Long Cockroach Poems
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Myrtle Parker
Myrtle Parker lived on the Riviera,
That’s the English one not the French.
Her favourite tipple is Red Currant Cider,
Only beverage her thirst would quench.
Never did she marry no husband,
Preference for life single and free,
Though kept two doggy companions,
Twin Westies, Florence and Zebedee.
Miss Parker was a gatherer and hoarder,
Antiques, curios, lots of impractical tat.
Her catchphrase was somewhat familiar,
“I‘ll find a good use for that.”
Tumbledown Cottage name on the gate,
Aptly called for badly required repair.
The man from Devonshire Council,
Shakes his head in anguished despair.
Oh, dear Myrtle what are we to do,
I cannot see the wood for the trees,
Environment Officer is calling today,
He doesn’t like cockroach and fleas.
Myrtle lives close to Muscle shell beach,
Small cove of shingle and coarse sand,
Opposite the Cat protection league,
Where she buys new clothes second hand.
One summer had a house full of Kittens,
That grew into fully grown cats.
They left her in search of new comforts,
Plagued by visits of large rodent rats.
Myrtle decided on a radical clear out,
To make way for a new feather bed,
But could not let go of her treasures,
So continued sleeping on the sofa instead.
Seventy years old, obstinate and proud,
Devon Council man returned to her door.
“This house is making you poorly my dear,
Regretfully you cannot live here anymore.
Oh, dear Myrtle here’s what we’ll do,
Move you into a comfy town flat,
Environment Officer is calling today,
Condemn your cottage, so sorry about that.
Myrtle Parker was born in this house,
Her father he worked on the boats,
Mother stayed home baking bread,
From freshly ground buckwheat groats.
Tumbledown cottage is full of memories,
Though can’t find many for the clutter.
Diminutive rooms two up two down,
Walls dampened by broken pipe gutter.
If I have to go then take me in a box,
She chained herself to the newel post.
I’ll defend my rights for all I’m worth,
Then haunt Council man as his ghost.
Council man arrives excited with keys,
For Miss Parkers new urban home,
But Myrtle had been true to her word,
and perished on the staircase all alone.
Oh, dear Myrtle what have you done,
Your new flat was shiny and clean,
Environment Officer is calling today,
Demolition boss with bulldozer team.
I walked outside in the scorching heat moving papers and turning over pages just looking for that one line that goes back to the middle ages. The search was long, the documents were strong and the paragraph sits at the bottom with the exact words about the controversial land. Moses was deceased, Joshua was bequeathed and mimiram joined the crew when her leprosy
came through.
I traveled to Vatican City to view the writing form the thirteenth century there were piles and piles of them standing in a row but I had nowhere to go and I could not move any of them.
I had to view them with a magnifying glass or the whole thing would have fallen apart .I walked along the Vatican city underground and there were museums all around with documents that goes back to the creation of the earth but they were all sealed up in dirt.
Something caught my eyes from the back and I continue to move my eyeball over the lines to see what historical data I could find. I just wanted to fit the pieces together until I could uncover the secrecy, and just when I thought my long search was done a cockroach crawl up from the corner and there it was staring at me, the very line that illustrate my dignity. A thousand cameras pointed at me from every angle, I could not touch or move a thing until the vessel I had memorized the plaintiff hymn.
The Priest kept juggling on the floor and the Roman soldiers keep asking for more, the theater was where it all began with a harp a violin and a harmonica riding on the gondola and singing a song. They were all playing for me as the discovery breaks the bonds of history to uncover an age-old mystery, the authentic crowd docked on the other side while I continue to hold up my pride and the gondola drift.
I try to fit the piece together so I went on a hurricane ride and landed in Peru and made my way to the city of Cuzco to connect the dots and explore the salt mine of maras and when I got what I wanted I made my way to France and visit the Mount Blanc and made a bond with Eifel tower. When the research was over, I clocked in nine hundred million dollars for a Zig Zag line and a marking on a cave that was divine.
