"cockroach" poems
the cockroach crouched
against the tile
while I was ******* and as
I turned my head
he hauled his ****
into a crack.
I got the can and sprayed
and sprayed and sprayed
and finally the roach came out
and gave me a very ***** look.
then he fell down into
the bathtub and I watched
him dying
with a subtle pleasure
because I paid rent
and he didn't.
I picked him up with
some greenblue toilet
paper and flushed him
away. that's all there
was to that, except
around Hollywood and
Western we have to
keep doing it.
they say some day that
tribe is going to
inherit the earth
but we're going to
make them wait a
few months.
29k
one of Lorca's best lines
is,
"agony, always
agony ..."
think of this when you
**** a
cockroach or
pick up a razor to
shave
or awaken in the morning
to
face the
sun.
19.8k
There’s a scurrying sound of something, burrowing,
Down in the depths of the dungeons, hurrying,
Skittering, pittering-pattering, scattering
When there’s a footstep, hear them chattering:
‘Here come the lords, and here comes the vassal,
Tripping their way through Cockroach Castle.’
Here come the ladies, all in their finery
Tripping and sipping the wine from the winery,
Trailing their silks, their satins and bustling,
Up in the ballroom, while the rustling
Army beneath the sounds of their razzle
Is down in the depths of Cockroach Castle.
Spilling their millions up in the glooming
Out from the flagstones, terror is looming,
Up on the awnings, hung from the ceiling
Under the swish of the skirts they’re stealing,
Dropping in hair, and burrowing faster,
Cockroach Castle is set for disaster.
Suddenly all of the room is screaming
Flapping of hands, the roaches are teeming,
Myriad hordes in the Carbonara,
Candles are tipped from the candelabra,
Choking smoke from the candles guttered,
Flames leap up from the ones that stuttered.
Clothing and flags and the awnings razing
Silks and satins flare up, and blazing,
Roaches in eyes and ears, they’re rasping
Clogging their throats, to leave them gasping,
There isn’t a lady or lord, or vassal
To come out alive from Cockroach Castle!
David Lewis Paget
Apr 3, 2014
Apr 3, 2014 at 1:08 PM UTC
He slowly assembles his rifle on the barren rooftop as the
wind blows through his light blond hair.
His long overcoat ***** and wraps around his thin long
legs.
He places his elbows upon the short wall in front of him,
firmly kneeling on both knees.
Glancing into the rifle's sight, he focuses sharply through
its cross hairs; he sees hundreds passing through the sight,
men, women, children, and as he sees it, a maze
of mass hysteria.
He thinks of his current desperate situation and with each
passing thought, his heart pumps more hateful
adrenaline through his expanding veins.
What am I?....He wonders.
"I am the orphan child too ugly to adopt!
I am the spit in the street you step in and curse!
I am the cockroach so many crush beneath their feet!
I wish to love and beloved, for I am ever so lonely,
so empty.
I wish to give my whole self to someone to make them
eternally happy!
To sacrifice all I possess, including my life, for the one
I love,
but I am thoughtlessly branded a stalker!
I am the void in all broken hearts.
As a child, I only wished to be loved and appreciated,
but I was raised the invisible child.
There's a painful sore in my throbbing brain, the lethal
virus of society'd disdain.
I'm insane!....I'm insane!...Give me peace, God if you exist
Give me peace!
He glances once again through the sight's cross hairs,
catching sight of a young boy standing alone, mouth wide open
with tears rolling down his cheeks.
He pauses.....envisioning himself, his blue eyes cloud
with tears.
He pulls back back his loaded rifle placing it against the
short wall,
realizing at the moment this wasn't the way to end his
unbearable pain.
Reaching into his deep overcoat's pocket, his long fingers
catch grasp of the cool surface of a 9 mm.
Pulling it slowly from his pocket, he raises it to his temple,
slipping his finger upon its tight trigger he whispers once
again,
"God....if you exist,
Give me peace."
