Splat!
I watched the woodlouse cross the floor.
It slowly crawled to the patio doors,
then, it tried to creep under my seat!
I caught my breath, I nearly screamed.
I couldn't possibly leave it there,
Good God, it might climb up the stairs!
So I hid, was quiet and as it moved
I clobbered it with the heel of my shoe!
Well I didn't dare sweep it under the mat
so I made damn sure the woodlouse went splat!
poem by Ruth Walters

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Related quotes
Breath Baby Breath By: Taylor Donnelly
Breath Baby Breath
By: Taylor Donnelly
Oh the fire the fire is burning
The thought in you are still churning
Around and around
Waiting for your feet to touch back down
I wait on this corning by Paige street
Wondering if there is a day in our future we will meet
We are fading into oblivion
We are fading so fast
Caught in the cross fire
Hoping that this will last
There is a fire that burn blue
And maybe a little gray too
There is a garden as green as you
I'll help it grow as you do
I'll help it grow as you do
There is a mountain to tall to climb
But if you ever reach the top they'll make it a crime
There is boy who will never hold my hand
But god damn it i understand
Come with me come fly away
Leave this god forsaken day
There is a fire that burn blue
And maybe a little gray too
Breath in deeply
Breath in slowly
Breath
Breath baby breath
Slow down
I feel deep and dirt I'm your I'm yours
I feel deep and dirty but your but yours
I'm yours I'm yours
There is a fire that burn blue
And a little gray too
poem by Taylor P. Donnelly

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Revenge
Pushed me off the dirty floor
You watched as my head hit the floor
You watched as I rolled round and round
You watched as I came tumbling down
You watched as I rolled down the stairs
You never wished me - fare thee well!
You watched as I got on my feet
I ran towards her and she started to plead, no!
Aint got time for what you feel
You did it again
You did it again
You did it again and again and again, ho, ho!
Far below original sin
Far below the state Im in
Far below malicious crimes
Far below her for the time
Far below
Far below
Far below is the place youll go, ho!
Aint got time for what you feel
You did it again
You did it again
You did it again and again and again, ho, ho!
Oh went through the window, quiet as a mouse
No sound was stirring throughout the house
Id heard a noise that made me startle
But I kept on walking down the corridor
Yes the corridor
Yes the corridor
And there you were with a man once more, no!
Aint got time for what you feel
You did it again
You did it again
You did it again and again and again
You did it again
You did it again
You did it again and again and again, ho, ho!
song performed by by Ministry

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Home-Coming
This was our house. To this we came
Lighted by love with torch aflame,
And in this chamber, door locked fast,
I held you to my heart at last.
This was our house. In this we knew
The worst that Time and Fate can do.
You left the room bare, wide the door;
You did not love me any more.
Where once the kind warm curtain hung
The spider's ghostly cloth is flung;
The beetle and the woodlouse creep
Where once I loved your lovely sleep.
Yet so the vanished spell endures,
That this, our house, still, still is yours.
Here, spite of all these years apart,
I still can hold you to my heart!
poem by Edith Nesbit

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Lay Down Beside Me
somethin' about the way you moved
caught my eye
really didn't have to try it yeah
i can't deny it
the way your body swinged
as i watched from behind
go me so excited yes
i couldn't fight it baby yeah
baby let me be the one to hold you baby
give you the things i know you missed
my lady
i know that we can't wait another lifetime
if couldn't never find
lovin' like this...
chorus:
if you lay down
lay down beside me
you can get beside me
i can get on inside you too
if you lay down
lay down beside me
you might wake up
wake up beside me
forever and ever babe
tonight
(tonight)
we'll find
find just what we've been lookin' for
good good lovin' and a whole lot more
so hold on
(hold on)
we'll fly...
hold me and don't you let go
that's what i said to do (HEYYYY)
woo!
repeat chorus (the end)
song performed by by Backstreet Boys