And so the evidence was right in front of me to prove the murder in the first degree and a global fraud in the second degree. You must make haste and come and see me.
A dreaming man in the state of REM
sees the dream as a reality
rivers of thoughts like sparkling gems
reveling in his new found sanity.
hours ago, a dozen empty bottles
deafening music and cheesy sizzles
gagging from second hand smoke
rhetorical nagging, senseless jokes
laser lights blinding, dancing to tune
a guy signing, sounding like a croak
who was better off in the heat of the dunes
Staggering dizzily up steep stairs
without acrobatic skills of balance and grace
like in a masquerade with ladies all fair
behind his mask, the unseen face
drooling and smelling of alcohol
like in a trance at this dream ball
as dim lights lead to his abode
soft music playing in shuffle mode
eager for that soft fluffy pillow
to unburden all of the days load
into this dreamy soft silo
Rumbling snores fill the bunk
like thunder after the blinding bolt
deep into the sea of linen he is sunk
impervious even from a jarring jolt
closed eyes start to move and spin
like in a search that is to begin
falling , falling into deeper slumber
into a world far, far beyond yonder
played out by his own memories
a scene of a goose and a gander
replaying happy childhood stories
Splattering water drops in constant dripping
from a leaky rusty faucet
old china strewn in the sink, smelling
like a stale stiff baguette
while a cockroach enjoys the rich dinner
laid out in a gold rimmed platter
unmindful of the thundering snores
that sends minute tremors down the floor
munching, licking, chewing, gnawing…
eating his fill till he can eat no more
while others continue their wild feasting
As light beams transform dark to day
cutting through mists, reflecting in dew
heralded by songs of love birds at play
as the sweet smell of neighbors hot brew
sings along from a whistling pot
a morning harmony he never forgot
as he struggles up from bed
ringing in his ears, knocking in his head
dizzily dragging himself to the mirror
staring at eyes of blood shot red
as he strains to reach his trusted razor.
His hangover lasted for 3 hours to the dot
couldn’t get to work, so sheepishly he just sat
his job hanging from a thin thread
and a nagging that he hears in his head
round and round he swirls the stirrer
of the hot coffee and a piece of bread
he gingerly asked from his good old neighbor.
I thought poetry is
-name of Mesopotamia which was the first civilization to emerge in human history
-ancient cave peoples surviving life struggle
I thought poetry is
-an immortal love story of Yousuf- Zulekha, Shirin-Farhad, Laila-Majnu or Romeo-Juliet
-a telephonic or open love conversation of smiling postmodern girls
-drying wet colorful clothes of beloved in the courtyard of the house
-haring of beloved with tuberose garland before a mirror
I thought poetry is
-lizards chirping from the deserted house; cockroach flying
-quarrelsome cats in the black dark or barking dogs
-the struggle of mosquito for human blood
-traveling of the arrogant indecent animals all over the night
I thought poetry is
-thrilling venturous ghostly stories of J. K. Rowling
-self-expression of known-unknown writers
-unspoken tale of a war-wounded soldier
-the regret of the thousands of dead soldiers
-the unwritten fantasy of an isolated poet
-the lonely guitar or ektara of dead singers
I thought poetry is
-without reel tie an independent flying of a kite in the sky
-in the blue sky sovereign flapping of birds
-movement of invisible winds everywhere
-hearing story of fairytale crossing of green forest
I thought poetry is
-handmade airing of newly married girl to a new groom in lunch time
-dyed hands of nubile girls by mehndi,
-captivating sounds of jingling anklet and kamarband of dancing damsels
I thought poetry is
-classic music of Pandit Ravi Shankar
-immortal tune of Ustad Bismillah Khan's shehnai
-compilation of humanitarian lyrics of the legend Bob Marley
-heart touching reciting of the Holy Quran of Qari Abdul Basit
I thought poetry is
-unforgettable philosophical discussion of Socrates with his disciples
-the philosophic lineage of learning such as Socrates-Plato-Aristotle
-immortal scientific creations of Newton, Galileo, Einstein, Nikola Tesla, Hawking
I thought poetry is
-unremitting prayer or worship of any prevailed religion devotee to get heaven
-inhuman history of bombing on the Hiroshima and Nagasaki or brutality of 1st or 2nd World War
These all are just my thinking,
my thinking is free
on my path
but poetry is poetry,
more than any thinking, many more;
on its path
Poetry is independent fully
-June 27, 2019 Chattogram
Fruit Fly, Cockroach, Random Lie Fruit fly, cockroach, random lie, here we go eternity sis-boom... bye.