Dec 26, 2016
Dec 26, 2016 at 1:25 PM UTC
The greatest challenge my nature presents:
Love is harder to find
Hate is easier to find
Within myself and others
Is rejection different for me?
Everybody seems to know the pain of being unwanted
And idle threats and empty words are no stranger to rejection
But when you say you'll **** me if you ever see me again
The intention is clear
The existence of my attraction
Is grotesque beyond redemption
I thought I loved you...
When appreciation comes my way
It's superficiality amuses me
Because I know all that needs to happen
Is breaking down the wall to my mind
Or unlocking the door to my heart
And those appreciators will transform into detractors
Especially if the hideous leviathan approaches their vessel
Not finding women gross frustrates me
Because I have no reference point
For why people hate me so much
Which provides a reference point
For why I hate myself so much
It's difficult not to be dominated by this damnation
But there's no way people could understand
The daily subtle nuances
Why should they?
I don't constantly consider their lives either
Even if someone tried to comprehend my life
I'm not sure it's possible
I've been here the whole time and I'm still massively perplexed
I display my emotions
Disgust
I shroud my emotions
Indifference
I **** my emotions
Hatred
Is there no escape?
Even with sanctuaries along the way
Life feels like
Everybody swims in the ocean
While I'm resigned to my lonely oasis
Is it possible to feel more alone than completely alone?
Like a cockroach consigned to living under the refrigerator
It gets so cold and dark down here
I forage for crumbs only at night
Mortally afraid of human contact
For I know that the boot follows the light
And why not?
In a world where our priorities obstruct our compassion
How much consideration should a real human show
to a lowly maggot like me
When they have to worry about paying the exterminator?
Jun 25, 2017
Jun 25, 2017 at 4:16 AM UTC
I’m a Polyglot Polymath, Microphone’s a Polygraph,
Manners of a Sociopath-Rhymin’ keeps me on the path,
Else I’d be hackin you up like a cannibal,
Pullin the Chianti out-serve you up like Hannibal,
Words heavier than Elephants invading cross the alps,
Under Armour over Body Armour-waistline fulla scalps,
From the Belt o’ the Celt o’ the Schizophrenic Sandman,
You’re triple teamed by -EC- Raps new Xmen.
I broke me chains,some say I went insane,
But it’s simple,all I went and did was grow a brain.
be the Bane of your life,while Mal plays Dark Knight,
A rhyme Super Villain with a verse of Dark Light,
The searchlights on-watch the cockroach scatter,
We speak Dark Matter while your brain gets battered,
batten down the screws-worldviews get skewed,
Mal and Sandman's Positively Mental Attitude.
It’s the original Irish OG rough rugged and ready,
Battling me is futile keep your hands steady,
I’m no pacifist,and if you take the ****
I’ll clap you with a fist like an obelisk,
That’s a grave warning,-global warming,
The Dragon of Eire ,skies look stormy…
Since cassettes and disks I’ve been spittin ****
That makes wannabee’s wanna slit their wrists,
The Sandman’s calling,come in and take a mauling,
Rappin since clappin one two and yes y’allin,
from New Aulins to saint Pauls my kin,
Are gathering for the quickenin,pulse races,air thickenin'
Highlander in a land cruiser,take your teeth out like a dentist
E.C’s BRUISER.
batten down the screws-worldviews get skewed,
by Mal and Sandmans Positively Mental Attitude.
Apr 26, 2016
Apr 26, 2016 at 1:36 PM UTC
Compromise and decay are difficult things to digest. Striking like gravity on the spine, slow and sure. They are as inevitable as my need to avoid them. All the lust, passion, and greed I wish to swim in for an eternity dies with the same cancer that eats my body away. The maggots, flies, desperation, and despair, all attack me simultaneously and with an unstoppable desire to thrive on my remains.
They are relentless and I am not.
