant bring him back to life ...
This is getting old
And so are you.
Everything you know
And never knew.
Will run through your fingers
Just like sand.
Enjoy it while you can.
Like a snake between two stones
It itches in your bones.
Take a deep breath and swallow
Your sorrow
Tomorrow.
So raise it up and lets propose a toast.
To the thing that hurts you most.
Its your last cup of sorrow.
What can you say?
Finish it today.
Its your last cup of sorrow.
So think of me
And get on your way.
It wont begin
Until you make it end.
Until you know the how the where and the when.
With a new face you might surprise yourself.
Like a snake between two stones
It itches in your bones.
Take a deep breath and swallow
Your sorrow
Tomorrow.
So raise it up and lets propose a toast.
To the thing that hurts you most.
Its your last cup of sorrow.
What can you say?
Finish it today.
Its your last cup of sorrow.
So think of me
And get on your way!
You might surprise yourself
You might surprise yourself
You might surprise yourself
You might surprise yourself
You might surprise yourself
You might surprise yourself
You might surprise yourself
You might surprise yourself
You might surprise yourself
You might surprise yourself
You might surprise yourself
song performed by by Faith No More
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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This Is My Poem
This is my poem of ______. (date)
This is my poem, written by myself.
This is my first poem never written.
This is my last poem now to be written.
This is the poem I would have written
if I had lived yesterday what I lived today.
This is my poem changing white light
into gold-leaf
and blue into violet.
This is my poem like a heaven twisting
and turning inside of me
all night long.
This is my poem of opening a window
to show what was always inside.
This is my poem encompassing everything
hope can bestow or chance agree with.
This is my poem of open-ended freedom.
This is my poem breathing life into motion.
This is my poem written as I wrote it
a living being.
And this is my poem ending;
but only for today..
poem by Patti Masterman
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Smaller And Smaller
----------------------------------------------------------------------------
(p) Faith No More
< Mike Bordin: Drums; Roddy Bottum: Keyboards;
Billy Gould: Bass Guitar; Jim Martin: Guitar;
Mike Patton: Vocals >
( Angel Dust [Slash Records, 1992] )
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Drought makes the workers dream
Muscles and fields of green
Shovel the last few crumbs
Of generosity
Open heart, open mind, open mouth, open vein
DRAIN
Someday the rains will come
My blistered hands tell me
Tomorrow, Tomorrow, Tomorrow
BITE
BITE
BITE
CRY
I'll keep coming back
smaller and smaller and smaller
squash me
smaller and smaller and smaller
under the charity
smaller and smaller and smaller
under the topsoil
smaller and smaller and smaller
under the fingernail
smaller and smaller and smaller
then small becomes all becomes all.......
BITE
BITE
BITE
CRY
It's not a mirage
It's not a mirage
trickling downward, trickling downward
It's not a mirage
DRAIN
DRAIN
BITE
BITE
BITE
CRY
smaller and smaller and smaller and smaller and smaller.......
----------------------------------------------------------------------------
song performed by by Faith No More
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Another Conversa Mi Amiga....
i am proud to say, i do not hide my ignorance and lapses 7: 06 AM
but i always hide my eggs 7: 06 AM
Me
h ehehe 7: 06 AM
for fear that it may get burned 7: 07 AM
Me
but 7: 07 AM
it is because uv got confidence 7: 07 AM
ur ignorance is minimal hehehe 7: 07 AM
compared to us 7: 07 AM
confidence is the flower of ignorance 7: 07 AM
Me
so nasa taas gihapon ka 7: 07 AM
safe up there 7: 07 AM
u can still be naked 7: 08 AM
it is cold up there 7: 08 AM
lonelier 7: 08 AM
because there only a few of me here 7: 08 AM
(har har har) 7: 08 AM
'few of me' 7: 08 AM
Me
t ht's confidence hehehe 7: 08 AM
few og u 7: 08 AM
looking down the cliff and asking the ant 7: 08 AM
Me
of u 7: 08 AM
Hey mr. ant what's breakfast? 7: 08 AM
what is the weather down there? 7: 09 AM
and the ant said 7: 09 AM
You worm, why are you up there? 7: 09 AM
you will die when the sun comes up? 7: 09 AM
Me
h ehehehe 7: 09 AM
wow 7: 09 AM
and i said, how dare you call me worm? 7: 09 AM
i am a caterpillar 7: 10 AM
and the ant said: caterpillar is a worm, idiot! 7: 10 AM
Me
h ahahaha 7: 10 AM
and the caterpillar said: watch out when i become a butterfly 7: 10 AM
i will ride the sun 7: 10 AM
Me
s unog 7: 10 AM
and the ant said: try it mr. butterfly, sting like a bee and be 7: 11 AM
that dead boxer of the world 7: 11 AM
Me
n ice story 7: 11 AM
and the worm said: (yucks, this ants knows many things 7: 11 AM
Me
h ahahah 7: 11 AM
how come does he know about muhamad?) 7: 11 AM
Me
h umble ant 7: 11 AM
and the ant said: hey worm, i can hear you? i have feet with ears 7: 12 AM
Me
b ecause the ant is grounded hehehe 7: 12 AM
she knows and she sees 7: 12 AM
and the worm said: with ears or not, you are still the ant that feed on morsels and dead leaves 7: 12 AM
ant: well, at least i feed myself from honest means 7: 13 AM
worm: i did not say that you are dishonest, and what's honesty got to do with our conversation? 7: 13 AM
Me
h ahaha 7: 13 AM
true 7: 13 AM
ant: (ugma na lang ta maghuman kay magsulat pag balak si alis kweng ka) 7: 14 AM
ha ha 7: 14 AM
nadalahig ka hinoon sa akong ka buang 7: 14 AM
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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... Dust
If only dust could talk
What would we hear it say?
Before it's brushed aside
Just as it's swept away
It's just the evidence
It's of no consequence
It's only flesh and bone
Why don't we leave it alone?
If only dust could gather into lines of chalk
Around a silhouette detective fiction walks
For it's the only witness that can testify
Can I spit out the truth?
Or would you rather just swallow a lie?
Why did they dam the land?
How did they flood the plain?
Did they erase the name?
And wipe away the stain
You kept your mouth well shut
Appeared to turn your coat
Now there's a name for you but it's stuck in my throat
If dust could only mutter
Or in laughter trill
If it could warn and whisper from the windowsill
But it's the only witness that can testify
Can I split out the truth?
Or would you rather just swallow a lie?
Here comes the juggernaut
Here come The Poisoners
They choke the life and land
And rob the joy from us
Why do they taste of sugar?
Oh, when they're made of money
Here come the Lamb of God
And the butcher's boy, sonny
If dust could only gather in the needle track
Then it would skip a beat and it would jump right back
If dust could only gather in a needle track
Then it would skip a beat
And all the sense I lack
song performed by by Elvis Costello
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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