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Best Cockroach Poems | Poetry

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The Best Cockroach Poems

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The Reaper's Return

The cockroach crawling inside a satin evil darkness
weeping one clown into silken soft sensual feelings 
blinking starlight beacon awaiting a tense message
every living dream doubts becoming nightmares.

Bleeding trapped within a shadow’s eerie smile while 
grinning through the hurt smiling at the joy cheering
at twisted laughs with needles of pain, lust, passion 
and gasping a victim choking in deep labored breaths.

Choking one heart now taken tragically away from us
With nightshade vision blindly walking in the dark night 
into the realm of the dead and forever gone with sad
ice cold whispers playing aloud and striking so deeply.  

A taste of hell and a fool’s game of serious malediction
while cold whispers compel us ever so against the wind 
as a restless soul is cutting ice frozen in time dreaming 
of things past with hypnotic jewels of a deepest beauty.
When little gestures meant so much to each of us all
lost in space dark matter invades and pervades us all 
as reigning hell-fire burns down the steep mountainside  
and a cold stream held in the ocean becomes one dream. 

Gary Bateman and Liam McDaid – A Collaborated Poem,
Copyright © All Rights Reserved (May 15, 2015)
(Unrhymed Quatrain)

Copyright © liam mcdaid | Year Posted 2015

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Harlem Blues

It's night now in harlem, time to explore
Snakes are diurnal, rats love their nocturnal
Life, the subway is a swinging door.
A cockroach crawls before it falls
Catalectic between the broken walls.
It's time to pay the rent and feed children
Feeding themselves from a golden arch
Of junk. Sunday's money is gone to heaven
But Sunday's soul is strung out in a park.

The boundaries of black life draw tourists 
From away places, easy to find on Harlem
Streets young girls window shopping closed stores
And vermins that never meets the eyes
When day is bright. Young boys in their pack
Cannot prowl alone, someone must watch the crack
In the wall, the sound of shadowy foot falls
The blind bullet speeding towards a sighless back.

She comes click clacking through the door,
A stilletto shaft of light on the puddle of gore
Why are all her children dead so young?
What happen to black boys in their dreams
To belong? Sisters, be strong, keep the veins
On idle from the needle punctuating
The decisions of a real sinister man. Sisters, I hear
In the blues, thin pointed, small stilletto shoes
Walking through cold, papers blowing the evening news
Across the tangled sounds of aimless feet.

A scrawny, melodramatic light, shines 
Where the streets lamps dispossessed of bulbs
Points to the origin of the curling incense 
A sweet cat reads children  fairy tales 
On a carpet that will not fly.
We have a new president
Looking like Malcolm talking like King
But since sister Tubman left us
The genii blew out the lamp
Who is circling the wagon, who is pulling camp?

This north is still far from promiseland
The only thing not found on the ground 
In Harlem is cotton,
It is too white for self inflicted wounds.
Cotton burns,  it would burn in the night.
We who plant it has none of its delights.
Pour me a pint of blues, give me light
My sorrow drives the economy,
If I die what pall will bear testimony
To the wreaths of wind shivering inthe empty space
Of the shuttered mall.

Read fairy tales Harriet, meant well but went the wrong way
Pinkerton did not stop her, hope decentralizes the wealth
But Marcus, O Marcus was a different thing
They had to prison him. He knew the way to go
Flip flapping wind sail and no stilletto toe
Could carry this burden across so much salt of water
Through these hypertensions of night. Cry for Marcus
To come from his whirlwind, a hollow laughter echoes here.

Copyright © L'nass Shango | Year Posted 2009

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The skeleton

On the day you were born
I have bestowed upon you
We will spend together a lifetime
Without me inside you compare to glue
Like the cockroach who always hides
I can only be found deep inside the skin
I am not the one you find in the closet
I am the one in a sack of bones

Created from the dust
While your other half, given life from your ribs
The man always returns to the dirt he is
The women remain in the coffin, she made for us
The Apple Eve shared with Adam
Doomed us to die  from the start
From the snake came nothing good
Just a battle of evil in our hearts
A piece of skeleton from Adams rib
A rib from Adam he made Eve
Eve in form of a skeleton, with a breath 
Our bones will never unite in heaven
That is the price for Eve's deceive
She gave up our human paradise
Hiding in each and every one of us
Until the day we die
Adam will return as dust
While Eve stays to show death comes to us all!

The spirit and soul left us for eternity
As I remain where you last laid, your body rots away
You slowly depart, leaving me behind
You are going to the other world
While I remain in this box
Never to see each other again


Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2010

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Going through this life at a frenzied pace
It's clear why we call it human race
I saw a piece of carefully gathered stardust
A desire for every parent

Adebimpe, a true definition of Omoluabi
Ornamented with great courtesy
Is she from this generation?
Is she for this generation?

Within bounds how do I keep this admiration?
With her modesty which confined me in amazement
More admirable is her compassionate heart
With a house of the soul devoid of deception

A little girl with qualities of a good mother
I've met Alara
I've met Aresa
But none is anywhere near her

I've met Olugbon
I've met Ajero
They appeared not in her row

When she writes, I bet it
Thou shall re-read till thy wide grey eyes are ensnared
And glued to the awe-inspiring handwriting

When she reads, I bet it
Thou shall listen  till thy ears are ensnared
Through her eloquent free flowing articulations
Her ornamental expressions are like apples of gold
Set aside in a silver filigree

When she sings,
Where art thy sorrows?
Forgotten in few seconds
Her sonorous voice, the envy of birds

When she cooks,
Sedately,  the condiments she blends
The aroma of her food, enough a food
Her use of locust beans,
The envy of housewives

When she dances, I bet it
Thou shalt hate dancing
For even a cockroach would do it better

Upon all the lofty mountains shall I vocalise her admiration
For my palate in low tone utters truthfulness
I shall proclaim her modesty
I shall invite birds
For behold we shall sing a song of a young African girl

I shall send an invitation to the stars
For we shall illuminate the sky
In return, a beautiful panorama shall we have

Let the earth rejoice
For this girl is one in a trillion
Let the unborn children remain anxious
For they shall live to tell their offsprings

Let the mountain shout for joy
Let the leaves rise and dance
Let the insects sing and rustle about
Let the rat embrace the cat

With full acceleration,
Let the snails rush down
With a heart full of joy and enthusiasm,
Let the tortoise outrun the horse
In a bid to behold Adebimpe.

O! heavens, may I look on thy holy radiance?
O! good God, to my humble supplication,
Do give ears
Let every child adopt her style
And we shall retrieve the gone good generation

N.B: 'Omoluabi' is a term used by the 'Yorubas',in Nigeria, to refer to one who is well-cultured. 'Alara, Aresa, Ajero' are used to depict different categories of people ever graced the land.

Copyright © Adeniji Toluwalope Gideon | Year Posted 2016

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A woman is the greatest of all contradiction;
She is an angel in truth and a demon in fiction.

She is afraid of a cockroach, she will scream at 
a mouse but she will tackle a man as big as a house.

She will take him for better, she will take him for worse
She will split his head open and then be his nurse.

And when he is well and can get out of bed, she will 
pick up a pot and throw at his head.

She is faithful, deceitful, keen-sighted and blind;
She is crafty, she is simple, she is cruel and kind.

She will lift up a man and she will cast him down;
She will make him a king and she will make him a clown.

You fancy she is this but you find out she is that,
For she will play like a kitten and bite like a cat.

In the morning she will but in the evening she wont
and when you are always expecting she does she don't.

Copyright © Carlton Dean Morris | Year Posted 2015

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Laugh With Jack

Every planet in our solar system Rotates in an anticlockwise direction Except Venus which insists on being different Always one has to be the exception About 75 acres of pizzas are downed In America every single day Probably chow down about an acre myself So I do my share wouldn't you say Our eyes are always the same size from birth However noses and ears get bigger Imagine if our footsies also kept growing Hard to do the Charleston I'd figure The disgusting cockroach is the fastest animal It covers about a meter a second That's faster than me when I need to go badly Running and holding my back end They say only rabbits and parrots can see Behind without turning their heads But mothers also seem to have that ability Try stealing some cookies before bed A goldfish's memory is about 3 seconds The same as me on a good day That's excellent as far as most seniors go Wish it was longer but what the hey Iguanas can stay under water 28 minutes Me too, but I'd miss all my friends Sure hope they'd visit me one last time Before off to the furnace I descend All bubble gum contains a bit of rubber For that bouncy bally effect Makes you able to leap over tall buildings But watch you don't break your neck © Jack Ellison 2013

Copyright © Jack Ellison | Year Posted 2013

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Late Night Treat

It is already late while I see
Those kids still play hide and seek
Dance around that pole which lacked of paint
The cockroach underneath tried to escape, run for a life

A night with an empty sky
Those constellations were asleep
Street lights accompanying me in a hush 
But has yet to beat the rest of my spirit

I walk on melody towards to the gate of joy
Imagining love is waiting behind the warm sheet
Though those 'to do list' take a number of waiting list 
They may have to wait and be on their queue

My eyes may have occupied by a ton of drowsiness 
But not for my brain which still spin on its rusty gear
Fulfilling the tiny pleasure of a friend across the web
Life cannot be much prettier than this

Dedicated to all of my friends in Poetrysoup who were encouraging me to keep on writing

*Special thanks to Richard Lamoureux :D

Copyright © Yanny Widjanarko | Year Posted 2013

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Never Say Die

Watching a movie ('Walking Tall')
I spied a cockroach on my wall,
crawling in and out of sight,
the proud homeowner's sorry plight.
Now I see him, now I don't,
a creepy feeling, and I won't
feel better till he's dead and gone,
deeming it a job well done.