Make like a good boy and lie down, ready to decompose with acceptance and grace. I'll place a bag on my head for decency and my wallet on my chest for convenient identification. Perhaps some intelligent future civilization of the cockroach's descendants would like to know about my sad demise. I know the humans won't.
"Misguided", they will say. "Not enough Jesus in his soul to beat back the demons", will say the child ******* priests. Spit on by a hundred million naysayers, in between their ************ and repenting. Given billions of one star reviews because zero stars isn't an option. Oh , I miss the the maggots, the flies, the devastation, and the despair. They were my enemies, and now my only friends.
Nov 20, 2014
Nov 20, 2014 at 1:49 PM UTC
I’m talking to you
in my head
been cultivating this shyness
since I was three years old
talking to inanimate objects
painted smiles, rubber-skinned
metal frames
turning wheels
the family minivan kept me company
as mountains rose and fell
like held breaths
let go.
playing games with pregnant raindrops
rolling down the glass
obsessed with the shark’s fin triangle
the wipers could not
reach.
I’m obsessing over seeing you.
always trying to be invisible
your eyes beginning to skim past I,
they didn’t used too.
*“The voices that once spoke love
but did not mean love.”*
the withered rose living
in the trash,
abandoned friends in the attic
forgotten songs
unfinished books
I am the forgotten
I am the abandoned
I am the left behind
cobweb-and-cotton-dust-collector
the silence connoisseur
I wear loneliness like an unwashed favorite shirt
If I die
Will you read this?
Does anyone else think such things
or is Tonio Kroger my only brother?
I am Kafka’s cockroach,
everyone is waiting for me to die
or to change into what you want me to be.
my name will not be in the history books
by the time my children’s children will have children
I am no one.
Everything fades in this world
like whiteboard-marker on acetate lives.
Desolate corners and garbage
tell stories
art is vandalism, vandalism is art.
and people wear diamonds but they are worth nothing.
and babies inherit their father’s eyes.
I am not yours.
You are not mine.
Isn’t ownership objectification?
If a man owns a clock
does the clock own the man?
Let’s be
money and greed
or
greed and suffering.
one cannot survive
without…
Let’s be
the mismatched pyramids
of wealth and population
form a parallelogram
like bricks on an unstable wall
never falling down.
Apr 15, 2012
Apr 15, 2012 at 7:46 AM UTC
Today i woke up
went outside to take a ****
and when i came back in
I found a cockroach
he says hi
Aug 31, 2010
Aug 31, 2010 at 6:26 PM UTC
On its back,
The cockroach,
In a jacket of red wings,
Slender legs,
And bulging abdomen,
Like the tummy of African statesman,
Its legs wallowing in despair,
In the air,
Stamping the spread eagled,
Hind and forelimbs,
Of the poor anthropod,
Kicking and waving,
A cry for the succor,
To be freed from ebola,
Or breaking the *** tether,
Or un-doing strong bonds of poverty,
Three districts under leprosy,
In the domain of the bull’s eye,
Where lesbians and gays swallow raw fate,
Its salient manifestation,
Then the cockroach kicks silently,
Anticipating for salvage,
But when the domain owner comes,
He steps with full weight,
His foot dressed in military boots,
From the previous legacy of Che Gue Vara,
On the belly of the kakerlag at Berlin Wall,
Bursting its stomach but hopscotch,
Spilling the white stuff out,
Of poverty and mental dilemma,
Amid hopelessness in future and history,
As terrorism mires tomorrow,
When China reigns today,
At mercy of contemporary panjandrums,
Moving from white to black
And from black to face book,
Killing those who fall in commercial love,
As if money is the ***** for nuptial night,
But only to go forth ignobled,
Without making momentous affinity,
In the realm of ill fated cockroach back-dom,
Sending Mafousian Egypt to Swedish table,
Without scorn and regard for true African blood,
Where will I apologize?
If the ****** bug
Enters my head and heart,
To blind my logical eyes,
Only to open wide
The senses that see and feel
Religion and race; O! Al Qaeda!
Dec 4, 2014
Dec 4, 2014 at 6:17 AM UTC
Today, I watched a dying cockroach try and drag itself across my bathroom floor
It couldn't even drag itself properly
Sometimes I feel like that
Like the dying cockroach who can't even drag itself properly to the unknown safety of beyond
Jul 17, 2015
Jul 17, 2015 at 8:30 AM UTC
You crawl on my skin like a cockroach...
Why do I desire you?
Shouldn't I be disgusted?
Dec 28, 2013
Dec 28, 2013 at 6:22 AM UTC
you say it is disgusting for me to be naked.
you. you who opens up redtube as soon as you walk into your room.
you say that i should wear a bra to cover up. that no one would want to see the outline of my *******
when you get hard thinking about taking off my shirt.
you tell me to put on a sweater so my bra straps don't show.
because you want to be the only one to see them. selfish you are. you.
you tell me i am a **** for sleeping with anyone i want.
then tell your friends all the ***** things i'll do once you **** me since i'm so "experienced".
you will never get to **** me.
you. you ************* pissfuck, wretched, privileged, puny COCKroach.
you tell me to calm down after you shove my head onto your lap and say ****
you ask why i am so uptight. why i don't get that it was just a joke.
feminazi
you who creates the danger in my life then laughs when i take note of it.
you who creates threats to my safety and sanity then questions why i do not simply comply.
you who creates hostility. dismissal.
you who creates a life-threatening culture around the sacks of fat i have on my chest and the hole i have between my legs.
you mock me for gripping my keys walking next to you.
i was born naked. i will walk the streets naked. exept for the stilettos i will wear to punch a hole through your patriarchal ********
Oct 18, 2013
Oct 18, 2013 at 3:02 PM UTC
An outcast,
A creature we despise,
It looks so small and tiny,
And has gimlet eyes,
It stalks the drains and kitchens,
And scavenges in the night,
And climbs upon our plates of food,
Such an unwelcome sight.
Aug 28, 2012
Aug 28, 2012 at 5:55 AM UTC
Nudge a numb cockroach and he'll love you for life
just ***** little lemonheads
can't actually survive a nuclear explosion
but can cause catastrophic evolutionary queries
like "Why do the good die young?"
Can you believe
that long ago only the bad died elderly
and were witches with elixirs
potions and spells to make God blush and his **** turn to mush
so powerful
they made people go crazy with
judgement and micromanaging
but I'm the real witch
right-o I ride broomsticks and eat toads for snacks
my back is a lump of coal from the Devil's morning hookah
smoke billows from my ears
cockroaches my best friends
we cut off our heads and run into fridges
my pelvis is frigid except
for those **** roaches.
May 30, 2012
May 30, 2012 at 6:43 PM UTC
Kafka and his Giant Insect
Which Might Be a Cockroach
But Maybe Not
We Could go to Das Schloss and ask Mr. K
An insect woke up one morning and realized
He had been transformed into Gregor Samsa
From a life focused on eating hair and grease
Glue, soup, bread, paper, leather
Sewerage, butter, meat (fresh and decayed)
Makeup, cookies, sugar, toothbrush bristles
Cookies, pizza, flour, tacos, apple pie
Dead bodies, feces, and his own species
He now had to deal with the confusion
The sorrow of being Gregor Samsa
Aug 14, 2018
Aug 14, 2018 at 4:28 PM UTC
A is for anthill which I have in my drive
B is for buzzing from a hidden bee hive
C is for cockroach that run all round the house
D is for droppings, that have been left by a mouse
E is for egg sack that hangs in my trees
F is for flying which the bugs do with ease
G is is for gophers which inhabit my yard
H is for hillocks with which my yard is marred
I is for insects which are all I can see
J is for june bugs, they're as big as my knee
K is for killing which I try to do
L is for lugworms that are shaped like a *****
M is for Mickey and his mousey like friends
N is for never...this infestation won't end
O is for Oscar, my scared orange cat
P is for well...pee...and he's good at that
Q is for quinine which I leave out to treat
R is for rodents, which I want Oscar to eat
S is for slugs which are killing my grass
T is for totalled, just give me a match and some gas
U is for underwriter who has insured my place
V is for vermin, that now own all my space
W is for water with which I started a flood
X is for poison, which will thin out their blood
Y is for Yertle, a turtle by suess
Z is me sleeping...to bugs and vermin on the loose
Sep 13, 2012
Sep 13, 2012 at 7:43 PM UTC
give and follow traces,
decion-making behavior is my god
light may lead sometimes,
but night is my flight.
