Future Legend
And in the death
As the last few corpses lay rotting on the slimy thoroughfare
The shutters lifted in inches in temperance building
High on poachers hill
And red mutant eyes gaze down on hunger city
No more big wheels
Fleas the size of rats sucked on rats the size of cats
And ten thousand peoploids split into small tribes
Coveting the highest of the sterile skyscrapers
Like packs of dogs assaulting the glass fronts of love-me avenue
Ripping and rewrapping mink and shiny silver fox, now legwarmers
Family badge of sapphire and cracked emerald
Any day now
The year of the diamond dogs
song performed by by David Bowie

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
Diamond Dogs
This aint rocknroll. this is genocide!
As they pulled you out of the oxygen tent
You asked for the latest party
With your silicone hump and your ten inch stump
Dressed like a priest you was
Tod brownings freak you was
Crawling down the alley on your hands and knee
Im sure youre not protected, for its plain to see
The diamond dogs are poachers and they hide behind trees
Hunt you to the ground they will, mannequins with kill appeal
(will they come? )
Ill keep a friend serene
(will they come? )
Oh baby, come unto me
(will they come? )
Well, shes come, been and gone.
Come out of the garden, baby
Youll catch your death in the fog
Young girl, they call them the diamond dogs
Young girl, they call them the diamond dogs
The halloween jack is a real cool cat
And he lives on top of manhattan chase
The elevators broke, so he slides down a rope
Onto the street below, oh tarzie, go man go
Meet his little hussy with his ghost town approach
Her face is sans feature, but she wears a dali brooch
Sweetly reminiscent, something mother used to bake
Wrecked up and paralyzed, diamond dogs are sableized
(will they come? )
Ill keep a friend serene
(will they come? )
Oh baby, come unto me
(will they come? )
Well, shes come, been and gone.
Come out of the garden, baby
Youll catch your death in the fog
Young girl, they call them the diamond dogs
Young girl, they call them the diamond dogs
Oo-oo-ooh, call them the diamond dogs
Oo-oo-ooh, call them the diamond dogs
In the year of the scavenger, the season of the bitch
Sashay on the boardwalk, scurry to the ditch
Just another future song, lonely little kitsch
(theres gonna be sorrow) try and wake up tomorrow
(will they come? )
Ill keep a friend serene
(will they come? )
Oh baby, come unto me
(will they come? )
Well, shes come, been and gone.
Come out of the garden, baby
Youll catch your death in the fog
Young girl, they call them the diamond dogs
Young girl, they call them the diamond dogs
Oo-oo-ooh, call them the diamond dogs
Oo-oo-ooh, call them the diamond dogs
Bow-wow, woof woof, bow-wow, wow
Call them the diamond dogs
Dogs
Call them the diamond dogs, call them, call them
Call them the diamond dogs, call them, call them, ooo
Call them the diamond dogs
Keep cool
Diamond dogs rule, ok
Hey-hey-hey-hey
Beware of the diamond dogs
Beware of the diamond dogs
Beware of the diamond dogs
Beware of the diamond dogs
Beware of the diamond dogs
song performed by by David Bowie

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Admit The Rat (Interlude)
I got a story
bout all these rats
all the sewer rats
all these gun rats
im talkin bout all these gold diggen rats
these hood rats
my grandmothers a rat
she's just an old school rat
my mothers a rat
she's just a high class rat
my sisters rats
she's just a middle class rat
my cousins rats
they just low class rats
im tired of rats tryin to get into my boyz pockets
im tired of rats tryin to ride around in my cars
im tired of rats talkin all that jibber jabber to their friends
but ond day these rats are gonna be straight
no diss to rats
cuz there are some rats that i love too
my message to you today is admit the rat in you
to all women admitt the rat in you
admit the rat in you
admit the rat in you
admit the rat in you
song performed by by Next