Dust to dust, ashes to ashes, just like that, I am gone, after living out, like water up the spout it's all days gone bye.
Like a riddle, It's long, it's short, it goes by quick, after all, is said and done we don't really give a lick.
Chased the dream until I screamed, some attained, some elusive but at a price that is utterly too abusive.
Fruit fly, cockroach, random lie, here we go eternity sis-boom... sigh.
We just leave as we should because it's time, time for God's next trick. Rich man, poor man it don't matter none we have had our fill and our fun.
Next man up, fasten your seatbelt it's quite the ride, don't want to fall until it's your time to die........
Fruit fly, cockroach, random lie, here we go eternity... my oh my!
Everything true was just mere lies, some more, some less but lies nonetheless, deceived, distressed, completely undressed.
What to think, what to say, when all of one's beliefs are taken away, press pause? restart? reboot you say? It's all a bit late, it's all rather moot, wouldn't you say?
It's all very odd to begin the decline when everything seems strangely fine? It all weighs so heavily though on your mind.
Best not to think, just do! try to win each day as it's all anew. It's good, it's bad, it's happy, it's sad, my son calls me dad so I'm not feeling mad, just happy to be and, not, not be and to be as long as I possibly can be. Is that the answer? maybe? we'll see.......
Fruit fly, cockroach, random lie, here we go eternity... Please don't cry
For we die each night, Born again every day, take it or leave it, it's better that way. Take it!, take it, I say, try to make it just one more day, what more can one possibly say, but be thankful for just one more precious day.
Like the common fruit fly and cockroach, our life span is but a blink of an eye before we die, just minutes off the cosmic clock of which we have no apparent key to its eternal lock
I went to a friend's house just the other day. And
man, I tell you that place I would not rather stay.
The roaches are bad; they take over the place. Let me
tell you the story...it all happened this way.
When it was time to eat, I looked around and what the
hell! This place seemed to be loaded with a bunch of
roach motels.
So we ate our food, for more my friend begged. But
something troubled me, I felt something crawling up
my leg.
It was a cockroach! I jumped up and misbehaved. So
what else was there to do, but reach for a can of raid.
I tried to spray the thing, running after it like a
soldier. It ran into a hole, but peaked out saying,
"This isn't over!"
I went back to the table...that episode gave me the
creeps. But heck I was hungry, so I returned to my
place to eat.
What I saw next put me in a sour mood. A roach was
giving thanks and proceeded to eat my food!
Well so much for dinner, I'll call it a night and brush
my teeth. I flicked on the light and there he was, "So
again we meet!"
"I told you this isn't over," then he flew towards my
face. I ducked and I took off running in a panic haste.
This roach seemed determined as he flew towards me. "If
I don't get you now," he said "then I'll get you while
your asleep."
"Every step step you make. Every move you make,you'll
think of only me. I'll pop up when you least expect it,
count on that, hehehe."
I confronted my friend and told him, "This house the
roaches rule..." I went to say more, but he interrupted,
"Silence you fool!"
"Our roaches aren't that bad..." but suddenly he let out
a scream. A roach crawled in his shorts, now he's coming
apart at the seams.
I was laughing so hard at him that I was turning blue.
Suddenly I stopped laughing, because by my ear something
flew.
It was that flying cockroach, so like a running-back I
ran. This was too much for me to take, more than I could
stand.
I ran out the house and said enough is enough. If my friend
don't want to be friends no more, then oh well, tough!"
