Kinderfeld
He lives inside my mouth
And tells me what to say
When he turns the trains
On he makes it go away
The hands are cracked and dirty and
The nails are beetle wings
When he turns the trains on he
Unties all of the strings
The worm: tell me something beautiful,
Tell me something free,
Tell me something beautiful
And I wish that I could be.
(then I got my wings and I never even knew it,
When I was a worm, thought I couldnt get through it)
Jack: (not spoken) come, come
The toys all smell like children
And scab-knees will obey
Ill just have to kneel on broomsticks
Just to make it go away
[the inauguration of the worm]
(then I got my wings and I never even knew it,
When I was a worm, thought I couldnt get through it)
A voice we have not yet heard: because today
Is black/because there is no turning back.
Because your lies have watered me/
I have become the strongest weed weed...
Through jacks eyes:
The taste of metal
Disintegrator
Three holes upon the leather belt
Its cut and swollen
And the age is swollen
Boy: theres no one here to save ourself.
The disintegrator: (to himself)
This is what you should fear
You are what you should fear
song performed by by Marilyn Manson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
Wormboy
When will realize youre already there?
So watered down-your feelings have turned to mud.
love everybody is destroying the value of
All hate has got me nowhere
I know Im slipping, I know Im slipping, I know Im slipping away
Oh no, it is everything they said it was
Oh no, I am everything they said I was
When you you get to heaven you will wish you youre in hell
When will you realize, youre already here
Youll think us now that you have crossed over
Dont pick the scabs or you will never heal
The world shudders as the worm gets its wings
(chorus)
Then I got my wings and I never even knew it
When I was a worm, thought I wouldnt get through it...
song performed by by Marilyn Manson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Who Are You?
and the worm
that looks like
a set of thorns
on a glossy leaf
asks the creature
above it with
some wings........................who are you?
and it answered him
i was once in your body
wriggling to be free
asking a lot of questions
to the air and the tree...............i am what you will soon be,
a butterfly...
and the worm does not
believe it greedy as it is
with the sap of the leaves
somehow it feels
something new it is
feeling some wings
growing, some possibilities
lurking inside it.....................................how can this be?
it is the same question
that you have been asking
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The (f) Rying Woman....
to pry upon his weakness and to discover
some artifacts from his house is her past time
and every hour when there is a break from the
wanton hours and the monotonous menu of the day
she opens the usual window and watch what the
worm is doing inside the terrarium
she records the possibility that this can be a landmark
of history and significant for what others say as a phenomenon
other people's lives matter
and sometimes the worm that looks at her too asks: why?
the worm, and she does not know this, is also prying upon her
her shrinking breasts, her skin that looks like dry tobacco leaf
her life that to the worm has become more of a raisin
stuffed inside a boxed, with a history of having been dried by the sun
the worm is fair though, in its latest description
she is still sweet though neutral in smell, and deserves still to be liked to be eaten someday
p.s. the worm remarks, kids will like her.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Professor Nutbutters House Of Treats
Cmon kiddies gather round. whos your foremost friend in town?
From main to maple the name resounds, professor nutbutter.
Hes the one, the humble one, the barkley county prodigal son.
Here to serve only you, professor nutbutter.
At old nutbutters house of treats from jellied jams to sacks of
Sweets,
Theres creamy and nutatious spreads for all.
Chemist, master of entomology the professor for a modest fee
Will cure what ails you, guaranteed professor nutbutter.
Its alright, dont fear the worm.
Cmon kiddies dont be shy be youthful til the day you die.
The man the myth, the magic of professor nutbutter.
Hes the one the only one the meeklybville prodigal son.
Here to help us with ourselves, professor nutbutter
Its alright to fear the worm.
[its all right to fear the worm. the worm, the worm is our friend.
Um, but not all of the properties of the worm can be, uh, fully,
Fully, well, appreciated by the, uh, the human body itself, but, um
Its, its, its, its ok to, to fear the worm. um, i, myself, have
Had no, uh, problems with the worm but in a certain situation, uh, i
Would feel like, what, what, uh, ramifications, um, could occur? uh,
Theres, theres really no need to, uh, to fear much of anything, you
Know. fear of the, fear of the temptation is a, more, probably, more,
More, appropriate word in this particular scenario. um, the, uh,
Well, it, depends on what you want, I suppose. it really depends on,
On what you want.]
song performed by by Primus
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Worm Either Way
If you live along with all the other people
and are just like them, and conform, and are nice
you're just a worm --
and if you live with all the other people
and you don't like them and won't be like them and won't conform
then you're just the worm that has turned,
in either case, a worm.
The conforming worm stays just inside the skin
respectably unseen, and cheerfully gnaws away at the heart of life,
making it all rotten inside.
The unconforming worm -- that is, the worm that has turned --
gnaws just the same, gnawing the substance out of life,
but he insists on gnawing a little hole in the social epidermis
and poking his head out and waving himself
and saying: Look at me, I am not respectable,
I do all the things the bourgeois daren't do,
I booze and fornicate and use foul language and despise your honest man.--
But why should the worm that has turned protest so much?
The bonnie bonnie bourgeois goes a-whoring up back streets just the same.
The busy busy bourgeois imbibes his little share
just the same
if not more.
The pretty pretty bourgeois pinks his language just as pink
if not pinker,
and in private boasts his exploits even louder, if you ask me,
than the other.
While as to honesty, Oh look where the money lies!
So I can't see where the worm that has turned puts anything over
the worm that is too cunning to turn.
On the contrary, he merely gives himself away.
The turned worm shouts. I bravely booze!
the other says. Have one with me!
The turned worm boasts: I copulate!
the unturned says: You look it.
You're a d----- b----- b----- p----- bb-----, says the worm that's turned.
Quite! says the other. Cuckoo!
poem by David Herbert Lawrence
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Part 4: The fish saves the worm
The big-mouth fish, snatched the worm.
As the worm was afraid; a small piece of him,
was left, on the sharp object.
The fish cuddle him, in his mouth.
Swimming as fast as he can;
to make it, close to the shore.
The fish, spit him out, on the land.
As the worm landed, he look toward the fish.
And said, ' thank you for not eating me? '
I wish you well, the fish said. Take care!
As the worm grind his way, toward a new place.
Knowing this ain't his home, the ground was moist.
He drilled a hole, and discover a new home.
The End....
poem by Derrick Clark
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There Is Something Inside My Mouth
there is something inside
my mouth
coming from my heart
moving out through
my esophagus
it is inside my mouth.
my tongue cannot hold it anymore.
i spit it out. it is a worm. it is turning into a coccoon.
it is a butterfly.
it is fluttering.
do you think that it can be the poem for my
busy day today?
it falls. It is dead. It has turned into a leaf.
dust. another dust that i have bitten.
tomorrow, i will swallow another worm.
but i will not bite it again.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Among All Lovely Things My Love Had Been
AMONG all lovely things my Love had been;
Had noted well the stars, all flowers that grew
About her home; but she had never seen
A glow-worm, never one, and this I knew.
While riding near her home one stormy night
A single glow-worm did I chance to espy;
I gave a fervent welcome to the sight,
And from my horse I leapt; great joy had I.
Upon a leaf the glow-worm did I lay,
To bear it with me through the stormy night:
And, as before, it shone without dismay;
Albeit putting forth a fainter light.
When to the dwelling of my Love I came,
I went into the orchard quietly;
And left the glow-worm, blessing it by name,
Laid safely by itself, beneath a tree.
The whole next day, I hoped, and hoped with fear;
At night the glow-worm shone beneath the tree;
I led my Lucy to the spot, 'Look here,'
Oh! joy it was for her, and joy for me!
poem by William Wordsworth
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The Chambermaid's Second Song
From pleasure of the bed,
Dull as a worm,
His rod and its butting head
Limp as a worm,
His spirit that has fled
Blind as a worm.
poem by William Butler Yeats
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Dr Worm
They call me Dr. Worm,
Good morning, how are you? I'm Dr. Worm.
I'm interested in things,
I'm not a real doctor but I am a real worm,
I am an actual worm,
I live like a worm.
I like to play the drums.
I think I'm getting good, but I can handle criticism.
I'll show you what I know and you can
Tell me if you think I'm getting better on the drums
I'll leave the front unlocked 'cause I can't
Hear the doorbell...
When I get into it, I can't tell if you are
Watching me twirling the stick.
When I give the signal, my friend
Rabbi Vole will play the solo...
Someday, somebody else besides me will
Call me by my stage name, they will
Call me Dr. Worm,
Good morning, how are you? I'm Dr. Worm.
I'm interested in things.
I'm not a real doctor but I am a real worm,
I am an actual worm,
I live like a worm.
And I like to play the drums,
I think I'm getting good, but I can handle criticism.
I'll show you what I know and you can
Tell me if you think I'm getting better on the drums.
I'm not a real doctor, but they call me
Dr. Worm!
song performed by by They Might Be Giants
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Doctor Worm
They call me dr. worm.
Good morning. how are you? Im dr. worm.
Im interested in things.
Im not a real doctor,
But I am a real worm;
I am an actual worm.
I live like a worm.
I like to play the drums.
I think Im getting good,
But I can handle criticism.
Ill show you what I know,
And you can tell me if you think Im getting better on the drums.
Ill leave the front un-locked cause I cant
Hear the doorbell
When I get into it I cant tell if you are
Watching me twirling the stick.
When I give the signal, my friend
Rabbi vole will play the solo
Some day somebody else besides me will
Call me by my stage name, they will
Call me dr worm.
Good morning how are you, Im dr worm
Im interested in things.
Im not a real doctor,
But I am a real worm;
I am an actual worm.
I live like a worm.
I like to play the drums.
I think Im getting good,
But I can handle criticism.
Ill show you what I know,
And you can tell me if you think Im getting better on the drums.
Im not a real doctor,
But they call me dr. worm.
song performed by by They Might Be Giants
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Ant Worm Story...
shall i finish the story of the ant
and the worm?
at the cliff the worm jumps
landing on the arms of the grounded worm
and there and then
willfully, euphoniously, they both lived
happily ever-after
if you only write it yourself
i could have read a better ending than what i have
lazily imagined.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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A Fishy Mystery
Here I am a fish
swimming with my friend Jack
as content as content can be,
then Jack says food ahead.
Hmm, I wonder as I spy
the wriggling worm ahead.
Jack swims with his mouth open
and then the next minute Jack and worm are gone.
My friends disappear like
that whenever food is around.
One minute we are happily swimming together
and then the next the food and they are gone.
Sadly they never come back
to say where they had gone
which only leaves me here
with a bit of a fishy mystery.
4 July 2010
poem by David Harris
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Another Conversa Mi Amiga....
i am proud to say, i do not hide my ignorance and lapses 7: 06 AM
but i always hide my eggs 7: 06 AM
Me
h ehehe 7: 06 AM
for fear that it may get burned 7: 07 AM
Me
but 7: 07 AM
it is because uv got confidence 7: 07 AM
ur ignorance is minimal hehehe 7: 07 AM
compared to us 7: 07 AM
confidence is the flower of ignorance 7: 07 AM
Me
so nasa taas gihapon ka 7: 07 AM
safe up there 7: 07 AM
u can still be naked 7: 08 AM
it is cold up there 7: 08 AM
lonelier 7: 08 AM
because there only a few of me here 7: 08 AM
(har har har) 7: 08 AM
'few of me' 7: 08 AM
Me
t ht's confidence hehehe 7: 08 AM
few og u 7: 08 AM
looking down the cliff and asking the ant 7: 08 AM
Me
of u 7: 08 AM
Hey mr. ant what's breakfast? 7: 08 AM
what is the weather down there? 7: 09 AM
and the ant said 7: 09 AM
You worm, why are you up there? 7: 09 AM
you will die when the sun comes up? 7: 09 AM
Me
h ehehehe 7: 09 AM
wow 7: 09 AM
and i said, how dare you call me worm? 7: 09 AM
i am a caterpillar 7: 10 AM
and the ant said: caterpillar is a worm, idiot! 7: 10 AM
Me
h ahahaha 7: 10 AM
and the caterpillar said: watch out when i become a butterfly 7: 10 AM
i will ride the sun 7: 10 AM
Me
s unog 7: 10 AM
and the ant said: try it mr. butterfly, sting like a bee and be 7: 11 AM
that dead boxer of the world 7: 11 AM
Me
n ice story 7: 11 AM
and the worm said: (yucks, this ants knows many things 7: 11 AM
Me
h ahahah 7: 11 AM
how come does he know about muhamad?) 7: 11 AM
Me
h umble ant 7: 11 AM
and the ant said: hey worm, i can hear you? i have feet with ears 7: 12 AM
Me
b ecause the ant is grounded hehehe 7: 12 AM
she knows and she sees 7: 12 AM
and the worm said: with ears or not, you are still the ant that feed on morsels and dead leaves 7: 12 AM
ant: well, at least i feed myself from honest means 7: 13 AM
worm: i did not say that you are dishonest, and what's honesty got to do with our conversation? 7: 13 AM
Me
h ahaha 7: 13 AM
true 7: 13 AM
ant: (ugma na lang ta maghuman kay magsulat pag balak si alis kweng ka) 7: 14 AM
ha ha 7: 14 AM
nadalahig ka hinoon sa akong ka buang 7: 14 AM
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Metamorphosis
it is not the story of
the worm turning into
a butterfly
but it is really that
black hairy worm
eating a leaf
after days and days
turning into a butterfly
i do not have the right to hold it
i only have to see it
fly
away.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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It's Not Fair
I am the worm that never sleeps.
My given name is jealously.
I live within the twisted deeps
of human minds: Wait patiently.
I won’t attack you openly
for that would lead to my defeat
I nurture envy secretly.
I know how hard you must compete
For the success you hope to gain
and when it’s rudely snatched away
I will exacerbate your pain
and make you think a different way.
Why should they have what I cannot.
There is no reason I can see
Injustice makes your blood run hot
and you are wracked with jealousy
I am the worm who slumbers not
residing in the hearts of men
who are unhappy with their lot.
The wakeful worm has won again.
(29-Jun-07)
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Watching His Transformation
did he start
from an egg
hatching into
a worm
then hid
in a cocoon
and then
turning into
a butterfly?
did you see
him
spread his wings
for the first time?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Trouble In Store (Nonsense Poem)
If the worm turns
with a tiger’s growl
and a lion’s roar,
you know there is
trouble in store.
The muscle man on the beach
will lose out to
the weakling
who is standing over there.
The world goes topsy-turvy
opposites begin to attract
and no one will know
who they really are.
If the worm turns
with a tiger’s growl
and a lion’s roar,
you know there is
trouble in store.
15 March 2011
poem by David Harris
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Let's Build Our Friendship
Imagine! An old oak tree stood solely
In the fall of wilderness
Under the cloudless sky in its darkness
And the wind whistling but in forceless thread
You, the son of red robin,
Learnt to fly for that first worm
Fear not from the violent tide
But a cloud to a great storm
I envy your wings to my arms
To reach your highest flights
For mine is to toil this ground
Deep to my nails to seed mine
Not yours! Neither should I share
But If my destroyers make you live
You're my best friend to be around
Here you sing, while my fingers dance
On these pebbles, scab of my soil,
Make them two fingers your beak
To nip each one to my side
Until this house is your home
Truly! Two strangers take time to build their friendship - with patience to know each other, to give and take of what must be shared, to define their differences without insults, and to remain faithful whatever the distance, the height, the fame have their fortune laid on their hands.
poem by Efren Petalver Carranza
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A Worm Edging Throug A Leaf
there is no hurry
really
for the worm to eat
his way through
the place it lives
temporarily
for soon
things will change
the world
shall give it wings
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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