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Helen and You and the Bombed Out Factory
Ought we to go in there?
Helen asked
as you both stood outside
the bombed out factory
off Rockingham Street
sure we should
you said
but it's got
STAY OUT signs
on the big doors
she said
you looked at her
with her thick lens glasses
and her hair tied in plaits
nibbling her finger in anxiety
come on in
you said
nothing will happen to you
while you're with me
she didn't look convinced
what if someone sees us?
she asked
no one cares around here
kids are always going
on bombsites
you said
she looked around
her eyes seemingly larger
than they were
are you sure?
she said
yes now come on
and you took
her small hand
and pulled her through
a small opening
in the side
where other kids
had made an entrance
she a pulled face
on the other side
of the gate
and rubbed her arm
where a line of blood showed
look
she said
I've scratched myself
you dabbed at it
with a grey handkerchief
and spittle and she watched
as you cleared up
the line of blood
will it be all right?
yes
you said
it'll be fine
and you walked on
across the yard
and into the bombed out factory by
a door hanging
on its hinges
and into the dark interior
she stood by the entrance inside
and took in the semi darkness
it's frightening
she said
no one is here
you said
how do you know?
she asked
it's too quiet
you said
she leaned closer to you
and grabbed your arm
what was that?
she whispered
a rat probably
what? she said
a rat
you said
let's go out
she said
nothing will hurt you
while I'm here
and you patted
the toy gun
in the belt
of your jeans
she looked at you
then out
into the semi darkness
you walked in
and up the stone stairs
by a wall
and she followed
her breathing
becoming louder
as you walked up
once at the top
and along a landing
you came to a small office
where the door was missing
and there was a hole
in the roof where a bomb
had blown it off
as well as other parts
of the building
you stood
looking around
the room
where rain had rotted
what furniture remained
and on the floor
were books soaked
and rotting
Helen said
can we go now?
you looked up
through the hole
in the roof
and there
was the afternoon sun
and a white cloud
moving slowly across
a blue sky
and she moved
next to you
and kissed your cheek
but you didn't know why.
poem by Terry Collett

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Steps
How many steps must I take
How many feet must I walk
How many stairs must I climb
Until I find the answer that I stalk
How many miles must I travel
How many journeys must I take
How many shoes must I wear
Until that truth I finally awake
How many blocks must I run
How many corners must I turn
How fast must I really be
Until that answer I finally do learn
How many doors must I knock upon
How many calls must I make
How many thoughts must I think
Until I find the answer with no mistake
How many stairs must I climb
How many rivers must I cross
How many lands must I visit
Until I find the truth that has been lost.
How many dreams must I have
How many places must I go
How many paths must I walk down
Just to find the truth, that I wish to know.
poem by Randy McClave

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Attempted Escape.
Each morning Tess waited nervously
for the nursing officer to arrive on
the locked ward, and spot on time
each morning he came with his small
black briefcase and went to his office
on the locked ward of the asylum, and
after a few minutes she was allowed
in for her daily requested interview.
She sat in the chair opposite him, he
fresh from the sane world, sat there
with his brushed teeth and groomed
hair, intent look behind his glasses.
When can I get out of his ward and
home? she asked him each morning;
when we consider you are ready and
safe to be let out, he replied each day
with the same calm voice, the same
deep tones. And off she'd go to begin
another day with those whom she
considered mad or seemingly dead.
Every day at the same time they would
bring along the meals from the kitchen;
they would unlock the double doors,
bring in the trays of meals from a trolley,
leave the doors unattended for the time
it took to bring in the trays, and then
locked the doors again. Tess waited and
watched every time they came timing
by the clock on the wall how long it took
and how long the doors were unlocked.
This day she waited; time ticked slowly,
as she stood in her dressing gown by the
doorway to the bedrooms and watched
as they unlocked the thick double doors.
She waited until they unlocked the doors
and entered with the first of the trays,
then she ran like one possessed, out of
the doors and along the corridors and
heard the commotion behind her as she
ran, and the shouting and screaming and
calls, and the thundering footsteps behind
and then two burly male nurses tackled
her to the ground and held her there
beneath their mass and smelly breath,
seeing the lights on the ceiling flicker on
and off, not far away a woman screamed,
nearby she heard a man's rough cough.
poem by Terry Collett

