Best Swatter Poems
Harassing me for days now
Landing on my eyelid
Nosing up my nostril
Tickling my ankles
and every other exposed body part
Little bastard...
Fly-Swatter? Jack be nimble, Jack...
Folded bath towel? (Lamp destroyed)
Raid? Sprayed til I sneezed and choked
and had to quickly retreat outside
(I may have poisoned myself)
Little bastard...
Last night it buzzed me awake
I injured various body parts
(Bloody nose, ruptured eardrum)
Little bastard...
I want to murder it
I want to assassinate it
but I want to capture it first
pull off it’s puny little wings
and watch it scramble on the floor
all the while crawling behind
laughing, shouting and jeering
'How you like THEM apple peelings?'
before I jump to the ceiling (Boink)
before I stomp and then grind
in a mad and homicidal rage
Little bastard...
Epilogue:
Whew! I’m feeling pretty okay now
The medication helps immeasurably
I know now why they’re called Asylums
They are refuge from a brutal environment
a world dominated and controlled by---Bssst!!
Little BASTARD...
Categories:
swatter, angst, insect,
Form:
Light Verse
Written: March 5, 2012
Updated: March 11, 2012
Listen to nurse's report including the news
that Joe and Wilma like each other.
Check all rooms and find that Roger is out of his bed
and down on the floor again.
(Hip not broken yet.)
Answer Wanda's light to calm her justified paranoia
because she knows that she is somewhere other
than her home but just can't figure out where that is.
Answer Jeremy's light to help him sip his water
while he giggles at his favorite T.V. show.
Accept his thanks and feel your heart break again to see a
45 year old man who can no longer control his limbs be so
appreciative of such a small act of kindness...big act of kindness.
Check on Jack even though he doesn't turn on his light
because you hear suspicious noises coming from his room.
Help Jack to bed after you find him swatting an
imaginary fly with an imaginary fly swatter.
Try to re-position Emma so that she is comfortable
even though her limbs are fetal-position frozen.
Kindly lie to yourself about her comfort so that you can
control your guilt when leaving the room.
Go into Jackie's room when she starts her usual screaming
that "she doesn't want to be here, and her family hates her
and that's why she's here."
Kindly lie to her and control your shame because you know that
what she is saying probably is true.
Answer ex-model Mabel's light and listen to her story about
how she could have married Groucho Marx, but that she married
her true-love instead.
Feel a sense of sad pride when Anna proudly explains to you
how she keeps track of her day by tracking her activities as she
would have for patients when she was a nurse.
Keep taking care of and giving these people (not patients)
love every chance that you get.
Gail's notes: Portrait of Joe and Wanda is the sequel to this. To protect the privacy of those who have lived before us, the names have been fictionalized, and the events semi-fictionalized.
Categories:
swatter, caregiving, life, people, light,
Form:
List
To prove we haven’t given up,
We order things online
Since objects meant for future use
Imply that we are fine.
A sweet dessert, a case of beer
Or scotch or gin or wine
Can elevate our kitchen meals
To ones at which we dine.
Some nitrile gloves, a spiffy mask
Of chic and cool design
Remind us that to safety
While in style we can incline.
A buzzing insect’s gotten in?
To Amazon, assign
The sending of a swatter
So that fly will toe the line.
For every penny that we spend
Is proof that we still pine
For a future that our purchases
May somehow thus define.
Categories:
swatter, future,
Form:
Rhyme
dragons fly
burning fodder
land hoe.
sea gulls fly
over water
"Land Ho!"
pesky fly
dodging swatter
"Land! Ho!"
deborah burch©
4/11/2012
Categories:
swatter, funny, life, nature,
Form:
Haiku
Eye knew it
The dirty fly has compound eyes
It sees in all directions
A swatter swats it anyway
So much for eye protection
Randomling Contest August 30, 2015
Categories:
swatter, humor,
Form:
Rhyme
Little Miss Poet, Sat at her computer, typing the morning away.
Along came a spider, climbed down her screen, and frightened Miss Poet away.
Little Miss Poet, fell on her duff, as she tripped, backwards over the dog.
When she got up, the spider was smart, and ran into the keyboard.
Low and behold, the fly swatter wouldn’t work, for the spider was safely below.
The spider peaked out, eyeing her as if in a huff, as Miss Poet jumped up and down.
With murderous intent, she flipped over the keyboard, and bounced it up and down.
Just at this point, the spider jumped out and scurried, with his life in his hands.
But the damage was done, the keyboard was unplugged, and terror reigned again.
Little Miss Poet, would have to crawl under the desk, to where the wires began.
There was no doubt, she’d switch to wireless now, but here that was a mute point.
She knew the spider was there, but hidden somewhere, in the stuff on top of her desk.
Little Miss Poet, crawled under the desk, checking and fixing, every wire and plug.
When she came out, there was no spider about, so both relief and worry set in.
As Little Miss Poet, looked down and around, the spider appeared on her arm.
With a scream and a jump, she flicked him off, and tripped over her chair this time.
Unfortunately for this one, the problem wasn’t done, so she attacked jumping forth.
The spider jumped free, but her toe was in need, as her foot connected with the desk.
A few words were uttered, as she jumped around, with foot held high in the air.
Broken toe or not, she vowed to get that snot, so she shouted for her hubby’s help.
He was down stairs, with the trolls you know, and couldn’t seem to come up.
So she swatted with flair, as the spider jumped back, yes, into the keyboard.
At that moment, a Troll walked by with a club , and decided to help her out.
Everything smashed, the problem solved, she sat down at her sons’ computer spot.
Tears in her eyes, at her computers demise, Poor Little Miss Poet, began to write.
This computer was next, to the one from before, and the spider was there, again!
Yep, you guessed, in the keyboard he sat, staring and more pissed than ever before.
The moral my friend, is that you can’t always win, even on a peaceful, beautiful morn.
Little Miss Poet, finally limped away, retreat was the better answer, by far.
PS. This happened, without the Troll, of course.
Categories:
swatter, adventure, computer, fantasy, funny,
Form:
Light Verse
CHILDREN OF LAHORE
(Easter Sunday 2016)
Arms flailing
From
Her
Blue burka,
The woman
Jumps
Like a checkerboard
Piece
Up and over
The white squares
Of bedsheet
To bedsheet
To bedsheet
Each
Draped
Over a
Red blossom
Bump
Lumped
And soaked on
The gravel dust
Fairground
Floor.
Like a game of peekaboo
Between mother and baby,
The woman
Lifts
A corner of sheet
Howls
Then pins it back
With her fingernails
And just as quickly
Jumps
To the next
Small
Square
Hump-covered
Sheet
Lifts
Repeating
The move
Three hundred
More
Times.
“Ibrahim!
Ibrahim?”
A police officer puts her in handcuffs.
No, her husband
Is tackling her.
Actually,
She is a fly swatter
Crazed, swinging at new yellow ghosts.
She
Tears
Her hair
Out
From the back of her head
Like overgrown grass
Grabbed
From a mud puddle
In clumps
Clamped
In her garlic-laced fists,
Even the dirt is surprised,
Hanging
By its bloody roots,
Dripping
In the air.
That is what a bomb, does.
She was a mother
An hour before,
Before she lost her shoes,
While she sat to the side, chatting
With friends
On a bench
As the Merry-Go-Rounds
Went round and round
And round
In the safe distance
And the painted horses
Panted
In the yellow dust.
The children stood in line,
Waiting their turn,
Sharing candies
From pockets and purses,
Checking time
From their phones.
The mother’s shoes
Were spooked
Away
Like fish behind a glass
At the moment
Of the hot flash and swish.
That man,
Yes
He knocked on the glass,
He knocked on the glass,
He pressed his narrow face
As he peered in,
Yes,
He knocked on that glass
Just before
He pulled the cord
Wrapped
Round his waist.
Oh, beautiful God
How could you allow this?
How could
Even the Devil
Do it?
Only a man.
Only a man
Of unfaith,
Of course,
Could smother the sunlight, like that,
Blowing to smithereens
A playground full of children.
Categories:
swatter, bereavement,
Form:
Free verse
The Irritating Fly
The irritating fly zoomed round the room
Not stopping anywhere as I planned its doom.
It flew up and down, and buzzed round and round,
Pestering me with that annoying sound.
It zipped by the window and hummed by the door
Then it buzzed back around the room once more.
I picked up a spray, taking careful aim
But that relentless fly buzzed just the same.
I chased it with swatter, I chased it with spoon,
The end of that fly was going to be soon.
It zoomed round the kitchen and buzzed round the hall,
It flew round the ceiling and settled on the wall.
A well aimed swipe then a sudden splat;
For that irritating fly, that was that.
Barry Stebbings
31/05/2016
Entered into Contest, 'Just Make Me Laugh.'
Sponsored by Christine Lehman.
Categories:
swatter, flying, humor, insect, sound,
Form:
Couplet
wire and plastic
so fantastic
probably the first real
weapon we'll use
wire attached to
plastic mesh
made specifically
for flying pest
yet rarely this rule
is abused
the fly swatter
which is commonly known
ironically shares it's name
one an organation fighting crime
the other it's plan to maim
the fly is a creature
that constantly annoys
buzzing in our ears
that incestant noise
when it lands
it lands on your face
when your sleeping
it's some other place
then at dinner
there's that one lone fly
constantly circleing the table
waiting to light just for a bite
where to swat i am not able
they know we're watching
they know it's war
they know about the swatter
and what it's uesd for
sometimes a tool
sometimes a toy
sometimes it's serious
and sometimes it's enjoyed
one fly can fly and hide
a dozen swings or so
it knows it's being hunted
yet and still it refuses to go
it's not a game it's a war
i might kill hundreds
outside on the porch
the deadly device
doesn't think twice
about life or what it's getting
no gun or sword could claim
the lives the swatter
claims by just hitting
we have what we need
to enjoy the hunt
a clear concious agreed
that death is a must
a mission at the dinner table
or sport on the porch
the death of a fly
is a good report
a special weapon and tactic
to be deployed
wire and plastic
from the annoyed
Categories:
swatter, bullying, dark,
Form:
Blank verse
I said the fly, "Have the need to pry,
my best point of view is your ceiling.
There I can spot any swats your concealing.
Us flies still can not understand why,
you humans find swatting so appealing?
Have you not wonder why wasps try
to build nests in your ceiling,
why female mosquitoes bite, why?
Okay, some facts I am revealing:
As a fly we need you to die,
as food for our babes before pupating.
So we contaminate your food, well try.
We die quite soon after procreating!
Wasps, as you might know, are not a fly,
but their sting is also to food relating.
Used also as a defence, a sting to defy.
“Shush, my human out loud ruminating,
So while I can I'll buzz you goodbye"!
Swish, gee that fly is so frustrating!
Next time with a bigger net I'll be waiting!
No, I'm not a fly swatter, but you'll still
hear me shout out when I net it, a very
loud, 'GOTCHYA'!
My first personification, buzzin!
Categories:
swatter, nonsense,
Form:
Personification
Some say I'm arrogant, the rest say I'm cocky,
But the funniest thing is that no one said it right to me,
They talk behind my back like it has at least one ear,
And as soon as I turn around they all disappear,
Its just my confidence, is there something wrong,
Well if yes the wrongs make me very strong,
I'm just being me, impersonating myself,
Too bad you can't be me, the copier is high on the top shelf,
I’m high on my pedestal, high on my own stool,
Looking down at you all, you all my students welcome to my school,
To be like me you have to keep a straight A average,
Doing extra credit just to get some leverage,
I isolate myself from all you fake people,
Solitary confinement, as I strengthen and you weaken,
All you want to be is fly with some huge swag,
Where's my fly swatter? Oh its right here in my bag,
Just sit and watch as I SWAT all you flies,
Special Weapons And Tactics, then everyone dies,
They say only monkeys are cute, then call me the ape,
Roaming through the jungle to find my female primate,
As I look in my palm, there I see the world,
Then I scan through it all to find the perfect girl,
I search the globe to find her, I wasted my time,
When there she was under my nose, now she's mine,
She's at my level, and we all know that's far,
And I'll search the world again to find you, where ever you are......
Categories:
swatter, introspection, uplifting, visionary, me,
Form:
Ode
I can see him clearly in my
head.
He's a fragmented image
against the wall.
Like a fly beneath the swatter.
His voice, I hear, makes my
skin crawl.
Sometimes I wonder why I
even bother.
Sometimes I'd rather not live at
all.
He's a figment brought to you
by delusions.
He's only real to me.
He'll never reveal himself to
you.
His echoes cause contusions.
He only speaks to me.
He'll never talk to you.
His voice brings me
convulsions.
He's a danger to me.
He's a danger to us all.
Get him out of my head.
Help me now.
This very well could be the end.
He wants things to die down
now.
Get him out of my head.
He's my imaginary friend.
Categories:
swatter, absence
Form:
ABC
The Flies and the Bees
The sun has risen and set; another season has been resolved
and many acts of aggression that might never be absolved
No podium will be awarded for the deletion of kick the can
Unfortunately, we all now see, the true measure of that man
There are bees and there are flies, both buzz around the skirt
The bees work hard for honey, but the flies just love the dirt
Bees help pollinate, they make our world thrive and grow
Flies are filthy creatures that crave and lust for guano
Bees are essential for life, without them we all would die
Unfortunately, that’s not the case for the nasty little fly
The bee is well respected and works to save our land
The fly is just a nuisance, so keep your swatter close at hand.
Categories:
swatter, analogy,
Form:
Rhyme
december fly buzzing by
how on earth did you survive
frozen cold outside
snow drifts waist high
how are you alive
december fly
december fly buzzing by
my naps slumber you deny
bzzz bzzz bzzz
over my head you whiz
how i wish you dead
but you wing me instead
hovering over my naps bed
december fly
why why oh why
are you still alive
nasty noisy naughty december fly
december fly buzzing by
erasing my afternoon lullaby
happily you swoosh by
dive bombing my tired eyes
waving hands, a moan and sigh
up i slouch sitting on the couch
swing a pillow at the nasty fellow
december fly now you hide
peace and quiet now reside
i know your game so coy and sly
mean so mean december fly
i place the swatter on the coffee table
i recline to rest feeling able
if he dares awaken me again
i'll swing and swat the life out of him
beware december fly
this very afternoon you die
but a yawn and pillow soft
i again nod off
BZZZZZZZ!!!!
SWAT!
the portrait of our dear aunt bernice
now has a smashed fly in her teeth
hope i clean it after i finish my rest
could be a story for our evening guest
sweet dreams and goodbye
in deep winter no longer alive
rest in pieces little december fly
Categories:
swatter, december, funny, repetition, sleep,
Form:
Rhyme
holy diluted cold water
did you see that there
its, little grandma mini
streaking, in her Sunday's best
tighty-whitie underwear
come on now
lets catch her quick
before, she completely lose it
or she strips right out of her
JCpenney sundaies brand new underwear
oh! my, someone get grandpa
well! I think he's still in the Crapper
grandpa, just sitting on the can
hold-en a beer in one hand
and a fly swatter in thee other
say-en she come home
when she good, and ready
or she gets mighty hungry
so we grab a sheet
off the old washing line
and dash left to the right
right to the left right down
the old dirt street
lucky for me and cousin Jeb
her old knee injury slowed her down
made her stop
and take a breath
we all most had her
but dam if she isn't
faster than catfish
trying to jump off the line
she moved so fast
it looked like she was
doing movements
in movie time
like some kind of ninja
but after 20 minutes
me and cousin jeb
just sat down in the grass
and grandma just laugh
and the moral of the story is
if grandma goes a streaking
wait 20 minutes before
you go a seek-en
and happy de va ju
to you too...
(a tribute to Jeff Foxworthy)
Categories:
swatter, black african american, caregiving,
Form: