Best Roaches Poems

#1
"It is a sin to kill a Mockingbird.
While playing games with rocks or guns, defray,
them, please, ...shoot old tin cans.  Each whispered song 
from...

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She was always there 
     with her big green eyes
Looking up at me 
     and into the...

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The poet Marshall Mathers
whilst "Cleaning Out My Closet"
blasted with inquiry-

"Have you ever been hated on or discriminated against?
I have...''

Interesting enough
in these crooked times
it is impossible...

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Everybody, and his brother
Stopped in, at one time, or another
Not for the greasy hash browns
Or the coffee, with a half a cup, of grounds
They weren't...

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Soft silhouettes sashay by my window
Grievingly gazing out unto a world of which you may never know
Linen curtains briefly ruffled in the breeze
Old drunken Julius...

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I love my house

It's simple and clear

I clean up the clutter and wash the dirty wares 


I sweep floors

Wipe the knobs on the doors

Brush away...

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Fond of the Koalas and scared of the roaches
                ...

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Howard Marks and God Almighty
Shared a spliff, and had a whitey
Then had the munchies, and a bong
Annoying Peter with the pong
By which time it was...

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On the poor side of the city,
there’s an innocent child crying.
The rats and roaches are crawling,
on the bed where he lies dying.

There’s a family of...

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`

I opened the rusted iron gateway
bound in chain and wire, to find a landing
caked in muddied footprints, scattered about like roaches
Magpie shadows course the rain...

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If flies in our sleep is meat
Ketchup-ing all we can eat,
But I’m warning you, you have to be fast.
Grab a plate quickly, when the die...

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This forsaken house seems haunted
filled with shifting shadowed realms
that change from splayed moonlight
Silent are the steps once taken
through the rusty hinged cobweb-covered doors
that hang like...

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This poem is about how I feel the world has betrayed at most every turn.

I received my awakening,
About the age of three,
Too young for understanding,
Of...

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fifty years
this house stood against
the tide of generations
leaving in its wake
lizards and roaches 

still weaker
we wield hammers
and peer at each other
through glass windows

the masks went...

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Oh yes! Poetry is still alive and well,
And in these modern times a poet may tell
By picking up any near-by pen
To express the beauty felt...

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