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The Day You Started To Walk
Baby, When you were eight months old,
you were thin and enterprising,
liked to know about everything,
that were kept at heights and locked,
you crawled for a month all around,
and picked up anything from the ground,
so we made our home 'baby safe'
you did like to crawl up the stairs,
first head in front and then turned,
tried to crawl back in the stairs,
so I taught you,
to climb up step by step,
when I checked you, you reached the top,
with much ease and valiant,
made noise from the top to carry you down.
Do you remember the day,
that you started to walk?
I still remember you standing up,
At first it was very tough for you,
to carry your own weight on your feet,
you cried a lot and I was sad,
but I had to let you go through,
the life's lesson and you are the one,
must learn your own lesson and,
no one can ever help you to do it for you.
you held the cupboard for support,
and started to take the steps,
you were crying a lot,
and the drops of tears fell,
on your beautiful cheeks,
I was there beside you,
to hold you, in case if you might fall,
watching you walking,
catching in the camera and memory,
slowly in two days,
you did not need support,
started to walk,
slowly and steadily,
with both hands wide open,
to keep yourselves balanced,
you started the journey,
to travel on this earth,
as a courageous independent human,
with that first step taken,
just in front of me.
poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi

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Hot
she was hot, she was so hot
I didn't want anybody else to have her,
and if I didn't get home on time
she'd be gone, and I couldn't bear that-
I'd go mad. . .
it was foolish I know, childish,
but I was caught in it, I was caught.
I delivered all the mail
and then Henderson put me on the night pickup run
in an old army truck,
the damn thing began to heat halfway through the run
and the night went on
me thinking about my hot Miriam
and jumping in and out of the truck
filling mailsacks
the engine continuing to heat up
the temperature needle was at the top
HOT HOT
like Miriam.
leaped in and out
3 more pickups and into the station
I'd be, my car
waiting to get me to Miriam who sat on my blue couch
with scotch on the rocks
crossing her legs and swinging her ankles
like she did,
2 more stops. . .
the truck stalled at a traffic light, it was hell
kicking it over
again. . .
I had to be home by 8,8 was the deadline for Miriam.
I made the last pickup and the truck stalled at a signal
1/2 block from the station. . .
it wouldn't start, it couldn't start. . .
I locked the doors, pulled the key and ran down to the
station. . .
I threw the keys down. . .signed out. . .
your goddamned truck is stalled at the signal,
I shouted,
Pico and Western. . .
. . .I ran down the hall,put the key into the door,
opened it. . .her drinking glass was there, and a note:
poem by Charles Bukowski

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When Innocence Doesn't Matter
I've been there before
When I wasn’t even guilty
What they found didn’t belong to me
But they made me feel so filthy
Put me in hand cuffs
Then put me in shackles
While they put me in the police car
I swear I could hear evil cackles
You’re gonna get it now
You won’t get out this time
Your gonna do a bid
For your freaking crime
But Your Honor it’s wasn’t mine
But it was in your CAR
But still I don’t smoke that stuff
Must have been the guy from the bar
I was a little bit drunk
When this guy asked for a ride
He didn’t look very scary
So we both went outside
Took me a while to find the car
And unlocked all the doors
My new friend buckled up
With his feet planted on the floor
Where to I asked him
Just up the road a bit
Then he lit a pot pipe
And took a deep hit
He asked me if I wanted any
that’s when I saw the flashing lights
I told him I don’t do that shit
But thought what a freaking night
Then we got pulled over
There was so much smoke
I couldn’t prove I didn’t hit it
That I didn’t a toke
So in the car I went
And they took me off the jail
I had to call my dad to help
But he couldn’t make the bail
So off to jail I went
I was innocent of possession
Now I was really mad
And filled with depression
What I didn’t know
Was that he had a gun
He left it my car
When he couldn’t run
They told me it doesn’t matter
Whether or not I draw
Cause when it’s in your car
Possession is the law
The other guy went to jail too
But that don’t bother me none
I can’t believe I was so stupid
To give ride to a guy with gun
I was going off to jail
For three hundred days
Course they lowered the charge
But in prison I still had to stay
I would get off for good behavior
I wasn’t criminal, of course I would
So after one hundred and fifty days
I finally got out for good
poem by Linda Racaniello

