Best Gnat Poems
Gnats, fruitflies, midges, black flies
What do you call them?
I call them pests.
Unwelcome guests
I call them demons from hell.
They fly past my face.
They go for my eyes.
Lucifer in disguise
They like my white screen
They’re like a bad dream
And they’re really no good
When they try for my food
Oh please go away
You devils so small
You MUST be gone
As summer turns into fall
I don’t want to see
You ‘round here again
Count your tiny selves warned
Go back whence you came
Go straight down the drain
A gnat is annoying my nose today.
She keeps coming back and landing on me.
She is fast.
Faster than my grabbing hand.
I am eating an apple.
Land on that!
I wait.
She does not respond.
A gnat with a mind of her own.
I may adopt her.
I can often use a good-thinking gnat.
In her honor, I have written the thinking gnat song.
Thinking gnat,
Thinking gnat,
You are smart.
You know where it’s at.
Thinking gnat,
Thinking gnat,
You are amazing.
Smarter than a bat.
Thinking gnat,
Thinking gnat,
You should run the country,
Just another fat cat.
I was sitting here today writing a poem in my little place,
When all of a sudden this gnat comes flying in my face.
I swatted once, I swatted twice, but he got away.
He was determined that he was going to stay.
My house is spotless…how did he get inside?
Gnats are a thorn in my side I can’t abide.
The gnats in Georgia are infuriating beyond belief.
Why did God create them just to give grief?
Their reason for living is to cause endless aggravation,
And my exclamations are just useless verbalization.
I’m going to get that little bugger if it’s the last thing I do.
He crossed the line- when in here he flew!
Teeth freed late of jaw
Catch feign vulture caw
Keep time with thumb gum massage.
Three jiggers to rinse
Fire stick of incense
Lifted induced camouflage.
Shirt off shorts glued on
Vision of futon
Once upon a time life rocked.
Tent wants repairing
Sirens shrill blaring
Dumpster score steel trigger cocked.
Yawn fingers through beard
Glance field-mates look weird
Two toe-touches old time's sake.
Fetally grounded
Mortally wounded
War's horrors too much to shake.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Written by Nancy Jones after an ok day at work on 8/24/11
Inspired by nette onclaud and her contest “Allouette”
In honor of Don and Donny and Dean and countless others whose long list of struggles now include poverty, health woes, homelessness, and extreme loneliness.
Donald Trump is an old Plutocrat
Living high on the hog like a gnat
But Disney was first
To notify Hearst
That Pluto's a dog, not a rat!
I was bitten by a gnat
Who didn't ask permission
I caught the little rascal
How dare he bite me?
I put him into a jar.
He made a big commotion.
So I put a stamp on jar.
Sent him to Carrie.
By: Joyce Johnson Came in 2nd
There was something about this place--
so terribly unknown,
and though I fancied its mystery
I felt so alone,
an old abandoned dock, a shady-- house on a hill--
the same wardrobe of twill, in this city of stone.
All the years, misplaced and dreary--
I notice the gnat,
fluttering neath the window pane;
it's wings timid and flat,
how lucky that creature would-- someday be--
so determined and free, a silencing splat.
Lovely, I thought, this quiet scene--
my flattened friend,
two legs still manoeuvring aimlessly,
the others embrace the end--
how simple and fragile--a finespun dust--
yet you I trust, but will not defend.
Four glass panels, light passing through--
a heavenly invite,
your ticket stamped for an eternity,
why continue on to fight?
why attempt to scramble--around and about--
for a God without, not an angel in sight.
I am your vigil, your watching eye--
I will, stand here and watch you die,
I count the minutes--till sweet release--
the sign from whom shall grant you peace,
yet no soul beckons, or heeds the call--
no one my friend, no one at all.
Nature is as careless as it is bountiful
The faster the death, the faster is evolution.
I, a female gnat ,eat my own fertile eggs,
When I am hungry while laying the eggs,
We, the gnats produce eggs within our body,
When I am hatched within the body
I devour my own parents.
The parents die, the next generation lives.
The sea is a cup of death
And land is a stained alter stone.
I am the fortunate survivor
Living on flotsam and jetsam.
Right or wrong is a human concept.
The nature cares not if I live or die
It is fixed, blind & programmed to kill.
===========================
For contest : Ode to the endangered
Gnawing gnat breaks through skin
Needle nose - spike now in
Agile, light, felt no pain
Taken blood, their feeding aim
Bites now swell and
Itch like hell
Tiny vampire
Eaten well.
Scratching, itching - skin unwell.
03.09.21
Don't be afraid - no need for that
Don't run away from Ogden Gnat
You won't be his supper tonight
He only wants to share the light
This mosquito intends no harm
He doesn't mean to cause alarm
Around you he flies only to look
At the funny poems in your book
I have the attention span of a gnat
At times not even as long as that
So I found some online training game
That is supposed to help train my brain
Not sure it worked before l lost focus
My muse came with hazel hocus-pocus
You’d think she’d gift me great poetry
But instead I write about silly little me
Maybe I will have a cup of peach tea
Start anew footloose and fancy free
The hour is so late that it is early so
Guess I’ll have breakfast before I go
for J.C. Alldridge
Full pummelling fisticuffs
Stitch over stitch
In and out
Imperceptibly kaleidoscopic
Swirling from ear to ear
Sporadic
Thrumming mystical notes
Notes of whisper
Whisper in the ear
Now a bothered swish of clawing
Cleaving slipping fingers
Immalleable rolling universal ball
Microcosmic needle into
Macrocosmic wool all
Silently thudding kneading pulling
Sealing a sin all opened unforgiven
Eternally whispering to a few
And never really heard
Pummelling sewing the invisible centre
Round and round the darkless sun
Only the end that began
Only a scratch and a bother
What bother to scratch
For scratching bothers
Bothers a scratch
Scratch and not to bother
Scratch Scratch Scratch
©: From: T. Wignesan - Paris, 1957 (from Tracks of a Tramp. Kuala Lumpur-Singapore: 1961; first pub. in "Forum Academicum", University of Heidelberg, 1957)
`
Hovering like a gnat that finds a face irresistible
Swatting frantically does no good as
insects will be insects and annoying is part of their plan
As it seems each day you find a new offering unfolding its wings,
buzzing about with your dirty laundry in tow,
as if poetry has become merely a tool to harass
Finding little folders to slide into…highlighting
each word of bin fodder, old but new
hoping for accolades in lemonade fashion
Funny how that works as hatred becomes the norm,
never letting go of that scent that attracts you…
whatever it is about the human aroma you find so pleasing
Perhaps it is that it will never be you,
oh little gnat of negative words seeking only attention,
lost within the deep confines of a posers petals
To ruin our summer fair, our poetic picnic in the sun
cannot happen for you see we are happy
in our own skin, with its wondrous fragrance…unlike you
`
Don't you just hate little pests that just fly around annoying people?
If I was a gnat I know whom I would bother
I would hide in their garbage disposal
flying up into their face when they ran water in their sink
I would hit them in the mouth, disgusting them
when I tired of being a gnat I would become a mosquito
buzzing in the ears of my enemies, biting them with gnarly teeth
in my smallness, I would finally get the revenge I seek
The Cat in a Hat
sat on a mat
(the mat was flat)
when
Pat a bat
who was fat
(a flying rat)
chasing a gnat
(the gnat went zzzat)
dropped in
(splat!)
for a chat
(what a brat)
but
(tit for tat)
was told to scat
imagine that!
(Moral of the story: Uninvited unwelcome)