This story was a fiction, but this truth may hurt. You see a
roach, there are more, so make a diligent search.
Don't be a victim. Please be safe and whatever you do...don't
let a bunch of no good roaches get the best of you!
Vladimir Putin itching
to loose nuclear bomb
end of the world scenario ofttimes
iterated throughout history
though an atheist (actually Unitarian),
no doubt this, that or another psalm
countless times the Bible
references Armageddon and doomsday
impossible mission to remain
cool, collected and calm.
Whether affiliated with donkey or elephant
Democrat or Republican viz
blue war red respectively
political hot issues don't amount
to a (Sam) hill of beans
when Sword of Damocles count
approaches zero hour
as global tensions mount
signaling increased chance
trigger finger will free
avast nuclear winter
(across world wide web) re:
leasing plethora, pyrocumulus
mushroom clouds tree
mend us planetary explosions
annihilating webbed wide
world, an irrevocable
indeed earthlinked debacle
spelling widespread species
multitudinous extinction
ex post de facto after super
bowling powers (wannabe) vied
to wrest empowerment spanning
entire realm sans third rock
from the father, sun and holy ghost,
who turned substantial pock
kits of flora and fauna
once populating oblate spheroid ad hoc
significant swaths of life forms
pulverized and/or turned to ash
transformed into radioactive wasteland
after war mongers brash
lee usurped hegemony
(ruling inhabitants
of Gaia with an iron fist
with a smidgen of flavoring
courtesy of Missus Dash
superfluous taste enhancer,
when sibling burnt offering views
between Venus and Mars incendiary
tolled mourning news
smithereens sole remnant
poisoned every square inch
from weapon of mass destruction
that did cruise
engendering thick noxious fog
disabling fox but not cockroach
while smoldering seas and continents
skull and crossbones didst poach
amidst the gasified, liquified, pureed
where holographic ghoulish super bowl coach
rendering lifelessness home for menagerie
where virtue trounced vice as organisms
(particularly one primate) didst try
(predominant 21st century simians)
tool heave with amity, comity, and empathy
animals and plants an experiment
that went awry
presaging a nuclear winter with nary a winner
implicating mankind as the absolute sinner
instantaneously after Doomsday Clock
signaled point of no return
where grim reaper the sole grinner.
Fruit fly, cockroach, random lie, here we go eternity sis-boom... bye.
Dust to dust, ashes to ashes, just like that, I am gone, after living out, like water up the spout it's all days gone bye.
Like a riddle, It's long, it's short, it goes by quick, after all, is said and done we don't really give a lick.
Chased the dream until I screamed, some attained, some elusive but at a price that is utterly too abusive.
Fruit fly, cockroach, random lie, here we go eternity sis-boom... sigh.
We just leave as we should because it's time, time for God's next trick. Rich man, poor man it don't matter none we have had our fill and our fun.
Next man up, fasten your seatbelt it's quite the ride, don't want to fall until it's your time to die........
Fruit fly, cockroach, random lie, here we go eternity... my oh my!
Everything true was just mere lies, some more, some less but lies nonetheless, deceived, distressed, completely undressed.
What to think, what to say, when all of one's beliefs are taken away, press pause? restart? reboot you say? It's all a bit late, it's all rather moot, wouldn't you say?
It's all very odd to begin the decline when everything seems strangely fine? It all weighs so heavily though on your mind.
Best not to think, just do! try to win each day as it's all anew. It's good, it's bad, it's happy, it's sad, my son calls me dad so I'm not feeling mad, just happy to be and, not, not be and to be as long as I possibly can be. Is that the answer? maybe? we'll see.......
Fruit fly, cockroach, random lie, here we go eternity... Please don't cry
For we die each night, Born again every day, take it or leave it, it's better that way. Take it!, take it, I say, try to make it just one more day, what more can one possibly say, but be thankful for just one more precious day.
