Poem Attack
Poem, having grown teeth,
Somehow got out of a notebook
That lay on a dusty shelf,
And jumped me.
Its assault lasted an infinity.
It honed in on my hand,
Ripping to the root a
Penile finger, which action,
I think, gave it the idea
Of hitting me below the belt.
The doctor in hospital
Moving my bandages away,
Mechanically asked,
'Do you smoke? '
'That ain't the half of it, '
I answered.
poem by Stan Petrovich
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Related quotes
The Hand That Feeds
Doctor, doctor, doctor
Please, doctor, doctor, please
Doctor, doctor, doctor
Feel like an old diseace
Get your sweet ass off the floor
Doctor, doctor, doctor
I cant refuse any loose harted lady anymore
I scream your name into the crowd
You feel the flame, but yo aint proud
Mabye your attitude aint right
So all thats left for me to do is bite
The hand that feeds me
Feeds me
Doctor, doctor, doctor
Doctor, doctor, please
All things you put me through
What the hell you want me to
Do all the things that uncle john needs
I aint the dog that bites the hand that feeds me
In the middle of, with a spittle of
Et tu like birds of a feather
When another day, love another way
Push, shove, make love, play
Never never, never ever
Never ever, never ever
Na, na...
Doctor, doctor, doctor
Please do a-what you can
Doctor, doctor, doctor
Would you please give my life a hand
All the things you put me trough
What the hell you want me to
Do all the things that uncle john needs
I aint the dog that bites the hand that feeds me, yeah
Doctor, doctor, doctor
Doctor, doctor, please
(repeat)
song performed by by Aerosmith
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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This And That
I ASKED FOR BREAD!
A STONE THEY GAVE ME!
I ASKED FOR WATER!
A CUP OF VENOM THEY GAVE ME!
I ASKED FOR MEAT!
LO! VEGETABLES THEY GAVE ME!
I ASKED FOR CLOTHES!
AND THEY GAVE ME RAGS!
I ASKED FOR WEALTH!
AND THEY GAVE ME POVERTY!
I ASKED FOR PEACE!
AND THEY GAVE ME TROUBLES!
I ASKED FOR LOVE!
AND THEY GAVE ME WICKEDNESS!
TEMPT NOT THIS LORD!
ASK ME NOT FOR HELP!
FOR I SHALL GIVE TO YOU AS YOU GAVE TO ME!
TEMPT ME NOT I SAY!
ASK ME NOT FOR THIS!
FOR I SHALL GIVE YOU THAT!
poem by Overlord Don Manuel Ihcakeyno
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Uncertain match plays in the ground of Radiation!
The whole World is sick and in the Asylum
Patients were given the Tranquilizers!
And they watch the match with Doctor Confused!
Thank God! The Sea is calm and there won't be any Tsunami?
The head umpire is not certain whether the ball touched the bat
And it's an out?
He's requested the decision from the match Referee.
An Alien comes with a deep cry from a different Planet.
Doctor asked what can I do for you?
'I am a fortune teller' He replied.
'Oh! You came in the right time and is it out? '
'I am not sure.'
'Then who wins the match? '
'That's uncertain.'
'I have a hole in the heart since my childhood and it's very painful
Even the Tetanus scared to approach and finish this sad story.'
Doctor gave him a Morphine injection!
And all is quiet now, match goes on!
I too watch this entertaining game from infinity!
To all the Cricket fans in gratitude!
(Including my friend JVL.)
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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When a compassionate Nurse dress your wounds
Doctor told him' You are all right and discharge in the evening.'
The patient begs; ' I would like to stay one more night Doctor.'
'It's up to you.'
He informed his beloved wife; 'Hey! Darling, Doctor wants to see me tomorrow for an urgent matter, no idea? '
And he waits till the kind Nurse's visit to his cubicle room.
But another one came and she is on leave it seems.
He dreamed in the particular night that he met an accident and admitted to the same hospital.
* Human mind is an untamed beast explores new adventures?
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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A Ode Poem To You
My mother gave me an ode poem, oh how I love that poem
The scene of her perfume on it, the picture of me in her arms
This letter I keep with me all the time, I love it so much I sleep with it under my pillow
To her nice hand writing, to the black ink she wrote in, she wrote until her ink went low
My poem is great, my poem is wonderful, to the white paper she wrote on it’s beautiful
To the green words of the title, my poem she gave me is the best
I love how she gave the lip stick print on the top of my poem, sad to say she's at rest
I will always love the poem she gave to me before she passed
To the words in the poem she gave me will always endure
Word by word my lovely poem is speaking to me gratefully
This ode poem was from my mom and for only me sincerely
I love my poem, oh how wonderful it can be
Its so wonderful do you want to read,
Take a look, take a look and you will see
poem by Twilight Simmons
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A Day Of Counting
You gave it
when you were poor.
Today I went to unwrap the gift.
The soul! Ripping out from the body
to deconstruct my vernacular pain.
Pulling off the toenails to extract a promise.
Feet first; the birth of a child to die sooner in the crib.
My brother, tell me, do you understand
my imperishable grief.
For a future’s peace
sing my poem, sing ascendancy.
For laughing skulls in a killing field,
ideation will become a routine talk.
Give me a hand, brother,
am I insane?
Becoming teeth of wisdom was a crime?
poem by Satish Verma
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Preface to God's Determinations Touching His Elect
Infinity, when all things it beheld
In Nothing, and of Nothing all did build,
Upon what base was fixed the lath wherein
He turned this globe and rigalled it so trim?
Who blew the bellows of His furnace vast?
Or held the mold wherein the world was cast?
Who laid its cornerstone? Or whose command?
Where stand the pillars upon which it stands?
Who laced and filleted the earth so fine,
With rivers like green ribbons smaragdine?
Who made the seas its selvedge and it locks
Like a quilt ball within a silver box?
Who spread its canopy? Or curtains spun?
Who in this bowling alley bowled the sun?
Who made it always when it rises set,
To go at once both down, and up to get?
Who the curtain rods made for this tapestry?
Who hung the twinkling lanterns in the sky?
Who? Who did this? Or who is He? Why, know
It's only Might Almighty this did do.
His hand hath made this noble work which stands,
His glorious handiwork not made by hands.
Who spake all things from nothing; and with ease.
Can speak all things to nothing, if He please.
Whose little finger at His pleasure can
Out mete ten thousand worlds with half a span:
Whose Might Almighty can by half a looks
Root up the rocks and rock the hills by the roots.
Can take this mighty world up in His hand,
And shake it like a squitchen or a wand.
Whose single frown will make the heavens shake
Like as an aspen-leaf the wind makes quake.
Oh, what a might is this Whose single frown
Doth shake the world as it would shake it down?
Which All on Nothing fet, from Nothing, All:
Hath All on Nothing set, lts Nothing fall.
Gave All to nothing-man indeed, whereby
Through nothing-man all might him glorify.
In Nothing then embossed the brightest gem
More precious than all preciousness in them.
But nothing-man did throw down all by sin:
And darkened that lightsome gem in him.
That now his brightest diamond is grown
Darker by far than any coal-pit stone.
poem by Edward Taylor
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Keep That Thought
Why is the palm of your hand so wet and sweaty?
'I've never been 'here' in this position before.
And I am nervous about it.'
You don't look as if you are.
'That has nothing to do with my feelings.
And 'If' you were not holding my hand,
You would not have heard me confess it.'
But...
I thought you were the one protecting me?
That's why I asked 'you' to hold my hand.
'Keep that thought.
You have no idea how much that motivates,
The both of us.
Comeon...
Let's keep moving forward.'
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Just My Luck (Fun Poem 73)
I went to the dentist
for the first time in twenty years.
Sat in the waiting room
waiting to get my call.
Finally, it came
and I reluctantly went in,
hand shaking and nervous as can be
and was surprised to find
the dentist looked
like she had just walked out of the centrefold
of a Playboy magazine.
She was blonde
and dropp dead gorgeous.
Instead of a man looking like,
he had just walked out of a rugby scrum.
Trust little old me to gets this beauty.
I sat in the chair
took out my false teeth
knowing she wouldn’t want to see them
and opened my mouth wider
so she could have a peek inside.
“I’m going to have to take an X-ray at those.”
“No problem.” I replied.
After the X-rays were taken,
she asked me what pills I was on.
“The one you put in your shoe to make you go limp.”
I replied jokingly.
Sadly she didn’t get the joke I’m afraid.
However, because of the pills, I was on
and the way the tooth
was embedded in my gum.
I have to go to the hospital
to have the darn thing out.
Just my luck.
Here I get the prettiest dentist
to fool around with my teeth
and she then refers me to the hospital.
Doesn’t that just take the cake.
Just my luck.
There is a small consolation when I go.
They will knock me out
and I won’t see who is pulling out my teeth.
25 April 2008
poem by David Harris
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We Are Jonah
And the round old fox, stepped up to make his speech
His ship was on the rocks, and rescue out of reach
Spotlit he stood, said what he thought he should
Half the crowd did laugh, though there was no joke
And soon the other half were swallowed up in smoke
A robin on the wing, could be heard to sing, the strangest thing
Grandma, we are jonah
Rolling along in the teeth of a whale
Then the plane did land, for some it did not crash
From it emerged a man, in trainers and moustache
Down he laid his load, upon the heated road
Then the road did part, and the tar did melt
He loosened up his heart, he tightened up his belt
Like a piece of string, then he began to sing, like a pearly king
Grandma, we are jonah
Rolling along in the teeth of a whale
Then the scene did shift, to a sun kissed sea
There was montgomery clift, jonah, the whale and me
As the sun it set, montgomery placed his bet
Then the whale did yawn, and fell asleep in four
From dusk till dawn, you shoul have heard him snore
From tierra-del-fuego, to the alaskan snows... there she blows!
Grandma, we are jonah
Rolling along in the teeth of a whale
My dear old grandma, we are jonah
Rolling along in the teeth of a whale
Grandma
We are jonah, rolling along in the teeth of a whale
song performed by by Waterboys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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We Are Jonah
And the round old fox, stepped up to make his speech
His ship was on the rocks, and rescue out of reach
Spotlit he stood, said what he thought he should
Half the crowd did laugh, though there was no joke
And soon the other half were swallowed up in smoke
A robin on the wing, could be heard to sing, the strangest thing
Grandma, we are jonah
Rolling along in the teeth of a whale
Then the plane did land, for some it did not crash
From it emerged a man, in trainers and moustache
Down he laid his load, upon the heated road
Then the road did part, and the tar did melt
He loosened up his heart, he tightened up his belt
Like a piece of string, then he began to sing, like a pearly king
Grandma, we are jonah
Rolling along in the teeth of a whale
Then the scene did shift, to a sun kissed sea
There was montgomery clift, jonah, the whale and me
As the sun it set, montgomery placed his bet
Then the whale did yawn, and fell asleep in four
From dusk till dawn, you shoul have heard him snore
From tierra-del-fuego, to the alaskan snows... there she blows!
Grandma, we are jonah
Rolling along in the teeth of a whale
My dear old grandma, we are jonah
Rolling along in the teeth of a whale
Grandma
We are jonah, rolling along in the teeth of a whale
song performed by by Waterboys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Because I Am Here
and neither there
or either or
to infinity to infinity to infinity
and then you look on this half-darkness
half-sleep and then and then and then and then
you claim you have the hands to touch me
i am neither here not there now
i am nothing but
this air in the infinite emptiness of your infinite bowl.
i am everything i am nowhere
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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This Is Just An Exercise
this poem
is a morning poem
i write it when
the sun begins to peep
between the two hills
where my house
stands
i write it when the dews
are still alive
glistening with life
on the green leaves
on the white petals
of the flowers
i write it when the birds
start to chirp
and in flocks start
to leave the trees
where they
sleep for the
whole dark night
oh, this poem is nothing
it is just an idea
just an exercise of the mind
this morning
just to assure myself
that i am still a rational being
in touch with art
honed to the skills
of humanity
oh, this is just nothing
but a prelude
to my day
a day
when we wish
we are not thinking at all
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Snap (Fun Poem 125)
Woke up and had a shower
felt great and refreshed,
laid my clothes out
and started to get dressed.
Dragged on my trousers
and then pulled on my belt.
Snap!
I stood there with half a belt in my hand
and my trousers around my ankles.
Now I need a length of string
to hold my trousers up.
Looks like it gonna be
a new belt day today.
(7 July 2011)
poem by David Harris
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Every action is seen to fall into one of three main categories, guarding, hitting, or moving. Here, then, are the elements of combat, whether in war or pugilism.
quote by B.H. Liddell Hart
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Gyana asked
Gyana asked and I answered
What he asked he could not know
What I answered I could not know.
I know road I know building
I know upstair and Gyana
Want to fly and there is no sky.
I have sky I have loved
I have surrendered
Gyana asked and I answered.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
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Sarsparilla and Janice and You.
You walked with Janice
to Baldwin's the Herbalist
at the corner of Elephant
and Walworth Road
she wore her blue patterned dress
and red beret
and white socks
and red sandals
and in her small purse
she had money
her gran gave her
to buy sarsaparilla
in a half pint glass
and you
in your cowboy shirt
and jeans and plimsolls
with your holster
and six shooter
in the belt
around your waist
and clutching money
your mother'd given you
for doing a few chores
Gran would never let me
go on my own
Janice said
but when I said
you were going
Gran said all right
but no sweets
they rot your teeth
I like the liquorice sticks
you can buy there
you said
they make your teeth white
or so my mum said
Janice looked at your gun
in the holster
and said
you can protect me
from outlaws with your gun
sure
you replied
she smelt of lavender
and toothpaste from tins
and she moved nearer to you
and her arm touched yours
as you walked along
here we are
she said
and opened the door of Baldwin's
and you both went in
and went to the counter
and asked the man
for two half pints
of sarsaparilla
and when he poured them
and you each paid him
you stood by the window
with your glasses
and sipped
and looked
at the passing traffic
and people
you feeling like Wyatt Earp
in the saloon
and Janice looking out
as if she feared
outlaws would be coming
pretty soon.
poem by Terry Collett
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An Old Tune, An Old Song
The Far Right tear bandages
Off racial wounds
With talk about food stamps;
Like their ancestors,
They see no good in us,
Even though our people toiled
For two and half centuries
Without recompense.
They rip these bandages off
Knowing full well they resonate
With the klans.
Still we squared our shoulders
And hold our heads high
For it's an old tune,
An old song.
poem by Buxton Shippy
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Police intimidation
Today while in Springs
walking on the sidewalk
on my way to home
there was a police roadblock
put up right over the main road
just at Werda School
where you leave the shopping area
where eight armed policemen were standing
and when I got a call
from a wrong number
the one in the middle of the road
rushes to me; saying that I have taken a photograph of him
and the whole lot of them close around me,
I am even grabbed
with a hand into the back of my pants
that holds onto my belt,
I am searched
with hands being put
into my pockets
and my two cellular phones are taken
whereupon I say to them
that I have broken no law
and I am taking record of police intimidation
and a black police captain
(if military ranks are the same)
grab onto my arms holding them
and say that he is going to lock me up
and he stands so near to my face
that I am able to smell his sour breathe.
Whereupon I say to him
that I have broken no law,
that he has no grounds for arrest
and that touching me
is as good as assault
and then a white policeman
with two stars (a military lieutenant’s rank) walks nearer
and the captain let go of my arms,
some of the group gathered around me stands back
but the one at my back
is still holding on to me
with his hand on my belt
into the back of my pants
while another one
is busy going into the data
of my cellular phones
and the white one threaten
to assault me,
to hit me into a hospital
and I say to him
that surely in his eyes
it is illegal to tape
this conversation that they must let me go
as I have not broken any law.
Then he says if I again
spit him in the face while I talk
he will hit my teeth out of my mouth
and I say that the one holding me
is already assault
and that I will let them lock him up
in his own jail, if he touches me
and he says that he will not
touch me even with gloves
and that man stands so near to me
trying to intimidate, that I can smell him
and it smells as if for a whole week
he did not bath
as he is stinking of rotting sweat.
Then they want to know my name
and address from me
which I refuse
to give to them.
Then the white lieutenant says
that it is illegal
not to give my particulars
and I to him
that they do not have the right to it
as I have broken no law
as I am wondering
if the lot of them
want to come and assault me
in the middle of the night or something?
Then he says: “you that have swallowed
a whole law book, you know
that you have to give
your name and address.”
Then I say again
that I have broken no law
were just passing
and I am tacking record of police intimidation.
Then the white lieutenant says
that I do not even know what my name is
also in what street I am walking
and exactly in what town,
at what place
I am in the world.
The black policemen
stand laughing
as if it’s the joke
of all jokes
and I say that I want my cellular phones back,
that they cannot come
and steal them from me
and he threatens again to hit me.
When they can get no photograph of them
on my cellular phones
they give my cellular phones back
and the white man that they call adjutant threatens
again to assault me
and says away with you
that I must be on my way
and says record this now
and I will hit you like thunder!
Then I say that this type of thing
only happens in a police state
and that they are Gestapo
busy with police intimidation
and that I am going to publish this incident
and they laugh at me.
l’Envoi
Now I wonder as a citizen,
who pays my taxes
when and where I have a job,
what rights does the law representatives claim
to themselves
and how good, are they at their jobs?
The two cars that had being stolen from me
have after three years
not been found back
and this lot is fast
to stand and threaten with assault
and I scoff at them and know my rights,
but three thousand farmers have been killed
and where are their killers?
Surely walking around freely?
Surely one can only expect an incident like this
in the new South Africa
where things are only going
from bad to worse.
[This incident happened on Saturday 11 December 2010 at 09h15.]
poem by Gert Strydom
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One for Ramana
The thunder asked
what is lightning?
The root asked
why is a flower?
The pupil asked
who is the teacher?
The space asked
where is everyone?
The circle asked
when is the end?
The stillness asked
whence word?
poem by Michael Shepherd
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