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Pick Up That Broom and Sweep, Boy
Pick up that broom and sweep, boy.
If you wanna eat.
You gotta get sweepin'
Pick up that broom and sweep, boy.
If you wanna eat.
You gotta get sweepin
And if you don't sweep,
You ain't going to sleep.
Pick up that broom and sweep, boy.
If you wanna eat.
You gotta get sweepin'
Pick up that broom and sweep, boy.
Nobody's peepin' on the way you sweep.
And if you don't sweep,
You ain't going to sleep.
And you wont sleep,
If you don't eat.
So I suggest get off your seat...
Grab that broom and commence to sweepin'
Pick up that broom and sweep, boy.
If you wanna eat.
You gotta get sweepin'
Pick up that broom and sweep, boy.
Nobody's peepin' on the way you sweep.
And if you don't sweep,
You ain't going to sleep.
And you wont sleep,
If you don't eat.
So I suggest get off your seat...
Grab that broom and commence to sweepin'
Pick up that broom and sweep, boy.
If you wanna eat.
You gotta get sweepin
And if you don't sweep,
You ain't going to sleep.
So don't try sneakin' tippy toe on your feet,
Across this floor because it creaks.
And when that happens...
My dog Pete,
Will do his best to sink his teeth.
Right into your funky meat.
And you'll go screamin down the street.
And I'll report you to the police.
Who will bring you back here...
Once again until you sweep.
And it you don't do it,
You'll join those who've been deleted!
'You better pick up that broom,
And sweep, boy! '
~I gotcha 'boy' ol'man! ~
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

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I Couldn't Understand You
I'm sorry I wasn't good enough.
I'm sorry I couldn't make you care.
I'm sorry I didn't no what else to do.
I'm sorry I am no longer there.
I'm sorry I couldn't open your eyes.
I'm sorry I let it come this far.
I'm sorry I made you so mad.
I'm sorry I for whatever you said I did.
I'm sorry I couldn't see the truth.
I'm sorry I didn't want to listen.
I'm sorry I helped you when no one else would.
I'm sorry for always being there.
I'm sorry for so many things,
but I'm most sorry that I'm not sorry anymore.
poem by Emily Straka

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Clairvoyant landscapes moving yet frozen
Give me a paintbrush to define poetry
All movements of a riverbed reflected
Give me a pen inks flowing subjectively.
I'll show you a spotted salmon swam willingly
To climb out the furthest deepest, falls…
A poets like a woodlouse's gnawing
…Away at life, from inside-out…
What he builds places for the quivering air?
A bridge over the void of space…
Like a spider weaving her web to snare.
Poets tend to live in Blue-John mines
In some mystical crystal hermits cavern
Listening to the lapping of spring waters
They're like remote smokestacks lingering
On clairvoyant landscapes moving yet frozen.
poem by Mark Heathcote

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(Angry Poem) Blood On The Floor
Mark My Words,
This Will Not End Good.
I Can Already See The Blood On Floor.
Spilt Everywhere.
All Because Of You.
All Because You Can Never Lose.
Always Right Never Wrong.
Just Walk Away Leave It Alone.
Its Like Trying To Talk To A Brick Wall.
There's Just No Way To Get Through To You.
Mark My Words,
This Will No End Good. I Can Already Blood On The Floor.
Must We Go Through This Once More.
The Stress Builds,
The Headache Becomes A Migraine.
Too Close To Just Losing It.
Becoming Completely Insane
Going On A Rampage.
I Just Can't Stop Now,
I Won't Stop Now.
Not Till The Place Is Burnt To The Ground.
Buried In Mounds Of Ash Lie's A Key chain Its All That Will Be Left Of You.
Please Oh Please Just Stop Enough Is Enough.
A Scream After Every Heartbeat.
No Reason,
No Logic Behind All This.
Just Swallow That God Damn Pride.
Or Just Go Kill Yourself,
Yes Oh Yes Beautiful Suicide.
This World Would Be So Much Of A Better Place.
Mark My Words,
This Will Not End Good.
I Can Already See The Blood On The Floor.
You Opened This Door.
Now Theirs No Going Back.
You Better Just Shut Up Now, Now, Now.
I Say Bow, Bow, Bow,
Beg For Mercy, Kiss My God Damn Feet.
For We Have Reach The Tipping Point.
Just Relax It Will Be Quick.
It Will Be A Great Ending To This.
Mark My Words,
This Will Not End Good.
I Can Already See The Blood On The Floor.
As The Anger In Me Soar.
Like An Eagle I'm Flying So High Right Now.
With Nothing But Pure Adrenaline
I'm Prepared To Rip You Heart Out With My Talons So Sharp.
Mark My Words,
This Will Not End Good.
I Can already See The Blood On The Floor.
Theirs Just So Much Blood On The Floor.
Just So God Damn Much Blood On The Floor.
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts

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I started Early - Took my Dog
I started Early - Took my Dog -
And visited the Sea -
The Mermaids in the Basement
Came out to look at me -
And Frigates - in the Upper Floor
Extended Hempen Hands -
Presuming Me to be a Mouse -
Aground - upon the Sands -
But no Man moved Me - till the Tide
Went past my simple Shoe -
And past my Apron - and my Belt
And past my Bodice - too -
And made as He would eat me up -
As wholly as a Dew
Upon a Dandelion's Sleeve -
And then - I started - too -
And He - He followed - close behind -
I felt His Silver Heel
Upon my Ankle - Then my Shoes
Would overflow with Pearl -
Until We met the Solid Town -
No One He seemed to know -
And bowing - with a Mighty look -
At me - The Sea withdrew -
poem by Emily Dickinson

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By The Sea
I started early, took my dog,
And visited the sea;
The mermaids in the basement
Came out to look at me.
And frigates in the upper floor
Extended hempen hands,
Presuming me to be a mouse
Aground, upon the sands.
But no man moved me till the tide
Went past my simple shoe,
And past my apron and my belt,
And past my bodice too,
And made as he would eat me up
As wholly as a dew
Upon a dandelion's sleeve -
And then I started too.
And he - he followed close behind;
I felt his silver heel
Upon my ankle, - then my shoes
Would overflow with pearl.
Until we met the solid town,
No man he seemed to know;
And bowing with a mighty look
At me, the sea withdrew.
poem by Emily Dickinson

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I know
A busy woodlouse wends his way
across the tiles of black and gray.
A vast expanse beneath the sky
I wonder where he goes and why.
A tiny creature harming none
he journeys on his way alone in danger
from the birds that fly.
I wonder where he goes and why.
Wood lice have no defence at all
except to curl up into a ball.
He hurries on determinedly.
I wonder where he goes and why.
Now he will travel on no more
he has become the breakfast for
a hungry blackbird passing by.
I know where he’s gone and why.
Revised sep 07
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg

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My Red House
My Red House
Be quiet as a mouse
I once played in that red house
Shy was I, like a little mouse
Tippy toed I went looking around
Giggling, without making any sound
Happy was I to run around and play
My very own home to live and stay
My Red House
Be quiet as a mouse
Darkness came swiftly one night
A sense of something was not quite right
The shadows came across the wall
Covering my eyes, ready for my fall
The sounds of whips and chains dragged
against the floor
The sheer terror numbed me from looking
passed that door
My Red House
Be quiet as a mouse
The darkness slowly turned to grey
The black clouds lifting away
No longer trapped, I did not need to stay
Free was I to let go and make my own way
So ever slowly, opening that door
I could see the light and so much more
My Red House
Be quiet as a mouse
Changing and always moving
Never stopping and always wanting
Step by step, I shed all those tears
One at a time, I climbed up those stairs
Moving closer to where I want to be
No longer a child but an adult me
My Red House
Be quiet as a mouse
I came home today
The Red House, same as it was yesterday
Slowly, walking up that hill
Everything seems to be in a stand still
I could only stay for a while
Before the darkness comes within a mile
My Red House
Be quiet as a mouse
The breath of life you gave to me
But took away the child within me
No longer a pawn to your destruction
I have found my peace and resolution
Turning away towards the path of light
I see a very beautiful sight
My Red House
There is no longer a mouse
poem by Miu Miu Ayushi

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Swan Dive
The windows were open
The night air was cold,
The curtains were blowing
Like ribbons of gold,
We stood there forever
Both Henry and me,
The night his wife dived
Off the balcony.
We looked at each other
We each shook our head,
And waited to hear if
The poor girl was dead,
I looked at my watch
It was just after three,
When Gwendoline dived
Off the balcony.
I waited a moment, then:
'What did I say?
Was that a faux pas about
You in Calais?
Or did she take umbrage
When I poured the tea?
Is that why she jumped
Off the balcony? '
'Don't think for a moment,
Old chap, ' he had said,
'I thought she had mumbled
And stumbled to bed!
She'd said she had someone
Tomorrow to see,
So why would she dive
Off the balcony? '
We walked very gingerly
Out through the door,
And peered on down from
The fifty-sixth floor,
I thought I could see a small
Splat by a tree,
Just where she had dived
Off the balcony.
Could that be your Gwendoline,
There on the ground?
That's funny, she dived all
That way, made no sound!
Not one little scream -
Did you hear? ' - 'Not me! '
When Gwendoline dived
Off the balcony.
The police galloped up
By the lift, through the doors,
'That splat in the courtyard, sir,
Could it be yours? '
Then Henry admitted that
It could well be,
His wife, who had dived
Off the balcony!
They made us go down with
A bucket and mop:
'Clean up every vestige,
Remove every drop!
You can't go round leaving
Wives haphazardly,
Whenever they dive
Off the balcony! '
They made us feel humble,
We lowered our heads,
I picked up her armpits,
He mopped up her legs,
But bits of her weren't where
In truth, they should be,
When Gwendoline dived
Off the balcony.
Much later he told me that
Wives one and two,
Had left in the very same way,
I said, 'True? '
It seems Gwendoline had been
Wife number three,
Who'd taken a dive
Off the balcony.
Now Henry has married
Again, number four,
He's moved his apartment down
To the ground floor,
He locks all his windows
And tells Stephanie,
'Don't ever you dive like
Wives one, two and three! '
3 June 2009
poem by David Lewis Paget

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The Death Penalty
Bring back the death penalty screamed a lady as the blood ran, dripping from the cold concrete as her sons blood fled from its body. Bring back, bring back the death penalty screamed a mother as her child dies slowly watching the pools of life fade away from his eyes.
Bring back, bring back the death penalty screamed a mother while she watched her child being killed by the hands of another man, bring back the death penalty.
Bring back the death penalty as she screamed holding her dying child while he laid his last words and breath upon her chest. Bring back the death penalty she screamed in mercy so that she will so that she will no longer have to hold any more of her dying sons and lay them in graves before she lays in her own.
Bring back the death penalty she screamed as her sons soul left his body and he became another victim to a violent society. Bring back the death penalty, bring back our sons.
poem by Melvyn Mohan

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