Like the common fruit fly and cockroach, our life span is but a blink of an eye before we die, just minutes off the cosmic clock of which we have no apparent key to its eternal lock
Four, six, or seventeen tulip buds grinning. Of course not on a salt marsh. Leave that alone. Misted aromas of ancestral graves should be cared for not dug but if a slug us in power then a lemon woman could do much damage to lochs, lands, fields and mountain so do not discuss paperwork with a tiny dog whose obligations are merely to dress in a fur coat. Is the sheer fornication of the environment that is of great concern at this time. Gaping holes can never be earth wombs so digging will produce an end to life. When chatting in a queue always question the mind set of the jaded eyes. Grasping concepts is often a difficulty when all intelligence is received from square entertainment sets. A lone lizard sits on an empty beach waiting for the strobes. The lights to take up and away. Patterns of time. Printed not. Yet in sound waves enjoyed freedom and thus gave birth to new inspiration through interdimensional beams. Often it is said that dancing a waltz with a frog is the best idea as sudden movements of tango could cause unintentional hopping movements. Such a slur. Sour are the sauces whose injection to meats cause secretions. And many a leopard printed ham fails to deliver wine to the exact specifications and timing. Yet a portly shrew arriving in a southern breeze can stop by multitudes of shopping centres in an urgent attempt to purchase grand golden negligées' for their mice partners who are asleep in fairytale yachts complete with pinnacles. Akin to a childhood book. Likened to a cartoon castle of great magic. But when a corvette changes it's clothes it is time fir the sputter sputter sounding cards of the fat dark purple bus. Who would want to eat toast in an elevated slime kitchen with Mr and Mrs cockroach and a laughing 900 foot long light beam of a snake. Portray not a plant as a plate. An apple as a card. And remain aloof to chard writing as this will amuse cats who thrive on milky truths. It is not a justified weapon if planted in a school. Scenes are unjustified and should be abolished. For fried is the skin like an egg in a pan. Turning tuning taking teachings. Yelping yachtsman. Gardeners. Xx booming balance braked xx snail diving henchmen xx saturation xx
Form:
It's now a month later. An invitation is sent to me;
turning it down I reply, "Over my dead body!"
He tells me the roaches are gone because he called
the exterminator. I tell him, "Fine then I will see
you a little later.
I arrived to his house. He hands me a beer. "The
roaches, my friend, are gone. It's so good to have
you here!"
Drinking all that beer made me had to pee. I lifted
the toilet seat and there he was, "Sweet revenge
for me!"
I can't believe my eyes, it's that flying cockroach! I
thought they were gone, but now it doesn't appear so.
He then flew at me, so I swatted hm with my hand. He
dodged and I missed, oh darn I almost pissed my pants!
I gotta pee, but the heck with it, so I ran for my life.
Looks like this will be a very long and scary night.
Guess I'll go to bed, it's not safe to walk around.
Hopefully I'll get to sleep then in the morning I'll
skip town.
What I saw next man, this just wasn't right. A roach
with PJS in bed yelled out, "Turn off that damn light!"
I guess it wasn't quick enough because he suddenly flew
at me. I ducked and he missed...hmmm now where could
he be?
When I catch up to him he will be good as dead. Suddenly
he appeared crawling quickly up my leg.
I ran in another room but stopped, the reason why you see;
my friend was in front of a statue praying down on bended
knee.
"This house is cleansed of cockroaches, though the job was
hard." But as he prayed, a roach bit him right there in front
of the lord!
"Get the raid!" He screamed "My prayers seem unheard
somehow!" SO I ran to get the spray while screaming,
"Feet don't fail me now!"
I sprayed him while saying, "Life for you is over-with!"
He wasn't fazed, he stood there, "That's ant spray you
idiot!"
"You know you are sad and that's just too bad, because all
you've done now was simply made me mad."
I ran out if the house and my friend did to. Two cockroaches
shouted, "Don't come back or worse things we'll do to you!"
Putting his house up for sale cheap, someone will buy it
quicker then. The roaches have won this battle, sadly this
is how it ends.
Form: