The talking animal's
As I become, a fictitious narrative.
Creating a fable story, about a dog, cat and a mice.
The dog name Bog, the cat name Spat, and the mice is Spice.
Bog said to Spat, why are you chasing Spice?
Spat said, because, I want some of that rodent slice's.
So, you want to cut him into piece's.
I am hungry, Bog! Spice come to me, I protect you?
Okay Bog, I hope you really, going to protect me.
Spat get back, please! I don't want to hurt you?
So you think im a cat; I can't beat you?
We going to find out, Spat the big alley cat.
Bog the little mutt; you a bluff Bog.
Spat, end up, chasing the both of them.
poem by Derrick Clark
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
Styles Of Beggary 3
Bundled pregnancy with pregnant beggary
Foretold aunty's future
Over a hillocked fortune
Of turmeric, sindhur, flowers
Incense, perfume, bath-soap
Cash, jewellery, rice and pulses
Hillocky on a kanjeevaram silk brocade..
Aunty spat three times..
Ten minutes-meditation
Closed eyes, no turning back....
Temple evening spat back
on lady-beggary
Aunty's blood-pressure heightened
Chasing the fleeing with shaken coins
poem by Indira Renganathan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Valentine Lines
His name is Drack Valentine
DNA design more crude than fine
This fella from vagina spat
A strange bloodline
With a spank on the ass he was sent
out into this land
Being a constant little shit
often meeting a solid backhand
At the tender age of seven
At school he did learn
The wonders of heaven
And the fires he would burn
He's a man now you see
All grown up and tall
He has a little daughter
She once like him very small
Putting up with the peoples preaching
And teachers teaching
This she will do
Doing what her father once had to do
Her name is Scarlett Valentine
This girl of mine
from her mothers vagina spat
A even stranger bloodline
poem by Drack Valentine
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Doschitay Do Sta
On skazal:"Ya ustal."
I ego ne vernut'.
Ty schitaesh do sta,
Ty mechtaesh usnut'.
Ty schitaesh do sta
Sto sluchaynykh imen,
A tebe nado spat' I ne dumat' o nem,
A tebe nado spat' I ne dumat' o nem,
A tebe nado spat' I ne dumat' o nem.
Tvoya lodka pusta
U chuzhikh beregov.
Ty shcitaesh do sta.
Sta russvetnykh snegov.
Eta tema prosta,
Ty zhe znuesh kak byt'.
Nado prosto do sta doschitat' I zabyt',
Nado prosto do sta doschitat' I zabyt',
Nado prosto do sta doschitat' I zabyt',
NA-VSE-GDA
Doschitay, doschitay, doschitay do sta,
Doschitay, doschitay, doschitay do sta,
Doschitay, doschitay, doschitay do sta,
Doschitay, doschitay, doschitay do sta.
4 5 6 7 8...
Sta bessonykh nochey
V labirintakh lyubvi.
Sta sluchainykh klyuchey,
A v itoge nuli.
Sta druzey, sta vragov.
Sto rastayavshikh l'din.
Zabyvai pro nego, 101, 101.
Zabyvai pro nego, zabyvay navsegda,
Zabyvai pro nego, zabyvay navsegda,
NA-VSE-GDA
Doschitay, doschitay, doschitay do sta,
Doschitay, doschitay, doschitay do sta,
Doschitay, doschitay, doschitay do sta,
Doschitay, doschitay, doschitay do sta.
59, 60, 61, 62...
Doschitay, doschitay, doschitay do sta,
Doschitay, doschitay, doschitay do sta,
Doschitay, doschitay, doschitay do sta,
Doschitay, doschitay, doschitay do sta.
Doschitay, Doschitay.
song performed by by Tatu
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Doschitai Do Sta
On skazal:ya ustal.
I ego ne vernut.
Ty schitaesh do sta,
Ty mechtaesh usnut.
Ty schitaesh do sta
Sto sluchaynykh imen,
A tebe nado spat I ne dumat o nem,
A tebe nado spat I ne dumat o nem,
A tebe nado spat I ne dumat o nem.
Tvoya lodka pusta
U chuzhikh beregov.
Ty shcitaesh do sta.
Sta russvetnykh snegov.
Eta tema prosta,
Ty zhe znuesh kak byt.
Nado prosto do sta doschitat I zabyt,
Nado prosto do sta doschitat I zabyt,
Nado prosto do sta doschitat I zabyt,
Na-vse-gda
Doschitay, doschitay, doschitay do sta,
Doschitay, doschitay, doschitay do sta,
Doschitay, doschitay, doschitay do sta,
Doschitay, doschitay, doschitay do sta.
4 5 6 7 8...
Sta bessonykh nochey
V labirintakh lyubvi.
Sta sluchainykh klyuchey,
A v itoge nuli.
Sta druzey, sta vragov.
Sto rastayavshikh ldin.
Zabyvai pro nego, 101, 101.
Zabyvai pro nego, zabyvay navsegda,
Zabyvai pro nego, zabyvay navsegda,
Na-vse-gda
Doschitay, doschitay, doschitay do sta,
Doschitay, doschitay, doschitay do sta,
Doschitay, doschitay, doschitay do sta,
Doschitay, doschitay, doschitay do sta.
59, 60, 61, 62...
Doschitay, doschitay, doschitay do sta,
Doschitay, doschitay, doschitay do sta,
Doschitay, doschitay, doschitay do sta,
Doschitay, doschitay, doschitay do sta.
Doschitay, doschitay
song performed by by Tatu
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Not Up For That Today
Not up for that today,
No.
Not up for that,
To quarrel and spat
Over traps we set...
To get upset about that now.
Not up for that today,
No.
Not up to discuss how life could have been.
What we've should have done.
Or who committed what sins when.
Not up for that today,
No.
You see that tree budding leaves?
You see that flower blooming with beauty?
You hear the few bees left buzzing?
The birds chirping?
With Spring appearing to bring fresh air?
That's what I am up for this morning.
Not into sharing your agonies,
Dripping to dropp you into despair.
For a round of recurring arguments to share.
No!
Not up for that today,
No.
Not up for that,
To quarrel and spat
Over traps we set...
To get upset about that now.
But take all the time you must...
To agitate yourself,
If that gives you a rush!
I am not up for that to witness,
Not today,
No!
I have a date with life,
I am going to keep!
And you are too late for me to wait,
With your repeated sighs of self defeat.
No...
Not today!
I have a date with life,
I am going to keep!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A Piece of This
A son trying to help his mother who’s 83 in to the tub to bathe hears words that cut him to his very soul, “You must want a piece of this.” Now, as he hold back his hurt and wipe the spit of his face that his mother had spat on him thoughts begin to race through his mind. How could the woman who gave birth to me think that I would want to do that to her? She comforted me when I was afraid at night. She fed me when I hungry. Yes she was the first woman I loved just like any son would love his mother. But no I have no Oedipus complex. So no I don’t want a piece of that. Wow, this woman is the Grandmother to my son I wonder if I was not here and he was would she say to him “You must want a piece of this.” I know Alzheimer has taken over her mind and she is not the loving mother I once knew but it stills hurts to hear her say, “You must want a piece of this.”
Tako Zaspan
Jaz sem tako zaspan ...
bolj zaspan kot moker vulkan
bolj zaspan kot mrzel katran
C'e bi me pekli na raz'nju se mi ne bi dalo dret
c'e bi me slac'li iz koz'e se mi ne bi dalo umret
c'e bi padel z aviona ne bi mogel letel
c'e bi me moc'no segreli se ni be hotel vnet
Jaz sem ...
C'e bi me bolel zob bi zaspal od bolec'ine
c'e bi me polili s kropom bi zaspal od vroc'ine
vedno ko mi je muka zaspim dokler ne mine
jaz bi rajs'i spal kot zobal rozine
Jaz sem ...
Niti inekcija kofeina mi ne more nic' naredit
rajs'i riskiram eno uko kot da bi se dal budit
ko zjutraj ura zvoni slis'im angele v glavi
ko potekajo spopadi spim v naravi
Jaz sem tako zaspan ...
bolj kot zariban kamion bolj kot zadavljen puran
Kdor spi zlo ne misli kdor je buden naj gre spat
ne spat za volanom c'e z'e spis' pa ne divjat
Jaz sem
song performed by by Zmelkoow
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
In Adversity Comes The Cure
cheated mistreated spat on
in adversity comes the cure
purified into birth starlight
poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Redeem, Or Condemn?
the young man
whose face you beat in
for standing up to protest
against your oppression...
just spat blood on the floors
of your halls of justice...
His name is Jesus...
will His blood redeem you,
or condemn you?
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Sugar And Spice And Fourteen Blind Mice
Sugar and Spice and fourteen blind mice
sat in a room way up in the barn.
the name of the cat was Sugar and Spice
fourteen blind mice, they were spinning a yarn.
As you can picture, the odds were unfair,
though none of the mice had been overly wise
a mad starving hunter to sit there and stare
planning the strategy of a surprise.
How can a cat catch so many at once?
Only with claws and a growling old gut
cats do not utilise swords, spears and guns
this one just sat on her soft furry butt.
The night was soon over and all things were the same
all the mice had been snoozing, unaware of the foe
in the cold of the morning now the cat sought to aim
its formidable powers like a young feline pro.
But a god now took mercy and he told all the mice
that united you stand and divided you fall,
so they jumped on the cat, and they squeezed like a vise
and the end of the frenzy wasn't pretty at all.
poem by Herbert Nehrlich
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Free Trader's Lament
Oft from a trading-boat I purchased spice
And shells and corals, brought for my inspection
From the fair tropics-paid a Christian price
And was content in my fool's paradise,
Where never had been heard the word 'Protection.'
'T was my sole island; there I dwelt alone
No customs-house, collector nor collection,
But a man came, who, in a pious tone
Condoled with me that I had never known
The manifest advantage of Protection.
So, when the trading-boat arrived one day,
He threw a stink-pot into its mid-section.
The traders paddled for their lives away,
Nor came again into that haunted bay,
The blessed home thereafter of Protection.
Then down he sat, that philanthropic man,
And spat upon some mud of his selection,
And worked it, with his knuckles in a pan,
To shapes of shells and coral things, and span
A thread of song in glory of Protection.
He baked them in the sun. His air devout
Enchanted me. I made a genuflexion:
'God help you, gentle sir,' I said. 'No doubt,'
He answered gravely, 'I'll get on without
Assistance now that we have got Protection.'
Thenceforth I bought his wares-at what a price
For shells and corals of such imperfection!
'Ah, now,' said he, 'your lot is truly nice.'
But still in all that isle there was no spice
To season to my taste that dish, Protection.
poem by Ambrose Bierce
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
For the Sake of Being Clever
Here to energize and motivate.
Not to attempt to make a quick escape.
For the sake of being clever.
Too many are using this medium for that.
If Shakespeare did it...
He wouldn't be popular to use by copycats.
Who today consider him great!
But in his day....
Upon him some spat.
That's what people do...
When a truth is pursued.
And someone dares to rub against...
Those who are offended,
As they sit comfortably on a hidden fence.
To later jump on a bandwagon...
As if to convince they too have been there,
To protect and defend without pretense of intentions.
Only then to gather as much attention that can be mentioned.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
There once was a man from Hong Kong
Who spoke in a very strange tongue;
He was no use at all
'Til he spat out the ball
That he'd swallowed while playing Ping-Pong.
quote by by John Carter Brown (September 2012)
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
She'd Not Seen.
Tanya had not seen
the thing from that
angle, she'd only seen
it from her own narrow
gauge of looking, and
of course there was
the blindness, caused
by hate, and he had
after all gone off with
that skinny tart, and
after all the effort she'd
taken to loose weight,
and oh yes, he had gone
and taken her favourite
dress the red one she'd
out grown, and the one
she'd once much favoured,
although she'd only worn
it the once, and now that
thin bean of a girl had it
on, oh how could he, she
spat out, while lounging
in the bath, the there water
almost to the rim, and she
there looking at her pink
plumpness, and how her
tits could almost swim, oh
come back, do not leave me
here, she moaned although
there was none to hear her,
except the guy in the flat next
door, but he was kind of queer,
oh where is love when you need
it? and where is some god to protect?
Oh, she said, all my plans are wrecked.
poem by Terry Collett
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
What You Want
I don't know what you want.
I'll keep going till I can't give anymore of my desperate clout.
I'll keep on pushing through this endless spat.
Of this difficulty I'll maintain my stance.
I'll try so hard to win this dance.
You seem so far.
Your distant demeanor truly scars.
What is it you really want?
Is it heartache?
Sincerly not. I don't think you even know.
My eternal patience thin does grow.
You say you want a man who's sweet.
Here I am, and you retreat.
You say you don't desire,
one who's wicked anger,
burns like fire.
Yet that's the man you end up with.
Feeling hurt and angered by his cutting wit.
You want someone who will treat you good.
Then you choose a bastard lewd.
Those other ones are so crude.
Look at me you know it's true.
Where will you get chasing these?
It's no good telling them your pleas.
With this you'll only find disease.
What you want I cannot tell.
I'll keep on trudging through this rotten hell.
Probing for what you will not tell.
One day soon I think you'll see.
What you want is in great need.
So come and get it if you please.
I'm right here asking on my knees.
I'm all you want, all you need.
So just reach out and you'll be free.
poem by Michael McParland
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
We've had drive-by shootings. I've been spat on, slapped, shot at. One guy tried to stab me with a broken beer bottle. But the way we look at it, if people do the worst they can, we'll still wake up in glory.
quote by Troy Perry
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
A Little Lost Peace
There's an argument a brewin'.
There's a spat that is a stewin'.
Here it comes. I feel it.
It's like a tempest that blew in
and rocked a peaceful day.
And the saddest thing about it
no matter come what may.
I can't make it go away.
poem by Edwina Reizer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
No Obituaries
Hot words spat in anger.
Things he wished not said,
But genie like out the bottle.
Nipped from the heart.
It lay there between them
This last murdered piece of love.
To late for resuscitation
It lies dead and cold.
No obituaries needed.
P H Brookes Copyright 2011
poem by Paul Brookes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Baltimore.
Baltimore.
Met him there,
beefcake type,
more hard brawn
than soft brain.
Yet there was
that aspect
of him that
haunted at
nights after
he went back
home to his
wife and his
other life.
Opened up,
and spat out,
chewed upon,
left alone,
far too much,
all too long.
poem by Terry Collett
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Dog And The Cat
The dog and the cat,
Had a little spat.
The cat clawed the dog,
And the dog squealed like a...pig.
The dog bit the cat,
Who was ugly and fat.
And the cat screamed away,
In the middle of the... afternoon.
Then the dog chased the cat,
Up a tree where he sat.
Growling down at the dog,
Who licked his chops on a...stump.
for those that don't get it-hog, day, log.
12/23/10 Alton Texas
poem by Juan Olivarez
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!