Best Louse Poems
I must give you a very stern warning:
Don’t ever call me at three o’clock in the morning.
You certainly have some unencumbered effrontery.
Why at such an inconvenient time do you want to pester me?
Normal people find the time to sleep at that hour.
How would you like to take a sulfuric acid shower?
I know where you live, and I will come over to your house.
An ingrate like you is the personification of a louse.
My love said to meet him at three
where steaks were the best that could be,
the chophouse.
I waited a long time and then
checked his firm before searching in
the courthouse.
Maybe drinks with clients for biz?
I checked a fave place for this, his
posh clubhouse.
Nothing, was he up to no good
somewhere no man does as he should -
the dollhouse?
There, I saw my beau kiss Miss Snow
so now he is found in Fido's
cold doghouse.
Strong as stone, monotone, tremendous woman;
Muscles of steel, well veneered bulk stature, ( You go girl)
Keeper of a strong will in a race runs faster
She’s a lot, don’t need a man;
Big as an amazon, she ain’t no louse;
She’s full grown, and as her story told ain’t fraid of no mouse
Nor scared of no living or dead man cuz ya see she’s a brick house
She standing on the cliff, faced in a haystack where the needles at
Her voice is in the cloud, conversations from the black-berry
She can lick any man in hand to hand combat, she ain’t no louse, she’s a brick house;
7/30/19
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2019©
Written for project North Omaha Writer’s Group assignment 2019©
I have something in my house
Worse than a big squeaky mouse
It is mean and full of hate
I don't think it was my fate
For this creature to be here
I need to make it disappear
This object I am speaking of
Is a louse who can not love
There is no romance or spark
In the light or even dark
I thought he was mister right
Falling in love at first sight
But I was wrong on many levels
He's worse than a hellish devil
I have tried to make him see
I can be hot and sexy
But he turns his head and leaves
I am starting to believe
There is someone else out there
Who's getting all his love and care
If I find proof of this he's dead
He'll no longer have a "head"
Between his legs cause I will chop
Every bit off and wont stop
Until there is nothing there
He can use again to tear
My heart apart any longer
He is weakened, I am stronger
To a Louse
by Robert Burns
translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
Hey! Where're you going, you crawling hair-fly?
Your impudence protects you, barely;
I can only say that you swagger rarely
Over gauze and lace.
Though faith! I fear you dine but sparely
In such a place.
You ugly, creeping, blasted wonder,
Detested, shunned by both saint and sinner,
How dare you set your feet upon her—
So fine a lady!
Go somewhere else to seek your dinner
On some poor body.
Off! around some beggar's temple shamble:
There you may creep, and sprawl, and scramble,
With other kindred, jumping cattle,
In shoals and nations;
Where horn nor bone never dare unsettle
Your thick plantations.
Now hold you there! You're out of sight,
Below the folderols, snug and tight;
No, faith just yet! You'll not be right,
Till you've got on it:
The very topmost, towering height
Of miss's bonnet.
My word! right bold you root, contrary,
As plump and gray as any gooseberry.
Oh, for some rank, mercurial resin,
Or dread red poison;
I'd give you such a hearty dose, flea,
It'd dress your noggin!
I wouldn't be surprised to spy
You on some housewife's flannel tie:
Or maybe on some ragged boy's
Pale undervest;
But Miss's finest bonnet! Fie!
How dare you jest?
Oh Jenny, do not toss your head,
And lash your lovely braids abroad!
You hardly know what cursed speed
The creature's making!
Those winks and finger-ends, I dread,
Are notice-taking!
O would some Power with vision teach us
To see ourselves as others see us!
It would from many a blunder free us,
And foolish notions:
What airs in dress and carriage would leave us,
And even devotion!
One Sunday while sitting behind a young lady in church, Robert Burns noticed a louse roaming through the bows and ribbons of her bonnet. The poem "To a Louse" resulted from his observations. The poor woman had no idea that she would be the subject of one of Burns' best poems about how we see ourselves, compared to how other people see us at our worst moments. Keywords/Tags: Robert Burns, louse, church, bonnet, lace, lady, insect, insects, animal, clothes, clothing, hair, body, society, funny, Scotland, Scots, dialect, translation
Louse Minded
spinning wildly,
my mind's a madhouse,
going into thought
and racing all about
nothing's too sane within
the brain of a numbed louse
7-6-09
Form:
The Cat in the Hat came back a while ago
But the costume he wore to vroom the pink snow
Made him look like an extra in a cheap minstrel show
So that cat was pure toast; he just had to go...
Little Bo Beep has been put to sleep
Haven't you noticed? Not one black sheep
And Old King Cole, stripped of his royal role
For culturally appropriating merry old 'soul'...
As for Rocky the Squirrel and His Friends
They've met an untimely end
For mocking two good Communist spies Boris and Natasha "Badenov"
Rocky and Bullwinkle surely will die...
With sorrow, I inform you of the demise
Of Clark Kent, whom fans came to despise
For resisting the advances of one Lois Lane
'Course had he succumbed, he'd have been killed just the same...
And shed no tears for the 'Mighty Mouse Playhouse'
For 'Mighty' was a real louse of a mouse
He thought some characters good, others evil
Thereby denying relativism -- How terribly medieval!
First he gets three shoes; none of them mates.
And my yesterday's steak on a blue dinner plate.
I will throw in a wet towel to make sure his clothes mold.
Am I being diabolical? No. Just a tiny bit cold.
He is going on vacation to sit in the sun.
I want to make sure to spoil most of his fun.
Why he cannot pack himself one way or another
I truly blame on his overbearing indulgent sweet mother.
In goes an onion, to play havoc with his underwear.
I have dyed them pink too, to show that I care.,
In goes a tiny mouse I found, and a cracker so pure.
I know he'll have a great time now, oh yes, for sure!
dirt head with full hair
natural garden for lice
live on the red wine
18.06.2020 Chattogram
I feel like a louse
Roger needs me there
He hates the loneliness
I really do care
He wants a companion
I cannot be the won
Myself and my children
Cannot replace his only son
I am locked in my own world
Inside is where I put the latch
To keep my children and me safe
So the angst of the world we don't catch
I know it seems selfish
Even cruel at times
But I need enough energy for my children
Please, God, give me a sign
She’s a cat and I’m a mouse;
In my hair, she’s a louse!
She’s the boss of the house;
By mistake, she’s my spouse!
Her nature, then, I was unaware;
Her torture, now, I no longer bear!
My relation, with her is beyond repair;
I say all this, when I’m in utter despair!
Isn’t it common in every domicile?
Towards me, she’s never hostile!
Irresistible is her pleasant smile;
Minus her, I live not for a while!
She does this all to set me right;
Her one hug makes me fly like a kite!