The kitchen was my battleground,
I chased the bugger round and round,
('persistent' was the name I christened
my thick-skinned antagonist),
for dodging footfalls he'd survived
the era of the dinosaurs,
avoiding conflict he'd outlived
the perils of unnumbered wars.

Tired, and soaked with perspiration,
craving his elimination,
I, with magazine extended
dealt a blow, his life was ended.
Or was it? Wriggling in his death throes,
wiggling several sets of black toes,
on his back he scarce could right
himself to carry on the fight.

Yet more he fiddled, then was still,
an adversary with a will,
he lay quiescent on the rug,
that bold, defiant little bug.
I left him shaken, (his demise 
beyond salvation?), then my eyes
beheld no insect, just a stain,
for he'd crept off to scare again!

Copyright © Keith Bickerstaffe | Year Posted 2012

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Never Say Die!

Watching a movie ('Walking Tall')
I spied a cockroach on my wall,
crawling in and out of sight,
the proud homeowner's sorry plight.
Now I see him, now I don't,
a creepy feeling, and I won't
feel better till he's dead and gone,
considering it a job well done.

The kitchen was my battleground,
I chased the bugger round and round,
('persistent' was the name I christened
my thick-skinned antagonist,)
for dodging footfalls he'd survived
the era of the dinosaurs,
avoiding conflict he'd outlived
the perils of unnumbered wars.

Tired and soaked with perspiration,
craving his elimination,
I, with magazine extended
dealt a blow, his life was ended.
Or was it? Wriggling in his death throes,
wiggling several sets of black toes,
on his back he scarce could right
himself to carry on the fight.

Yet more he fiddled, then was still,
an adversary with a will,
he lay quiescent on the rug,
that bold defiant little bug.
I left him shaken, (his demise 
beyond salvation?), then my eyes
beheld no insect, just a stain,
for he'd crept off to scare again!

Copyright © Keith Bickerstaffe | Year Posted 2009

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I have a carapace shiny and black,
And when I visit I do more than snack!
I scuttle about in the dead of night,
Never once do I need to use a light.

If I am seen people get a big fright,
Why do they all have to get so uptight?
I am always under constant attack!
They chase me about and give me a whack,

Though peppered like a plane flying through flack!
Away I must dash to the nearest crack.
These people I seem to overexcite,
Yet I am so small and always contrite.

My PR stinks you can say what you might,
Definitely not a mother’s delight!
But when I am safe in my own little shack,
Playing with a piece of unsmoked tobac .

To this accord I will hang up a plaque,
You wont catch me I’m as sharp as a tack.
You need not worry about the invite,
I’ll be the last at your party tonight.

Copyright © Shane Cooper | Year Posted 2015

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The Head Line News read, Houston under Martial Law,
Stay indoors, do not panic, and do not go out, under any
I’m not sure from wrens’ they came, at first it was just
The rain, not the regular storm, or hurricane, but the
Apocalyptic drama of Noah and the epic flood.
From the shadows these beings seem to emerge,
Flesh eating beasts, wearing the faces of my friends,
Neighbors, and acquaintances, an unwanted block
Party of the undead, and I’m on the menu,
As the main course, for dinners raw sushi bar.
Behind fears locked doors I did so scramble,
Like a cockroach trying to escape, an aerosol
Bombing, my only venues retreat, the garage,
It’s the fastest way out, my car I had to get
To it somehow, or get prepared for the worst,
Mortal combats assassination.
But the rain pounded harder, as the fists
Gathered banging outside my window panes,
Time was growing short for humans, it was
Becoming a deadly game of cat and mouse
Instincts flight or fight mode kicked in, as my
Front door gave way, I’m in a tailspin running mode,
Crashing, down my own garage door, smashing
Into the bodies of the living dead, searching
In the panic room of a four door security zone,
For sanity’s insane scenario, my only link to
Reality the radio, telling me to stay safely indoors.
In hell’s storm, I became lost, as the torrents
Blast, knocked my vehicle from side to side,
Following the beacons of street lights of hope,
I knew not where to go, but I had to keep
Moving, for the walking dead never sleeps,
These nightmare creepers, whom followed
The living with insatiable hunger!
God emptied his private reservoirs onto Houston,
The rain enveloped every escape route but one,
The highway, the radio man spoke loud and clear,
Just then, head for the high ground.
But I knew who would be waiting there,
In the shadow realm, pale skinned demons,
With hungry eyes piercing through the night.
Instead I followed the basic desire to stay alive
One more night, Corpus Christy here I come,
Don’t spare the horsepower, I’m on my way,
To your gleaming streets, without dead walkers.

Head line news now reads, many lives were
Lost in the storm of storms, that hit our beloved
Houston, let us bow our heads in prayer,
Not one word was ever spoken, about the
Zombies of the rain, but I’ll never forget,
That night as long as I live.


Copyright © cherl dunn | Year Posted 2015

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The Lay of The Best Man - Part 5

The Lay of The Best Man - Part Five

Have you heard about the bespectacled man who wore his glasses to bed?
Because when he awoke mornings his dreams were all blurry in his head.
And what about the obese man who wanted to lose weight the easy way? Know what he said?
‘I’ll increase my carnal pleasures with the wife instead, and … kill Two Stones with one ‘Bird’’.
Foolish men. You sprint where Angels fear to tread and tell the Devil to go to Hell
Still, were it not for you, this world would be devoid of heroes; that much I can tell.

Please bear with me while I expose your moroseness and clarify your moronity.
Why a pained death aged 100, thanks to science,  rather than one at 80 with dignity?
Have you ever thought that always being prepared is the best practise to perfection?
Is it not better to strive for something beneficial, even if in vain, than to take no action?
Do you really think that microbes cannot control your behaviour? It’s all about survival.
And how does anyone know that microbes are not averse to  smell or sound? Fiction or factual? 

The proportion of water covering the Earth is the same as within the human body.
But tell me: How many find this not to be the strangest unlikely parody?
Also, how come the natural colours of the Earth are the same colours as man’s eyes?
All creatures, great and small, mourn their dead, so why can’t trees? No matter the size.
If a tree can make sound and move, breathe as you breathe, and grow like you grow,
Why then should it not see like you see, think like you think, and know as you know?

Oh yes, the ‘convenient’ Christian; please ask him to quote the Fifth Commandment. watch him squirm as he feebly pleads the Fifth Amendment.
Many fail to 'Beware the Ides of March', deferring instead to Medicine and the Holistic
When in truth they should be referring to His Rod and Staff: The Holy Stick.
Your Scientists talk about Gravity and viscosity, sparks and quarks, and the Quantum feat.
But let’s be clear there’s another force, a human force; ….pray!! …..never the twain shall meet!!!

I reaffirm my avowedness to defend both the woman and the child.
Not only this, but also to defend the destruction of creatures of the wild.
In an ideal world the man would take the lead for an exemplary life and be beyond reproach
Instead his despicable ways is far from impeccable and he is not much better than the cockroach.
He swats the fly and and butchers the whale, ….and he must kill that Killer Bee.
But strange as it seems, he courts the ‘crims’, recidivists, …and leaves the killers be!?!?

Remember this: one has no choice in their gender, colour, or sexual orientation.
So please stop your hating, constant assaults, malice, and casual discrimination.
I am what I am by virtue of Life’s choice and mysteries unknown.
Just as you are what you are - by what Nature’s seeds have sown.
Be witness: If I have hurt no man, woman or child; not a tree nor creature free; I leave them be,
Why then should you hate me? …when you should be hating yourself for hating and mocking me!

The earth re-heals it’s good heath with fire, brimstone and seeping magma.
The Man repels all good health, many are covered in filth - a sapping stigma. 
Like a growing infestation of fungus and mould, their flesh obliterates Earth’s surface
Much worse than this: this festering eye-sore sore I see has even contaminated outer space!
I do see ‘ups’, but saw more ‘downs’; like a see-saw ..repeating; man seldom learns from history
Understand this: every single life, no matter how brief, has it’s own story. so give it due glory!

Remember Mr Good Character who, oblivious, crushed Aunty Ant, the bug?
Well, one day as he strolled, oblivious, he got assaulted by Mr Nasty, the thug.
Now, just like the bug he realises this world is filled with unprecedented dangers
And has learned that he has no rights when dealing with unpredictable strangers
“Now you see me, now you don’t …Karma, karma, karma”, cried the Chameleon
“Welcome to my world. “Welcome to a world where men live in oblivion!”

A man is not what he’s meant to be because he just exists, rather than live.
A man will not think as he ought to because he’d rather contend and not believe.
A man does not do that which he’s meant to do because his heart rules his head.
A man cannot act as he should because of his selfishness, greed, manners of dread.

Men can easily pretend - or even be naturally good
Still others, though genuine, are so often misunderstood.
But I’d claim that - (though it will your spirit dampen)…
‘A good man is simply a bad one waiting to happen’
So here is a truth - the truest TRUTH you’ve ever heard
That most men are BAD…so ALWAYS be on your guard!

p.s. …oh yes, …and some women too!

Copyright © Robert Amure | Year Posted 2015

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An Unwelcome Guest

Hi I'm a guest in your home, yes that's right your not along
But, you don't like me 
I'll never understand why
When I run across the table I'm only trying to say hi
But you try and hit me like I'm the bad guy
Why can't we be friends?
Come on lets shake hand but if you don't feel up to it I understand
You stand so tall
I stand so small
You should not be afraid of me at all
But when you see us who do you call?
The terminator the exterminator to try to make us leave.
But, all you really have to do is say please
Stop being so mean!
We love your house so nice and warm and the food oh my who could ask for more?
We love living here and would not leave for the world
We love sleeping in you bed even though we may bite you now and then
We only want to be your friend
So put down that can of RAID you'll be a murder if you spray.
Please think about what I have wrote
A poem for you form a unwanted guest a Cockroach

Copyright © Kable Brown | Year Posted 2012

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All thanks to William Wordsworth, one of our greats

I wandered in my kitchen round
floating high on cocaine broaches
all at once guess what I found
a nest of golden cockroaches 
inside the stove, beside the fridge
singing and dancing on every ridge

Continuous gold in costumes fine
eyes a-twinkling;  looks of gay
parades in never-ending lines
the bug-stards out in full array
ten thousand I would estimate
with spindly legs on roller skates 

They weaved and waved in glorious tune 
to Bug Stars' hit "We're wild and free"
well good to make a poet swoon
to hear such perfect harmony
I gazed in wonder at this troupe
outdoing any pro rock group

Skilled crooners crooned while chorus girls
in-sync tap-tapped and showed slim knee 
with hoops and loops and swirls and twirls
each pitch they met with practiced ease
involuntarily I swayed 
blew air kisses in accolade 

Now oft in bed when sleep eludes
in vacant and depressive mode
their scrabble on my mind intrudes
as on my food their sh-t they load
and then my heart with rue is stocked
cocaine's a bug-ger!! I'll smoke my socks!!


Copyright © delysia hendricks | Year Posted 2013

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This looks like jump to me

You are a cockroach

you are a big cockroach crawling up a pegboard
the kitchen light suddenly shines
and you must get through to the other side
but testing every evenly spaced hole you find
your shoulders will never fit
and to get away you've got to fall.

or refuse to crawl and wait motionless
until inspiration with an overview filters through
or you die of hunger, lack of love, fear of death
or the outlandish hands of another angry animal
with a wisdom wiser
but infinitely useless as your own.

so you die. but now the big hands are gentle
and you receive a respite of thoughtlessness
and the garbage grave has warm chicken bones
and you don't care what happens to you
or the oldest species of proud recalcitrant insects
or procreating it or foraging a grubby kitchen sink

for food. the joy of making life is new. let go,
and through the night be carried carelessly along.

Copyright © Robert Ronnow | Year Posted 2015

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Eight furry legs
Approaching black blob


Periplaneta americana 
Out of planet, preys on women's tuxedo
Blob of fat, smell, monster


Gunslinger, sniper


A junkyard
Sepulcher of machines




A baby lizard
Drops on my hand
Check in


Pay your bill today before 12 noon.


Ramp up, folks
Security with a squeeze
A point of no return


Critter in your bed
No ******


Dijon mustard,light mayonnaise 
Finely  ground black pepper, ketchup
finely grated love- red as fire


Bait on a hook
Plop, 0.001 second

Puti: a small fish found in shallow water. 
I have caught many Puti fishes in my childhood
and eaten whole deep-fried.


Eyes, a nest
Birdies singing
In hair golden moon


Turn on
Turn off


My cellphone is not loyal
It barks at me
And bites when my wife takes over


Always busy
To save me from the city nymphs
Does not know I have kept one in my wallet


In trellises
As cacophonous as a hen yard


Blow your air out
I am not a balloon


Doctor Hale
How do I look ?
Prestocaullocystectomically good


She is the smallest
No pips, wafer thin apparel
Naked in my mouth, sweetest


I am scared of 
These three sisters
I don't know their whereabouts

Wendy and Brahms
They could be twins
But socio-genetic wardrobe-dysfunction

Concentrate on this word
Concentrate concentrate
Anything? You need Marcos

My mother
My soul my beloved
My daughter my son friends poetrysoupers

My wife's territory
A tigress' den
They'll get bones on platter if I enter


Rhythm of her breathing
A dying fall

I don't like cheese
They are like bubblegum
Friends, I wink at the camera

Geodesic domes
Under Phoebes and Demos
The spear of God Mars

Black canvas
Georges Seurat

White concavity
Food for Gods
We give birth, **** erect,mom

She dropped a pen
I lifted the pen
She lifted fire

La Gioconda 
Did you love anybody?
Dis you smile?

A  jolt of laughter
A jolt of electricity
We are baboons


Copyright © RAJAT KANTI CHAKRABARTY | Year Posted 2014

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Give a chance to live.
A chance to express my feelings and thoughts.
DOn't push me to the wall and crucify me
I have done not what others have not did.
You drag me a little and remember i am like 
The helpless cow that has no tail
Only its God chases away flies from its body.
With your sword mind so devilish and dangerous,
It fire breaks my thoughts as my tears fight to 
drop from my eyes.
Every memory of my experience brought a fresh wave of anger
Hurt and pains to my dying spirit.
Every one has a cockroach in his cupboard.
I could not have seen the sun come and the rain drop
Because of the mighty hands upon me.
Thunder may strike heavily, the wind might bring storm,
But i know i am helpless with no one beside.
We can coin things out within us.
Dont crucify me nor thrust me down the court yard,
Where i will be judge wrongly.
Give me a chance to live like a normal human
And take away this embarrassment from me.
You only need the sun when it snow 
Only know your lover when you let her go.
But i only need your hands to escape to freedom.
I wear uniform and you wear too.
i look beautiful in it and you look beautiful mr jailer.
Mr casting stone, fate works in a mysterious way
Tomorrow is pregnant and no one knows what is will bring forth.
YOu might be in my shoe 
And my help will elude you.
Give me a chance to live mr casting stone.

Copyright © john chizoba vincent | Year Posted 2014

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Racing Issues

Why are we the human race
rather than another extinguishing species?
Why not the human species
and not the cockroach race?
Why is human nature
intended as somehow superego natural
not within but faster than,
above beyond just nature?

Why is race,
inhuman embrace-conflicted context,
a qualitative noun,
stultifying stasis,
rather than a speeding verb
toward shared finish line
when everyone can win together
where no one fully wins apart?

Why is nature's race
not yet declared as one
Native Earth Tribe,
bicamerally endowed
to celebrate Earth's rhythmic ordination
of regenetic liturgy and syntax,
racing flowing veins
full-blooded diverse homes
of natural peace construction?

What happened to issue
as primal verb
when babies issued from progenitors
and words issued from mouths
and blood issued from wounds
and race issued from DNA's polycultures,
storytellers weaving diverse generative threads
remembering from whom and when we issue
back before human memory
in diastatic dreamy nest of RNA colors
rhythm rhyme dancing
permacultured racing comic co-operative opera.

Coincidental correlating races,
humane natural places,
issue forth to teach and humor
and recess back to learn and decompose
to mentor Nature's human radical solidarity race
rooted pace
secured by leaving none behind
and every living system ordained
to race redeeming issues
through singing flows of dancing waves
linked through all spacetime.

If race exponentially regenerates
intergenetic issues,
then this is more of a species relay race
during which boundary lanes
no more than trace and lace
our deep sea swimming synchrony,
blending genetic notes of freedom's harmony 
toward nature's unfinish-lined symphony.

Copyright © Gerald Dillenbeck | Year Posted 2015

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The After Effects

Swelling waters rage across the land; 
two foot, three, four…water-tantrum’s take their toll; 
capturing houses and cars.
The collection grows with every storm.
Tempests wage their war on unsuspecting trees and crops;
limbs whirl about the airways. frantically.

Four legged’s seek the higher ground for, safety’s sake; 
hurricane is a non-discriminatory beats; 
attacking everyone and everything in its path.
Whirling, swirling wind-tops, cut through land, neighborhoods, cities and forests; 
flinging debris like a child throwing a temper-tantrum.  
A spoiled brat in a rage.

Land will renew with time, cities will be re-built and birds will populate woods, 
forests and parks once again; provided that, 
hurricane tantrum does not repeat itself, too soon.
Nature’s children can be fussy and destructive to, 
people who upset the natural balance of things.
Everything that exists has a purpose; 
from the cockroach to the human.  
When each does it’s part, a balance is achieved.

Kill the rats off and the pests that feed off of them;
infect dogs, cats, livestock and even homes.
Frack-crack the earth’s crust-to-the-core and 
tectonic plates slide too far; 
carcinogens flood water and wetlands;
killing off billions of lives.  
Man, mammal, bird and fish…all gone.

Obliterate the trees and you obliterate oxygen; 
obliterate oxygen and you…extinguish all life.
The human beast has, an uncanny ability to do as,
they please; never considering the consequences of,
their actions.

It’s so easy to blame nature’s other children for,
human carelessness and mistakes;
Preaching about responsibility while avoiding it.

Copyright © M. L. Kiser | Year Posted 2014

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Queen to the Throne of Nations

A nation of interesting and laughing facts housing ‘backward never’ animals with three times more sheep to humans in its corners and the inventor of the selfie, attracting over 200 global settlers. A known city for cockroach racing has its native attempting the sale of another major one from a neigbouring nation. The link between Tasmania and clean air hits the peak in the world and the entire region is yet to negotiate with an active volcano A nation and a continent with nine out of every ten claimed by native vegetation. A home to the longest fence in the world and a direct opposite to South Africa in electricity tariff. Most identified with sports, selfish in the existence of the lungfish. Intoxicated with the addiction of gambling and having the world’s largest cattle station. A smiling land so prosperous and made is this mini-continent so rich and great.

Copyright © Funom Makama | Year Posted 2015

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Ode to the music

Lift me up to the sky by the notes 
Oh, flute by your captivating melodious tunes

Sing to my body and sing to my soul...

A lifeless journey is becoming meaningless
Let ears be the witness that it heard flawless
Beat your drums very hard on the sadness
And let this mind shed all its madness

Sing to my body and sing to my soul...

Let the salty tears flow in rhythm
Let the eyes shed its entire burden 
Let the neck move sideways at random
Make different pitches by using trombone

Sing to my body and sing to my soul...

I don't care whether you're near or far
So long as I hear a song on guitar 
Our childhood days I always remember
Running after butterflies or playing synthesizer

Sing to my body and sing to my soul...

When life plays with me Odle ay ee oo
My mind demands to hear Didge rid oo
Oh the cuckoos, O Nightingale come to my concert 
We shall play tonight violin and trumpet

Sing to my body and sing to my soul...

Cicada, cockroach and cricket 
Let us have a singing competition
Select your song and select your instruments
Banjo, bassoon, tuba, bagpipes, lute or clarinet

Sing to my body and sing to my soul...

Look at the sky and see those stars
They are strangers and they are far
In the restless nights they play for me on sitar
I sing with them by playing my guitar

Sing to my body and sing to my soul...

Copyright © M Asim Nehal | Year Posted 2016

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Across the white of table bread and yellow plated cheese
Upon the black fictitious grapes, it wheezes its disease
It crawls, its scrawny legs cluttering the revulsion's sight
Look at this nocturnal insect parading pride in pallid light

And so one, then suddenly a thousand more, and still more
From draw I thought secured, from every vessel held in store
The little beasts come dragging a gay appetite to the floor
And with so much resilience, so much flare, some would adore

But I, something in the hygiene of my upbringing, shudders me
With looming tragedy for this, a population depleted I see
By pest and pestilential tolerance, trembles me now with rage
That cockroach could destroy us, and rule the coming age.

Mutating from the fission and fusion that left us hopeless, bare
The fallout from divine grace, and this shimmering cold now here
What shall be our harvest, except the wintry white of fear
Nothing saps their resistance now, the cockroach is everywhere

Profile this, in every four thousand species plus, every size and shape
Four common species threatens our mortal dust, O wanton rape
Think you that their triumph shall not call from hell more tragic forms
To chew and shred and intoxicate the procreation of our norms

I hear the scratching of the spindly legs, see sick white chitinous wings
I am filled such foreboding of the plaques this evil brings
And we make boundaries with indifference, call them the species at risk
Forbid their public swatting, stomping, crushing them quick and brisk

O let me see the putrid gut inside, let me hear the crunch of flesh
Let me use the new insecticide to bomb them from behind the mesh
Splatter them where they fester, let us kill this insect by decree
What though some berate us, for we make a dark hole in ecology.   

Copyright © David Smalling | Year Posted 2010

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I wish I weren’t a cockroach, its no fun at all
People stomp on me, if they find me in the hall
I need to hide in gloomy spots, niches n crags
Arriving at your house, at times in grocery bags

I can not show my presence, during daylight hours
Food you drop while eating, no longer yours, it’s ours
Don’t blame me for squishy feelings, that you deplore
Clean up your bad habits, leaving edibles on the floor

Those wet n dirty clothes, you pile up in the corner
It’s where we meet and greet, a common roach agora
You pay an exterminator, to find out where we hide
Spreads insecticides, in hopes that we will die

You may kill some of us, but no matter how you try
For 300 million years: we know just how to survive
My cousins called German roaches, small n quick
Big ones in Florida, palmetto bugs, wow, that’s rich

We are a world wide, of that, there is no question
And when we multiply, it’s called an infestation
For all these eons, we continue to force our will
But now there is an ominous threat arising in Brazil

Someone uncovered that we’re a source of protein
As a food source, a menace certainly unforeseen
It seems they fry us in boiling cauldrons of oil
We become really crispy, guaranteed not to spoil

Well, that may finally do us in, a grim fatality
Being bred in the open and offered as a delicacy
Being boiled in oil, a fate that’s frightening to me
After considerable analysis, I want to become a flea

Copyright © John Arribas | Year Posted 2017

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My Adulterous cat

                            Meeni slept in bed with a big brown cockroach
                                  “It’s an adulatory, ", I went to broach
                                           She growled like panther
                                              "I love Mr. Gunther”
                            "Dad,go and  bum around Miss Apricot Poach”

Copyright © RAJAT KANTI CHAKRABARTY | Year Posted 2015

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The Dilettante Diaries: Avian Notes on the Sensate Slip Stream : The Silent War in 3 Acts: Pt1

“I am the Alpha and the Omega, the First and the Last, the Beginning and the End.”

The Dilettante Diaries: Avian Notes on the Sensate Slip Stream : The Silent War in 3 Acts

(Part 1)

Starlings singing songs 
rolling like jet ink marbles 
they soar across the skies, 
rise and fall
like broken strings 
of black pearls 
broken by 
dragon blunderbuss 
shot on slippery deck of 
Man-o-War Ship
A symphony in movements 
ebony specks 
waltz on the waves 
of a silent 
raging Tempest
the greater force behind
clouds invisible 
highly qualified, 
the strings 
like puppets,
for they are owned 
like everything else, 
nothing is really free
when you consider 
the figure behind  3 
always leading to 1,
the Alpha Omega,
this the point of 
the eventual great
Coming Undone

Freedom songs 
on the winds
held by godly hands unseen
they’re a symphony 
singing black notes
written on clouds
each day different stories
but you can rest assured bespoke 
by a greater teller of story
than say (just pick one), 
okay, Dostoevsky,
“Demons” but then again
not God, 
black buck shot 
flow on universal 
clean white page, the air 
it’s legs splayed on a 
pristine cumming-all-over big blue sky
arching against giant birds
dropping yellow-cake eggs
explosive climax
burnt cherry blossoms
clouds black, dirty greys
buildings are dregs
people kow-tow, they beg
Seppuku chosen above life in the end
while the World unaware keeps on bustling 
cockroach tribes walk nonchalantly 
on the Anthropocene timeline
and humanity once again closes it’s eyes 
blackbirds singing 
in the dead of night
take their sunken eyes
and learn to see, 
hearts murmurating they’ve seen
and the flock as one turn upwards 
and then as one 
they bomb dive

What stories pathological
connected in their 
avian heart’s murmuration
paradoxical dancing 
between dimensions of 
time lags in history
chirping effusively 
in the 
Sensate Slip Stream
Such frivolous 
innocent flocks 
wings flutter 
and spread wide
loud their gossip, no -
they murmurate and trill
they never mutter
they are unified
1 in their tribe
they fly watching
the kills

Territories and seasons
through needy greedy false idol
generations, they have flown
on the kiss of atomic clouds
cindering cloudy green 
they were fresh to eat 
as apples, their stories burnt
evaporated in mid-air battles
blood and wish bone
bitten blind and 
now ignoble 
borne on wings
out of Chernobyl
kissing radiating
innocent ocean ruptured
viral now through 
air and ocean storms
they fly on the back 
of the mother-of-all-mothers
so not the name of 
fair and blushing virgin girl
this avian metal Mother-named-f’er
Enola Gay 
dumped the biggest black trip 
Big Boy Fat Man stinking blaze
on the evaporated ascended 
dazed and amazed
oh petulant, fickle, ignorant
war mongering world 
who closed the blinds
turned their backs
put on their shades 

O dismal O dismal O dismal
Our daze 

(Lovejoy-Burton/September 2018)

1. Mass Animal Deaths 2018 and previous


3a. Dostoevsky's "Demons"

3b. The book/"The Possessed" (AKA "Demons"), Author: Fyodor Dostoevsky

Tara Busch - Tag

Laurie Anderson - The Beginning of Memory

Mac Miller - Avian

Copyright © Leanne Lovejoy-Burton | Year Posted 2018