i conclude i am a pest for the sake of many,
great faith bestowed upon me.
by boiling? oh yes!
but remember, i am a cockroach.
and i need friends.
Sep 9, 2015
Sep 9, 2015 at 7:18 PM UTC
You stopped responding at my second
jesus **** joke, but I didn't care,
and I was the one at work. Aces.
Even vacation is stressful for you,
although I'll admit my humor isn't great,
but amongst friends I'm hysterical.
I only have about a handful,
and they're all ******* weird as me
except for a couple or several.
I'm not a big fan of most people I root for,
I'm terribly sarcastic, and if I love you
I might want you to fall on your ******* nose.
It's a fifty-fifty split,
or seventy to thirty.
I'm a ravenous cannibal when
I put words down to something tangible.
I'm also late to work or early,
and all my friends get my friends jobs
right before we leave or get fired
or get too poor to stay where we are.
It's a horribly satisfying way to live
but a ******** way to want to die.
I'm a coward and a liar with great hygiene,
I liken myself akin to the noble cockroach,
because I'm a nuclear survivor!
And the post-apocalypse started
right after Hiroshima, and now they
watch or **** everyone,
and people police people.
If you can't afford the rent stay with strangers
or starve to death on the streets while
middle class lunatics watch you evaporate
"rationally" as bystanders in a new world war.
It's not even a subtle genocide.
Jan 1, 2015
Jan 1, 2015 at 6:46 PM UTC
God made every single creature for a reason!
It happened many years ago, an average day at work
when I was employed as nothing more, just a simple clerk
Heaven sent me a lesson, they saw fit that I learn
sent through the smallest of creatures, knowing I would discern
My first instinct was simple, to one all could relate
a desire to crush this cockroach, I could not wait
As I raised my foot, making sure my aim was set
knowing that he'd be finished, with nothing to regret
I was overpowered by a thought, a simple thought to consider
why should this ugly creature, cause me to be bitter?
With great plan and purpose, was this cockroach surely made
but where was born this eagerness to **** or for me to be afraid?
With great difficulty going against my nature, I did then dare
no more justifications were acceptable to me, for I was now aware
Although small and ugly was my limited perception, I could still care
With this cockroach, nothing would stop me, and would I now spare
Lessons throughout life, does our Creator continually teach
empowering us with free choice, and potential growth that we reach
By contemplating our thoughts, and their true meaning that we may find
a change of heart in our actions, and a true desire to be kind
Jul 24, 2015
Jul 24, 2015 at 8:14 AM UTC
**** poor, dying for a dream,
or a drink, one more cigarette,
the landlord comes around, asking for rent
and the money is gone, it was never there,
so you smile and bat your eyes,
one more week, I promise
soon he'll be at your throat
with eviction notices that scream
louder than stereotypes of poverty
louder than your baby's growling stomach
louder than all of your meticulous schemes.
are you uncomfortable yet?
I've barely scratched the surface.
the stereotype that you fell into
doesn't suit you, single mother
wiping off tables and smiling your hardest
to make tips, bend a little further,
hike up your skirt, show some leg
some *** let them see your ****
generous patrons love that ****
you go home and scream into empty spaces
and curl into cold corners thinking of
Bukowski in cockroach rooms
eating candy bars to survive
and dream of an end to a means.
you play some Tchaikovsky
and hold your own flesh and blood
close enough that they can't leave you,
drink White Russians until your hands melt
and write **** that nobody wants to read
about your struggles, knowing that
you will be gifted with rejection letters
and apologies.
**** poor, it is a way to live
but if you prefer sanity, not one
that I would suggest.
it will devour you
destroy you, upend your hopes
and shatter your dreams.
god will not help you,
nor the state or the politicians,
but if you make it out alive
you could be stronger than
diamonds, harder even than
your own resolve.
Nov 29, 2012
Nov 29, 2012 at 1:35 PM UTC
the bottle's like a violin,
screaming demons in my stomach,
a cyborg forging information as lunch,
purging an urge for self-destruction,
my outer shell's cold but the circuits a storm,
of electrical database lifespan into megabytes of ****
see death is a story,
and my analogies are allegories,
mourning after the goriest morning is NOT worth storing,
blank pages turn into mythical dissipation,
and with that loud speaker you'd think he could pen down imagination,
a midnight gig playing with cosmic instrumentation,
for the humanoid race place your conscious on your invitation,
Apr 1, 2015
Apr 1, 2015 at 5:40 PM UTC
a cockroach crawled up her sleeve and inside her shirt
and it fumbled its way into her brain
then, it fed her lies and let her think she was worthless
when it was done, it crawled back out
and on its way out,
it took all of the love that she had for herself
it left her empty
from that day on
she unconsciously let in every cockroach she met
trying not to feel empty
not knowing that those cockroaches
were only making her feel
more empty
Jan 20, 2018
Jan 20, 2018 at 5:28 PM UTC
Good morning is what I say
when I reach my office at night.
All my friends and colleagues
look cool and bright.
Till 2 o'clock there is
work, gossip and fun.
After 2, the clock stops
and everyone peeps out for sun.
Bright shining faces
now changes to dull.
Changing environment
makes many lull.
My fatigued eyelids
becomes so heavy.
Now computer appears boring to me,
a computer savvy.
My sleep becomes wild
and starts playing game.
All my efforts with my
sleep goes in vain.
sleep wins the game,
I start my journey from hell to heaven
But a ghost interrupts my journey
with a shout all of a sudden.
I open my eyes to see my TL
who appears so cruel.
It seems he is going to burn me
with fire and fuel.
I put down my head in shame
and wondered why it happened to me.
I remembered, I used to laugh
at a bird who was wild and free.
I was sure it was
the curse of an owl.
It was result of my deeds
now I cannot cry foul.
After sometime sleep decides to play
with TL the same old game.
The result was no different
it was known and same.
My TL falls asleep while
browsing some computer files.
All around the floor
there were giggles and smiles.
All of a sudden he wakes up
as if he has seen some ugly ghost.
In dream TL's boss must have offered
him cockroach sauce and toast.
TL saw my smiles and his glasses
couldn't hide his murderous glares.
He looked at me as if I was a cactus
and made me sit upstairs
I was very careful because
very close TL's boss used to sit
He was a man who never smiled
and was very strict.
A young girl sitting beside me
had frog like bulging eyes
She was very quiet,
looking tired, dull and shy.
Poor innocent girl
repeated the same old mistake
Sleep tricked her,
she couldn't keep herself awake
Next moment there were
scoldings and shouts.
Hapless girl stood stunned
hearing boss's spouts.
If Allah Almighty can listen
to prayers of a bird
Prayers of an anguished heart
is sure to be heard.
Cunning sleep walked
knavishly on the floor.
All around the floor was
audible boss's noisy snores.
Entire floor stood up
to look at him with surprise
He woke-up abruptly
looking around with disgraceful eyes.
The shame was too much
for him to ignore or digest.
Hurriedly he took the keys
of his maroon car and left.
Nov 30, 2014
Nov 30, 2014 at 5:52 AM UTC