Infestations Poems | Examples


List of Member Poems

When a cockroach approaches

From bathroom pipes, kitchen sinks
From inside cabinets, drain and sewer points
The cockroach approaches in a flash of time.

Once sighted, woman gets scared and yelp
A chance for the brave husband to help
And to flaunt his bravery and might. 

Seizes the broom sitting at the corner
When the brave man comes with the broom
The sly cockroach is already lost from sight

The brave man hits at every nook and corner 
Misses the target, and the mission to kill, fails
Leaves his wife in utter despair and anger.

Finds the pest below the cot and hits it hard 
The cockroach struggled but did not die
 Broom snaps, pest flees without a trace

Nastiest pest, nocturnal in habit
The insect at its best at night
Rarely surfaces in broad daylight
Finds escape routes to hide from sight.

The insect loves and lives in grime and filth
 Ill at ease in open space and broad daylight 
Always in hiding and  retreating to dark

Pale tan , reddish brown, glossy dark to  black 
Shades of repulsive colours, gross to look
Notorious for infestations and spreads diseases
Now hogging limelight in media discourse.

Premium Member Frality Factor

Time place
scope and space
recover planning with
hazmat desires
actions by dissent 
proportions to unoutcomes
serial deliverance by
traveling non neural pathways
around psycho resilience via 
domestico-dysfunshun 
huma huma incestations fielding
familial inbred infestations
leading to blind intonations thereby
catapulting negative Ego equations.
Can we abide by selfless endeavors?

Premium Member Pioneer of Propaganda

Well! sycophantic misanthropist, verbose agitator of spite
Club footed whore master, couldn’t goose step for his life
Malicious propagandist, spreading hatred in every breath
His wife willing disciple, poisoned their 6 children to death 

Demanding patriotic nationalism, big speech carcinogenic
Snickers in vehemence, sardonic grin, genocidal eugenics 
Never dirtying his hands, an aryan superstar, not by blood 
Master race aspirational, looks into the mirror then shrugs

Doctor of nihilistic supremacy, swearing hypocritical oaths
5 ft 4” gigantic paradigm, inferiority complex, slow growth 
Promising victory up to the last, faithful to his fuhrers flag
Cowers from nearby artillery, blasting Swastikas into rags

Hiding amongst his sewer rats, goes insane down a bunker 
Mixing morphine with champagne, to alleviate going under 
Saved the best cocktail for last, cyanide and bullet casings 
Fitting end to crawling malaise, and cockroach infestations. 

 
Biting Satire Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Edward Ibeh
24/02/2021


Third Class To the Moon

ps. is it at The End that giants have no fear of shrinking,
     do giants mostly sit and rest on their giant chairs,
     then hunt like a dancing gypsy elephant.

 Governments promoting good paying jobs, (not Calif.,Texas, etc.)
boosts the economy,
governments promoting low paying volunteer jobs,
attacks a developed economy,
add to that,
your smelly, filthy big feet,
and you end up with a less amount of small town hospitals open,
due to big foot infestations,
quit destroying our hospitals,
quit attacking our economy with your big foot army,
wait a minute,
where did our infrastructure go,
oh I see,
when you say infrastructure spending,
you mean big city infrastructure spending,
big foot infrastructure,
from the big foot bank,
well then,
start loading " The Threes " on the back of the truck,
like a Mexican taxi,
then take them to the big city for " treatment ",
and don't forget the attitude adjustment,
you don't want to have to do any informative talking,
what kind of maniac sets the stage on new worlds.

Premium Member This Summer, As Ever

This summer, as ever, there's much to do.
But only one or two things I want to do.

I told Alan that, like him, I'm never bored.
But today, like a teenager, I'm both tired and bored.

The long expanse of summer stretches forward. Alan plans
the next 2 years in advance, always moving forward. I can't plan

the next 2 hours, sitting on my ****, undecided whether
to clean the house, make a list of prospective donors, or check the 5-day
      weather

forecast. Fires out west, hurricanes south, drought here
in the east where the garden phlox withers and the corn's stunted. We
      hear

prophecies of armageddon, doom, but humans may go on another
      thousand, million or billion years
undaunted. What is that to you. A day alone in your room and a year

are inexplicable. Now and then a vacation, baseball game, night of love.
A divorce, a death, a drouth. To survive and prosper we must love

all of it, insect infestations and world wars, cloud curlicues and square
      dances, work
and weekends off. Knowing the unknowable = never knowing how the
      world works.

Let My Beetles Go

LET    MY   BEETLES   GO ! !

And  it came to pass
That a lone beetle was crying
In the wilderness, alas,
After many years trying

To release all the beetles around
From the misery of slaving  -
Building a great ant-hill mound.
(For the ants, a great time-saving ! )

And he warned the ant-king
That his beetles must be freed
From the bondage of working
Because of the ant-king’s greed

“Let my beetles go !” he said;
But the king hardened his heart,
“They’ll work till they’re dead. . .
When this mound’s done, another will start.”

Then plagues - small, great, some worldbeaters,
Were sent  -  ant footrot,  antshell-itis,
And infestations of hungry ant-eaters.
The king said, “How great your God’s might is !”

. . . and he let the beetles go.


Pawpaws

Autumn’s rumor
is spread in turning trees,
revealed like stains
on hems
of far Missouri hills.

Few search
or care or know
your soft fruit—
few dare taste
tart sweetness—
trouble
to spoon aside
infestations
of seeds.

Like seasons,
they go to waste—
not savored,
unused, unappreciated—
burled relatives,
overripe pawpaws
past remembering,
lingering
as age spots of early fog
on winter’s 
stern harvest.

Embedded

I ran a scan for infestations
looking to rid all the complications

the viruses through my heart still course
the heartaches and their remorse

the scan says all herein is clean
I think it's wrong...that's what I believe

or it's embedded way too deep
I know it's there I feel it seep

Mr. Bedbug

There is currently an increase in bedbug infestations 
due to an increase in foreign travel.
Bedbugs, hide during the day to feast at night.

They inject an anticoagulant into their host 
to keep its blood flowing as the insect feeds, 
as well as an anesthetic agent 
to keep the host from feeling the bite.

A number of products can control bedbugs 
but the difficult part is finding the bedbugs 
so that they can be effectively treated.

Due to bedbugs desire to avoid light 
and fondness for tight spaces
they are often difficult to detect.

However political campaigns 
are always  a good starting place 
in finding such blood-suckers.

Flinging Poems Into Wind

We seine them up
like dust
in pollen-stained hands,
briefly weight them,
balancing them in minds,
determining worth,
profundity. 

And like those before,
we toss them absently
into wind—
winnowing maple seeds—
whirling them from us—
as we shape lives,
change destinies.

Now, 
they seem to flit
to nothingness,
like us—
pale night insects
pestering
opal moons,
infestations of night
thickly settling
on the liquid glass
of our tongues.

Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.

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