The Gnat Nebulae
Full pummelling fisticuffs
Stitch over stitch
In and out
Imperceptibly kaleidoscopic
Swirling from ear to ear
Sporadic
Thrumming mystical notes
Notes of whisper
Whisper in the ear
Now a bothered swish of clawing
Cleaving slipping fingers
Immalleable rolling universal ball
Microcosmic needle into
Macrocosmic wool all
Silently thudding kneading pulling
Sealing a sin all opened unforgiven
Eternally whispering to a few
And never really heard
Pummelling sewing the invisible centre
Round and round the darkless sun
Only the end that began
Only a scratch and a bother
What bother to scratch
For scratching bothers
Bothers a scratch
Scratch and not to bother
Scratch Scratch Scratch
Dedicated to J.C. Alldridge
(©: T. Wignesan - Paris,1957; from T. Wignesan. Tracks of a Tramp. Kuala Lumpur-Singapore: 1961; first pub. in 'Forum Academicum', University of Heidelberg,1957)
poem by T. Wignesan
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Related quotes
The Death of the Hindu
Chin cupped
on the ancient bone
of his elbow
he spread five fingers to the world:
and like a cat on zither strings
the hoarse voice of his fathers
issues from his forgotten children:
now he picks one tick
from the back of that suckling cow:
his failing fingers
find not the strength to crush
Not a single eyelash twitters
pass him by
pass him
'Wake not a man asleep
And tell him he has
Nothing to eat.'
(©: T. Wignesan - Paris,1957; from T. Wignesan. Tracks of a Tramp. Kuala Lumpur-Singapore: 1961; first pub. in 'Forum Academicum', University of Heidelberg,1957)
poem by T. Wignesan
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Coal-Truck
I am a coal-truck
Carrying gold dust.
Someone threw some
Coal-dust upon
My gold-dust.
I am a coal-truck
In a gold mine.
Someone struck a coal vein
And piled me full in vain.
I am a coal-truck
Covered in subterranean dust.
Someone shovelled my soil
And found an ancient bone
All coiled.
I am a coal-truck
Waiting for the rain.
The sun is my rail
The night my shed.
I am a coal-truck
Rumbling all the way.
Wash me in the rain-storm
And fill me full of coke
Until I choke.
(©: T. Wignesan,1957 - Pub. in 'Forum Academicum', Heidelberg University,1957; from the collection: Tracks of a Tramp. Kuala Lumpur-Singapore: 1961)
poem by T. Wignesan
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Unheeded in the spread of his name, quaking
Unheeded in the spread of his name, quaking
Through the knit brow cuddling the sombre eye
Twice buckled into the couch of his yearning
The mouldy cast of unsculptured hands, moulting
In the surging sweaty cries' unexpected sigh
Sooner lost than won with unrenewed longing
Every day, every night in chastened haste, calling
That one face, one hand trembling on bosomy thigh
Through all the twigs of his knotty brooding
Mighty log in the dismembered chips, raking
In uneasy orgasms of a protracted lie
The woman clasped in the memory revolting
Fleshy hair to press, hovering nostrils, drinking
In the incensing vapours, and that face a wry
Screaming in the rubbing spasm, a bloody cursing
All, all and more, and the biting shame, clawing
Now at the name, silently growing, that shy
Child of old hopefully shared and lingered moaning
(© T. Wignesan,1957; first pub. in 'Forum Academicum', University of Heidelberg,1957; from the collection: T. Wignesan. Tracks of a Tramp. Kuala Lumpur-Singapore: 1961)
poem by T. Wignesan
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Itch and Scratch
You’re just like an itch
that keeps coming back.
Every time I itch
I have to scratch, scratch, scratch.
Just like a train
on a railroad track
You go away today
and tomorrow come back.
Try taking an aeroplane
instead of a car,
then hop on a rocket
to a distant star.
You’re just like an itch
that keeps coming back.
Every time I itch
I have to scratch, scratch, scratch.
And just like an itch
you’ve got under my skin,
this is a situation
that I just can’t win.
Please give me a break
and get off my back.
Get out of here
and don’t come back.
You’re just like an itch
that keeps coming back.