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Night Runners Competition Counted
we enjoy counting the rats
running around at night,
when we are arriving home
on our faithful motorbike,
usually two or three rats to see,
Kayla and I have a competition
counting first spied rats we see,
who can spot local drain rats first
the biggest rats seen truthfully
are as big as healthy pet cats,
we go look at pets frequently
in BSD once a week we peep,
in at a pet shop when we watch,
a movie in expedition BSD every week
a family movie is a special treat,
our two happy daughters think it so neat
our neigbour concreted over their open drain
next door rats love their drains seldom stray,
so less rats outside rats too close we do disdain
rats who venture close in life peril cannot stay,
if any bold rats venture into our house ceiling,
these rats are disposed of poisoned very quickly
our rule is no entry for any rats poison strictly,
tropical rat best learn trespass has no pity feeling.
poem by Terence George Craddock

Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Admit The Rat
I got a story
Bout all these rats
All the sewer rats
All these gun rats
Im talkin bout all these gold diggen rats
These hood rats
My grandmothers a rat
Shes just an old school rat
My mothers a rat
Shes just a high class rat
My sisters rats
Shes just a middle class rat
My cousins rats
They just low class rats
Im tired of rats tryin to get into my boyz pockets
Im tired of rats tryin to ride around in my cars
Im tired of rats talkin all that jibber jabber to their friends
But ond day these rats are gonna be straight
No diss to rats
Cuz there are some rats that I love too
My message to you today is admit the rat in you
To all women admitt the rat in you
Admit the rat in you
Admit the rat in you
Admit the rat in you
song performed by by Next

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Rats (Life Poem)
Stepping through the building site of El Rancho,
The faded glory of the best hotel in Haiti once.
I think of “Old Times” when this was Paradise,
And a Rolls Royce collected you at the airport.
A seedy casino, neglect, an earthquake later,
Rats the size of cats show you to your room,
And “home from home” this is definitely not,
Everything turns to dust in the end, it seems.
Even us.
poem by Ian Beckett

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Trailer Park Child
trailer park child;
his brothers and sisters,
stray dogs and cats...
his momma a crack pipe,
his daddy an old truck
up on blocks...
eating old cereal
from the box with the rats...
but he can read....
eviction notices, Bible verses,
and the warning labels
on cigarette packs...
the dirty prodigal son,
no name, just 'boy! '
empty gasoline cans...
a dead skunk in the road!
poem by Eric Cockrell

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Slave To The Wage
Run away from all your boredom
Run away from all your whoredom and wave
Your worries and cares
Goodbye
All it takes is one decision
A lot of guts, a little vision to wave
Your worries and cares
Goodbye
Its a maze for rats to try
Its a maze for rats to try
Its a race, a race for rats
A race for rats to die
Its a race, a race for rats
A race for rats to die
Sick and tired of maggies farm
Shes a bitch with broken arms to wave
Your worries and cares
Goodbye
Its a maze for rats to try
Its a maze for rats to try
Its a race, a race for rats
A race for rats to die
Its a race, a race for rats
A race for rats to die
Its a race, a race for rats
A race for rats to die
Its a race, a race for rats
A race for rats to die
Burn away
Run away, run away
Run away, run away
Run away, run away
Run away, run away
song performed by by Placebo

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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God is not Alone
God is not alone
Loneliness is not his attribute
Perhaps
Solitude until he created man & woman
cats and dogs, snakes and rats,
fire and water.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

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The Rainwalkers
An old man whose black face
shines golden-brown as wet pebbles
under the streetlamp, is walking two mongrel dogs of dis-
proportionate size, in the rain,
in the relaxed early-evening avenue.
The small sleek one wants to stop,
docile to the imploring soul of the trashbasket,
but the young tall curly one
wants to walk on; the glistening sidewalkentices him to arcane happenings.
Increasing rain. The old bareheaded man
smiles and grumbles to himself.
The lights change: the avenue's
endless nave echoes notes of
liturgical red. He drifts
between his dogs' desires.
The three of them are enveloped -
turning now to go crosstown - in their
sense of each other, of pleasure,
of weather, of corners,
of leisurely tensions between them
and private silence.
poem by Denise Levertov

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SQUATTERS (Slum-Dwellers)
We cleaned the Dorm this morning
and found the dead rat
The Matron said it stank
and must be thrown out.
I suggested a good grave
but she said,
"Throw it into the garbage."
I pity the innocent rat
helpless at the dreadful
claws of the cat.
So we argued.
She said, "Rats are dreadful!
and cats are the protectors! "
She complained about her loss
Mentioned about the her torn,
Tattered rags and cartoons.
She said, "Rats must be exterminated
That the City of man gets rid
Of the ugly and grotesque! "
But I said,
"They need their right home
and if dead, they need
the right grave."
I see no longer the native rats
because of the wild cats
No more torn, tattered rags,
papers and cartoons.
And the wild cats rejoice
over the order and new wonders
for which the Matron -
the recipient of congratulations.
"Rats must not contaminate
the City of Man, "
the Matron said.
And she added,
"They are eyesores
They smell and stink
so throw them
into the garbage."
__________________
poem by Elizabeth Padillo Olesen

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The Year Of The Rat
A Chinese friend informed me that
This is the astrological year of the rat
Though an animal lover I’ve always been
A year full of rats will cause me chagrin
A pup or a kitten would be more to my taste
Their barks and their mews I’d more easily face
With our two legged rats we seem to prefer
We’ve vermin enough, I think you’ll concur
If we skip over this rat laden calendar year
I don’t believe it would cause too many a tear
But tearful or not, I think we should heed it
That a year full of rats is really not needed
poem by Stanley Cooper

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Overture -- Cotton Avenue
A red sun came rolling down a grey sky
And the frogs and dogs and night birds then
Started up singing sweet country lullaby
You see that patch of city lights-
Somewhere in there's Cotton Avenue-
That's where I'm going to take myself tonight
With a spit shine on my dancing shoes
If you got a place like that to go
You just have to go there
If you got no place special
Well then, you just go no place special
I guess it's just the summer in the young blood
Ripe and juicy in the young blood
Teasing to go down to ...
Cotton Avenue
To hear the shiny shiny music
See all the shiny people dancing to it
Anytime you go to ...
Cotton Avenue
If you got a place like that to go
You know you got to go there
If you got no place special
Well then, you just go no place special
You see that summer storm brewing in the southern sky
By the time it hits here I'll be dancing high and dry
To rhythm and blues
On Cotton Avenue
Poor boys'll be hanging around outside in the street
They got all the latest words
They're dancing to the latest beat
While they're hustling and sizing you
On Cotton Avenue
If you got a place like that to go
You just have to go there
If you've got no place special
Well my dear
You just so no place ... special
song performed by by Joni Mitchell

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Stella's Birthday March 13, 1719
Stella this day is thirty-four,
(We shan't dispute a year or more:)
However, Stella, be not troubled,
Although thy size and years are doubled,
Since first I saw thee at sixteen,
The brightest virgin on the green;
So little is thy form declin'd;
Made up so largely in thy mind.
Oh, would it please the gods to split
Thy beauty, size, and years, and wit;
No age could furnish out a pair
Of nymphs so graceful, wise, and fair;
With half the lustre of your eyes,
With half your wit, your years, and size.
And then, before it grew too late,
How should I beg of gentle Fate,
(That either nymph might have her swain,)
To split my worship too in twain.
poem by Jonathan Swift

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On Stella's Birth-Day, 1719
Stella this Day is thirty four,
(We shan't dispute a Year or more)
However Stella, be not troubled,
Although thy Size and Years are doubled,
Since first I saw Thee at Sixteen
The brightest Virgin on the Green,
So little is thy Form declin'd
Made up so largely in thy Mind.
Oh, woud it please the Gods to split
Thy Beauty, Size, and Years, and Wit,
No Age could furnish out a Pair
Of Nymphs so graceful, Wise and fair
With half the Lustre of your Eyes,
With half your Wit, your Years and Size:
And then before it grew too late,
How should I beg of gentle Fate,
(That either Nymph might have her Swain,)
To split my Worship too in twain.
poem by Jonathan Swift

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In Exile, , ,
must poets live in exile?
strangers limping to the dance.
streetlights dancing on the lampshade,
thrown into the trash.
in conversations with rats,
sleeping with ghosts in empty buildings.
immigrants without papers,
pawning blood for a drink.
by fires on the fringe,
stirring the stew made of hope.
eyes blackened by the smoke,
laughing with small children.
painting revolution on sterile walls,
sharing bread with mongrel dogs.
lovers without a country,
homeless, going home!
poem by Eric Cockrell

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Peace And Propriety
in the name of propriety
to cats we must be cats too
you know what happens when
we show to the cats that we
are really dogs in feelings and
actions,
there will be a chase of course,
and chaos, and there will be war
and there will be losers and
winners,
and in this matter
and manner of speaking we choose
to be dogs to assure that we win
but that is not always the case
the cats have advanced in their feline
technology and breeding
so my dear, let us just be proper
to cats we shall be cats
and make this world a happy place
for all.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

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Cotton Avenue
A red sun came rolling down a grey sky
And the frogs and dogs and night birds then
Started up singing sweet country lullaby
You see that patch of city lights-
Somewhere in theres cotton avenue-
Thats where Im going to take myself tonight
With a spit shine on my dancing shoes
If you got a place like that to go
You just have to go there
If you got no place special
Well then, you just go no place special
I guess its just the summer in the young blood
Ripe and juicy in the young blood
Teasing to go down to ...
Cotton avenue
To hear the shiny shiny music
See all the shiny people dancing to it
Anytime you go to ...
Cotton avenue
If you got a place like that to go
You know you got to go there
If you got no place special
Well then, you just go no place special
You see that summer storm brewing in the southern sky
By the time it hits here Ill be dancing high and dry
To rhythm and blues
On cotton avenue
Poor boysll be hanging around outside in the street
They got all the latest words
Theyre dancing to the latest beat
While theyre hustling and sizing you
On cotton avenue
If you got a place like that to go
You just have to go there
If youve got no place special
Well my dear
You just so no place ... special
song performed by by Joni Mitchell

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Home Truths
Seeking a Truth
The sewers under the abortion clinic
is where successful rats live and only
the strongest survives.
From the bland food of suburbia and
narrow minded excrements, unwilling
given back to the drains and nature.
These big rats have survived to sit by
the top table and be respected as those
who deserves a prize for endurance.
They live on sludge of fetuses, tiny fingers
small, beating hearts; also, clean livers;
and the rats grow and reason as humans
Rich rats now have an army of lesser
rats to defend them, nothing last always,
but for some it ended before it began.
poem by Oskar Hansen

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Diamond Dogs
(bowie)
As they pulled you out of the oxygen tent
You asked for the latest party
With your silicone hump and your ten inchy stump
Dressed like a priest you was,
Todd browning beast you was
Crawling down the alley on your hands and knees,
Im sure youre not protected
For its plain to see
The diamond dogs are poachers and they hide behind trees
Hunt you to the ground they will
Mannequins with kill-appeal
Will they come?
I keep a friend serene
Will they come?
Oh, baby, come unto me
Will they come?
Well, shes come, been, and gone
Come out of the garden, baby
Youll catch a death in the fog
Young girl they call them the diamond dogs
Young girl they call them the diamond dogs
Now halloween jack is a real cool cat,
And he lives on top of manhattan chase
The elevators broke so he slides down a rope
Onto the street below
Oh tarzie go man, go
Meets his little hussy with his ghost-town approach
Her face is sans feature but she wears a dali brooch
Sweetly reminiscent something mother used to bake
Wrecked up and paralyzed
Diamond dogs are sable-ized
Will they come?
I keep a friend serene
Will they come?
Oh, baby, come unto me
Will they come?
Well, shes come, been, and gone
(chorus)
In the year of the scavenger the season of the bitch
Sashay on the board-walk scurry to the ditch
Just another future song lonely little kitch
Theres gonna be sorrow try and wake up tomorrow
Will they come?
I keep a friend serene
Will they come?
Oh, baby, come unto me
Will they come?
Well, shes come, been, and gone
(chorus)
song performed by by Duran Duran

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Dogs (Homage)
Man’s best friend?
Why?
There is nothing quite as cute as a puppy
Dogs are more than pets, they’re companions
Dogs are fiercely loyal
Dogs protect life & property, even to their own demise
Dogs do not judge their masters
Dogs are grateful for any food fed them
Dogs can be trained to carry, guide, search, rescue and hunt
Dogs are great listeners
Dogs are ready to play anytime
Dogs are emotional sponges that absorb human misery
Dogs are wonderful match-makers and buffers
Dogs can chase away “The blues”
You can take a dog’s balls and he’ll still love you
Yes,
Dogs are 'Man’s best friend'
After all God is Dog spelled backwards...
poem by Ray Lucero

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