Every time I itch
I have to scratch, scratch, scratch.
poem by Orlando Belo
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Scratch My Back
(words & music by giant - baum - kaye)
One good turn deserves another
Be my love, Ill be your lover
Its all part of natures laws
If youll scratch my back then Ill scratch yours.
If youll scratch my back then Ill scratch your back
Like two peas in a pack, lets get rid of our itch together, hmm
Joy they say is in the giving
Come on give, make life worth living
Your welfare is my concern
Do a favour for me, Ill do one in return
If youll scratch my back then Ill scratch your back
Like two peas in a pack, lets get rid of our itch together, hmm
Scratch me now a little lower
What a feeling do it slower
Thats it, hmm youre getting hot
Well I gotta admit, you just hit the spot
If youll scratch my back then Ill scratch your back
Like two peas in a pack, lets get rid of our itch together, hmm
If youll scratch my back then Ill scratch your back
song performed by by Elvis Presley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Mutual Itch One Lonely Night
this mutual each we have
one lonely night
when the moon sails in the
black sky
and the stars are too near
like lilies to the sailboat
on the placid lake,
i scratch my itch
you scratch yours
but what about our backs
those parts that i cannot reach
and you cannot reach
too
we follow the natural law
i'll scratch your back
and you scratch mine
no more no less
we are just
but friends,
tonight
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Snake Charmer and the Hamadryad
Piccolo and been-throated pibroch
Dilating dimpled hood
Spreading photometric darkroom eyes
Waxing waxing matching
Venomous lip to music's piping lip
O Queen of stung dragon-mouthed Po
Dancing girl of nuanceless ancient reliefs
The apotheosis Brahman curling on the neck
Must you now sink sink
Dread watched
Spineless
Into the winding womb wickerwork
Watching watching pipe-eyed watching
Until you slip
Over the sill of the pipe and the lip
Anathema!
Amorphous piteous anathema!
Amulet of Siva!
Licking the boneless air companionless
Then slithering to lie on the trodden path
Must you have this one last lick
A lick that
Stills the
Unheeding
Child astray
Or ripple tailless
In the reedy gust
To the squat charmer's
Hypnotical pibroch
(©: T. Wignesan - Paris,1957; from T. Wignesan. Tracks of a Tramp. Kuala Lumpur-Singapore: 1961; first pub. in 'Forum Academicum', University of Heidelberg,1957)
poem by T. Wignesan
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I Scratch Therefore I Am
i scratch therefore
i am
a cat.....
(a tomcat
or a tiger on the loose of a safari in your mind)
you itch therefore
you are
a dog....(or a bitch
or a fungus in the
anus)
you itch and i scratch
therefore
we exist,
therefore
we are.
animates, needing something to thrive upon,
we evolve and get complicated, we revolve around something
and get a little
sophisticated,
we scratch some more, we itch some more,
no longer cats, or tigers, or dogs or bitches, we go beyond
these animated needs,
we somehow say
we need love this time...
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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I saw a tree a-falling...
I saw a tree a-falling
a-falling down on me
I had no way to turn
it was close on me
I thought it was a plot
to force me out
I knew I could not
even hold it or shout
It was a tree I sheltered
on many a longing day
And now it was so altered
coming to make me pay
I asked it why it longed
to touch its upmost brim
When all around no foe
turned the sun down dim
I touched its bark to hear
I thought I heard a cry
Two leaves it shed on me
and brushed its bark up high
I asked it why it stood
alone and left to brood
It shook its sticks in emphasis
as if to say it was good
(©: T. Wignesan - Kuala Lumpur,1957, from Tracks of a Tramp. Kuala Lumpur-Singapore: Rayirath Publications,1961.)
poem by T. Wignesan
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Dogs In The House
since we love the dogs
who sleep with us
now we must feast
with all the fleas
we feel the rhythm
of their barks
we mark our lives
with dog ears
we master the art of
stand and sit and roll
and get that ball!
now scratch my back
as i scratch yours.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Pack
A bit of metaphysics or a psychologic catch
Will sit upon my breast all day and scratch and scratch and
scratch. Now isn't it a pity that the ragged thorns of culture Should be tearing at my vitals, as Prometheus's the vulture?
I really have no liking for abstruse and subtle question.
I prefer to laugh in sunshine and to cherish my digestion.
But a pack of eager queries, barking, barking, hound me on,
Until I find an hour of life's pure delight is gone.
poem by Gamaliel Bradford
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Scratch The Surface
Scratch the surface serve a purpose
scratch the surface don't waste my time
Such empty life Such simple sheep night after night
herd to the creeps all hidden faults beauty is null
such shallow sight barely skin deep
What is the force that drives the superficial
tell me what keeps their minds remaining little
so afraid of what they'd see underneath the fantasy
so afraid to actually scratch the surface.
All mirrors hide Big money lies faillure inside
big lying eyes that's maybe why eyes are the soul
they take so much time big dollar signs
song performed by by Sick Of It All from Scratch The Surface
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Columind
What do you think you did here kid?
You're living like some rich kid bitch?
The scratch that make you flinch
Tha scratch that you can't itch
What do you think you got done here man?
You're putting on a show
What do you think you got done here kid?
Did you reach your killing goal?
Shame
song performed by by Filter from The Amalgamut
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Paths in the Private Country
The memory in need
Is the implacable enemy of the creed,
Waits and watches its foe
The all-clawing frenzy on tip-toe;
Quiescent in the instant's repose
The thud of flurried gnawing years evoke.
The poet in his solitary moments, spoke
Those whispered words, memory's secret ear yoke.
His wares, his scares, ailments and balms
Suddenly at the oasis of his thirst, awoke
Transilluminating the hard wad of his private notes,
Clutching at the infant's murmurous innocence
The clear innocuous dogma of cries;
While his immodestly preened notes of travesty
Hark back; and the first poem playfully struck
Teaches him now too late the laugh, the critic's qualms.
Just as the poet had wandered away from childhood,
So will the child thwart the unspoilt man
And shyly, shyly he turns away from the poet
Coming in like a stray camp-follower to brood.
For who may ask which the supreme poet
The child's sweet ineffable musings disrespect
While language etherises meanings proudly sown:
The title in two is halved - one the art, one, lone.
And the man, memory's ill-begotten infant
Lurking round the corner, pranks the urgent moment
Or two - then restores the poet to the poem.
(© T. Wignesan,1957 - First pub. in 'Diskus', University of Frankfurt-am-Main,1960; from the collection: T. Wignesan. Tracks of a Tramp. Kuala Lumpur-Singapore: 1961)
poem by T. Wignesan
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Raw
Ive been running round town for a new identiy
Ive been dreaming hot dreams of insecurity
Ive been chasing my heart through the streets of my mind
Ive been clinging to the bed the sweat is turning me blind
Well Im plugged all the holes and sealing all the cracks
Im like a galvanised nerve I just cant seem to relax
Shes got fire on her breath and chilli on her lips
Teeth around her neck and shes got jazz on her hips
Theres a flash in my brain like a shot from above
Its a strange idea of love
Like a wolf at the door
Like a scratch of a claw
She says come on baby I want it raw
A wolf at the door
A scratch of a claw
I want it raw
Well Im driving out of town Im on the verge of a storm
Im sucking my st. christopher and trying to keep calm
A mambo mamma on the back of my heels
And this incantation can trap my wheels
Theres a heat in my car theres a fog on my screen
Ive never felt so scared never dreamt such a dream
Theres a man on the corner preaching fire above
Its a strange idea of love
Like a wolf at the door
Like a scratch of a claw
She says come on baby I want it raw!
A wolf at the door
A scratch of a claw
I want it raw!
song performed by by Spandau Ballet
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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King Kut
(section 3)
Play it and scratch it
Play it and scratch it
King kut, u know u wanna slice
Scratch is so nice u gotta hear it twice
King kut, and its good to go
Scratchin to the beat in stereo
Dj cheese (and a little bit sore? )
Scratch up the beat and go off, go off
Im not original, Im predictable
And when I mc Im powerful
In my own way I rock the mic
I got a style of my own,
Never have to fight
Cos I can rock any record
If u just let us
Me go off, I can do it better with
Jazz, solo, rock-and-roller
Scratchin to the set or on a big solo
Cos I announce the time,
When it comes to rhyming (sing)
Lyrics like this, Im a scientist
And if u want proof that we got juice,
Just check out the rhymes that we produce
Were gonna take our talent to the extreme
Destroy this place like a mad machine
Cos were live, wise, organised
Three in a place youll recognise
song performed by by Prodigy
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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