"infestations" poems
My smooth vermin, you inspire me to write.
How I hate the way you infest,
Invading my mind day and through the night,
Always dreaming about the wicked rest.
Let me compare you to a contender?
You are more ugly and more disgusting.
Hot frost nips the robins of December,
And wintertime has the shocking busting.
How do I hate you? Let me count the ways.
I hate your intriguing infestations.
Thinking of your many legs fills my days.
My hate for you is the implications.
Now I must away with a loathsome heart,
Remember my fast words whilst we're apart.
Dec 3, 2017
Dec 3, 2017 at 1:12 AM UTC
When they came to my island, the
hero and his crew (more like
an invasive species
of uninvited animals)
The rot from their unwashed feet spilled everywhere--
infestations of foul--
They plucked grapes from my vines slowly, with pride,
as if they kept them themselves,
They came into my cave and stole sheep’s milk and cheese--
The blessed feta: vanished!!
And you wonder why I snacked on two--I had nothing else!
They disregarded emptied wine bottles in clusters in the sand,
Kept me awake in the evening with boisterous, hoglike squeals.
And when I let out a scream myself,
A cry to my native land, to my father,
I spotted my herds scurrying from the cave,
with little hands floating atop their fur,
Then came the electrifying pain
I see a staff, feel the hit, become
disabled.
They took everything and left me blinded
And he is still the hero?
He told me he was Nobody.
Dec 25, 2013
Dec 25, 2013 at 6:37 PM UTC
I. Summer pictures litter her walls
Glitter infestations
Second grade yearbook
And a signed portrait of that one indie celebrity.
What’s his name?
Jimi Hendrix?
Or Rob the Bone Crusher?
Was it that guy from New England?
With the Iced Tea, and the apartment?
You know that really, really big condo.
II. in 1995 you were all hot and heavy
******* and bumping in the clubs
Sinking your teeth into whatever
Or whoever you could find
Like ****** and some of that crystal ****
You said you liked the way it felt
When it ran down your veins
III. I remember the nights you cried
You said you’d feel this way forever
And I said well…probably.
IV. 7 AM, you’re still out clubbing.
Out on the streets like a little hoodlum
Looking for your fix in the alleys
Of a suburb of your suburb of Minneapolis.
Anything you can shoot, smoke, snort or swallow
You’re down.
Sep 18, 2012
Sep 18, 2012 at 4:33 PM UTC
Through the darkest seed
Through the light split by blood and greed
They desire that which is forbidden
Yet persevere disregarding being forgiven
It's in disgust as infestations reap its greatness
Holding broken memories we soak in weakness
It's in these crown of thorns we rest in what we believe
Yet voiced with transparent lungs we grieve
We try to fight the silence but no one is listening
Screaming our emotions translates to whispering
As we bury their hope in the ground gasping their final last breath
We except their fate
Their destiny
Their death.
Even after death we feel their words resonate
As they breach the great white gate.
They are never forgotten, they are always loved
Looking down on us from above
-Joseph B Schneider
Aug 6, 2014
Aug 6, 2014 at 2:36 AM UTC
London is an onion.
Not one of those big, brown juicy globes
you can buy in packs of three, from Tesco,
No, an earthy, shrivelled relic from an old geezer's allotment,
With trailing fronds and a few infestations.
If you were to take a bite, your eyes would smart and your body rebel with a cough, a shudder and a wheeze,
But moments later, a smile would be playing round your lips,
Such a sensory adventure, though not exactly pleasant, can still be savoured,
And you'll remember the taste forever.
Londoners are weevils, hiding in the layers.
Outer, inner, some of us worm our way between them all.
Me, I tend to head for the heart of the thing,
Soho, Southwark, the inner sanctums.
I sometimes venture nearer the surface, the outer edges,
But too close to the unknown, and unfamiliar air,
And I start to pine for the centre.
You can work between the layers,
But the many skins are tougher than you'd think,
Better to burrow down, find a place to sustain
The appetite of a hungry little grub.
Sep 15, 2013
Sep 15, 2013 at 3:01 PM UTC
Pity him, or her...pity them
Pity those victims of devastation
And infestations
And molestation
Pity the children...those abandoned babies
But it is not enough...
Please...do something beyond pity.
Pity those in extreme poverty,
Suffering from incapabilities...
Pity those with agonizing hearts
Because of missing body parts
Marred, disfigured, debilitated
Physically,
Emotionally
Psychologically..
But, it is not enough
Please...do something beyond pity.
Pity even those with aching hearts
Devastated, with broken hearts
Who find it difficult to heal
Believe again, a cruel world, so real.
Be guided,in reflecting,
There are others more deserving,
Beware of those who are self-serving
Know who are in most need of caring
Know that, beyond pity, there's more to be done
Much can be done...If we all try to be one.
Sally
Copyright April 6, 2017
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
#abandonedbabies #abusedchildren #molestation #devastation #incapabilities #pity #npmimportant
Apr 5, 2017
Apr 5, 2017 at 8:46 PM UTC
The setting of traps
has always seemed
like a tacit endorsement
of the mice.
Acknowledgement.
Validation.
Admission of failings as a homeowner –
(cracked baseboards or an unsealed gap in the door.)
We are usually responsible
for our own infestations, after all.
The relationship with the mice is codified
“you are vermin,
I am not.
I will ****
You will die.”
Thus the mice are transfigured,
Christ-like.
Frozen in fear,
frozen in time,
laid bare
on a sticky, chemical
altar of sacrifice.
Saviors
giving their lives
so that we may preserve
those unwanted crumbs
in the vacant space
between the couch and loveseat
where the vacuum won’t reach.
Mar 9, 2018
Mar 9, 2018 at 8:24 AM UTC
Bury me 10 feet deep
put me to sleep like the rest of them;
you know we only ever get the best surprises
like flooded deserts and loss of autonomy;
and things kept hidden are only half-unwritten –
why can’t you move more carefully? You
can see this bruising, this catastrophe –
Why don’t you be a little nicer with her
and try your hand at a softer
mental obstacle course?
Maybe your shoulders wouldn’t strive so hard
if you walked on your feet instead,
but you’re grabbing and grasping and letting
your fingers direct the thoughts in your head;
parasitic infestations ruined all three
of my homes, but you’ll find
the evidence was walled by fire; and ash can hide
most secret pains –
so lull me to sleep with the promise of reconstruction,
but damnation is looming and I’m trying in vain to
un-curse these nightmares, before they further
entangle me;
your empathy shows when I count to three, and then
swallows self-pity and recedes again –
Why do these cycles never end?
Dec 5, 2022
Dec 5, 2022 at 8:29 PM UTC
A virus overwhelmed me
One as quite unique
Different from all others,
Failing to power leak.
Infestations come and go,
But this one wants to stay
No matter anyone’s acts,
It doesn’t go away.
I fought it strong and long
Foiling to my win
Maybe it’d be painless
If I would just give in.
A plague one of a kind
Haunting until so,
A copy is made and sent
Conjuring a friend from foe
Then they’ll live in harmony
The virus and ourselves.
And perhaps a later day,
To hear the wedding bells.
Feb 12, 2010
Feb 12, 2010 at 8:09 AM UTC
I can’t take this any more
It’s truly a brutal cold war
With the deception and spite
Full of anger, pain, suffering we fight
Between family that are now foes
We hit each other with low blows
It’s easy, wicked and rotten
We don’t remember the good, it’s just forgotten
With favoritism and neglect
Without the slightest respect
We are parasitic infestations
Just a group of ****** up generations
Jan 2, 2016
Jan 2, 2016 at 10:16 PM UTC
Privatised education
Who makes the value judgement
This is the curriculum
One way dictation
Guinea pig nation
Grammar schooled politicians
State school interventions
Exclusion barriers set
For achievement prevention
Protection of the upper class
Speak out and its detention
National competition
Increasing grade inflation
Professionals and academics
Know the agendas
Compromise your ethics
Its in your best interests
And join them in
Reinforcing the system
Double bind situation
So preach equality
But have ability grouping
That will diminish self-esteem
And confidence
De-motivate and you get drop-outs
Disaffected generations
Power dominance
Controlling
And hierachy infestations
Of contradictions
Maths Science and English
That's what they're wanting
Music Art and Drama
And it's not worth it
You won't get a proper job
Value diversity
So you test them all the same
Assignments and exams
Product vs process
Learn for the test
Not for the sake of knowledge
May 7, 2014
May 7, 2014 at 4:29 PM UTC
I maintain silence
I prefer better questions
I sleep I eat
I drink
I *** I ****
you do that too anyways
We could talk better
Some art curating
Or an evolving idea
I wish no wastage of words
no more energy waste
all that is done
All that has been done
Talk is for birth
for new borns
and for infestations
Jan 3, 2015
Jan 3, 2015 at 1:57 AM UTC
Sometime an umbrella’s just a rabbit
and sometimes horses are never to be rode upon.
Sometimes a mother’s tears are foolish
and sometimes sons don’t want to come home.
Sometimes pearly whites and smiles surround
and sometimes teeth detach and dagger backs.
But a dream is just that, “a dream is just that” –
but a wandering, but a dread, if only damnation;
and a “ta, tada, aha!” The wizard’s returned before
we realize we’re all magic, fooled and the foolish –
Incarnations, infestations, imaginations,
and messes come ends, damnations, the victims.
Heaping distress and all of our own accord,
your accord, our accord, notarized the
Nooses ‘round our necks.
Oct 22, 2016
Oct 22, 2016 at 12:26 AM UTC
Since ancient times crowds of men have asked:
What is the purpose of life?
Me included.
Since my later teens and into my sixties
I have wrestled with this question.
To me, it was never about wealth or status.
People waste their time
With such things.
So what should we do
That is Really Good?
WHAT is “Good”?
For me, Life as such is Good.
What use is the Universe,
With its sprawling galaxies
Of fire, rock, dust, water:
Incredible vistas
Shock awe
Eternally Infinite
What use without
A Witness?
We are that Witness,
But should we be much more?
And all I can think
Is to cherish all that lives,
As life itself
Is the most wondrous thing
Of all.
Our purpose then is to nurture
Life at it’s best:
To make it better and better:
Stronger and brighter
More intelligent
With more Love and compassion.
Some will say
Why ask?
Extraterrestrials may have
Another View.
We may be but bacterial infestations
To be cleansed away.
Yet other “Aliens” may well agree
With every word I type.
And like many of us humans
They may be warning
That we must take
Much better care
Of this Paradise
We call Earth.
I call myself a “Lifist”
A believer in
Christianity at it’s best
(But Not it’s worst),
And other Religions too…
So let’s take the best
Of these Beliefs,
Nurture Nature,
Love Life
And just
Get on with it.
Paul Butters
© PB 31\7\2019.
Jul 31, 2019
Jul 31, 2019 at 5:25 AM UTC
Grow,
Good morning, get up, get going, get out, get it?
Get giggity, giggly,
Great, get in, get quite, real g's move in silence, and gesticulations get goons gone,
Go ahead, go forth with great care, go far, go out, get lost, go back,
Grasp green garments,
Go on,
Respire,
Read rhetoric, read rhythm, read rhymes,
Read people,
Respond resplendently, require resolution,
Realize, rain rains, read rain rain gauge,
Risk rewards, run rapidly, run rampantly, run triumphantly,
Rise up, rise on, ride horses, ride waves, ride on,
Red letter days,
Irked?
Inhale, intake, insure, inhibit,
Intuition informs insides,
Imitators idolize, I irk, irritate, insist Immaculate
Inspire innovation, incite celebration,
Inner id ingests infestations,
Ideal installed,
Move,
Make much of it, make mistakes, make mends, make merry, make cheer, make love, make peace,
Mind, mind manners, mind time, mind love, mind peace,
Move, move over, move up, move in, move out, move on,
More so, more smiles, more laughs, more life, more understanding, more peace, more love,
Marvelous magenta muse moves me,
Exhale,
Exhibit excellence, energize everyone,
Eat east, eat in, eat out, eat everywhere, with everyone,
Exhale, exit anger, exit stress, exit breath,
Enters euphoria, enters energy, with ease
Need,
Need no one, need nothing, only neo Nazis,
No, need necessities, need neurons, need Nutella, nourishment,
Now know knowledge, know profound power found in numbers, now know nothing
Restart
Reduce, reuse, recycle,
Reproduce,
Re-energize, refuel, revamp, repeat,
Jul 3, 2015
Jul 3, 2015 at 4:17 PM UTC
Deep within the labyrinthine recesses of my mind
Lies my Id.
Or Subconscious
Or whatever you will.
So when I sleep and dream
My Id presents me with scenes
Full of seemingly incredible detail:
Countless objects set before me
In a wonderfully vivid landscape.
How on Earth does my Id store and display
All these amazing things?
Or is it conning me somehow?
For my Id loves to taunt and tease me.
With dreams of finding myself undressed
In public.
Stressful nightmares of being given impossible mental
And practical challenges to complete.
Of being lost and unable to find my way
Home.
Endless journeys by train and bus
Travelling the country in my quest
To get back in the *****
Of my loving family.
Bee swarms and nasty infestations of bugs.
The Forbidden Planet had its “Monsters of the Id”
And on rare occasions I have woken to continued dreams
Of snakes and people who shouldn’t be there.
And that Giant Eye!
God forbid my sleeping dreams should invade reality,
In the Twilight Zone.
But on the plus side, my dreams can be filled
With seemingly original music
And pleasantries I’d better leave
To your imagination.
Wink, wink.
Paul Butters
© PB 29\1\2024.
Jan 29, 2024
Jan 29, 2024 at 8:55 AM UTC
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.
Aug 11, 2015
Aug 11, 2015 at 4:56 PM UTC
Prayer against evil
Spirit of our God, Father, Son and Holy Spirit, Most Holy Trinity, descend upon me. Please purify me, mold me, fill me with yourself, and use me. Banish all forces of evil from me; destroy them, vanquish them so that I can be healthy and do good deeds. Banish from me all curses , hexes, spells, witchcraft, black magic, demonic assignments, malefice and the evil eye; diabolic infestations, oppression, possessions; all that is evil and sinful; jealousy, treachery, envy; all physical, physiological, moral, spiritual and diabolic ailments; as well as all enticing spirits, deaf, dumb, blind, mute and sleeping spirits, new-age spirits, antichrists spirits, and any other spirits of death and darkness. I command and bid all powers who ****** me-by the power of God Almighty, in the name of Jesus Christ my Savior-to leave me forever, and to consigned into the everlasting lake of fire, that they may never again touch me or any other creature in the entire world. Amen.
Jun 14, 2016
Jun 14, 2016 at 12:09 AM UTC
(Heated, Fiery trials,) by meself.. The time will come When our beloved planet will feel the suns quench, No breakfast or lunch to soothe that sweaty emotion..All time and devotion unravelling childhood memories, Where winters freeze, and you are still left by yourself...Kept, Wept, and melt out, Drawn to a pad of papery apprentice.. Such a menace when others think they know you, to show you such devious inventions..Of evil intention , they live to watch you die. To watch you cry and spill out all inners, Where your platters not entered into win any prizes..Miracles are few these days, The dark has infiltraded, the glooms turned to haze....Soo many Live in materialism and dreameries Lodge, where their cabin of themself is god , for they forgot who they are...phantom masks, fast cars..How a coverup to hide scarred innocence, where childplay rememberance Hits all at once...Who we really are...The cold empty bars are now lovers best friends...What a sad combination...We only have today to do our made out wills, For the numbings soo skilled this time of Infestations...Tretchery is Now the new..ALL HOT DAYS TO COME , none cool, For the furnaces will feel the excite..Days and nights will be mans worst enemy...The moon climbs the cosmic wave to show us all whats to be bound...Speakerphone sounds can no longer show humanity the reality of themselves..When will they see all belonging is there...Will they find it? or forever be Wanderers?
May 9, 2015
May 9, 2015 at 4:52 PM UTC
I've returned to this place, but not how I had hoped
The walls peeling, ceilings drip, floorboards curved and sloped
Mildew spreads around corners and shadows swallow light
Thoughts creep in like whispers, forcing me to write
They're in my head again, the infestations swell
Clawing at my eyelids, the night escapes. Oh well
Perhaps I am the intruder
I left this place to rot
Yet, it's the one who evicted me
It is I who I forgot
Jul 15, 2018
Jul 15, 2018 at 1:30 AM UTC
(Heated, Fiery trials,) by meself.. The time will come When our beloved planet will feel the suns quench, No breakfast or lunch to soothe that sweaty emotion..All time and devotion unravelling childhood memories, Where winters freeze, and you are still left by yourself...Kept, Wept, and melt out, Drawn to a pad of papery apprentice.. Such a menace when others think they know you, to show you such devious inventions..Of evil intention , they live to watch you die. To watch you cry and spill out all inners, Where your platters not entered into win any prizes..Miracles are few these days, The dark has infiltraded, the glooms turned to haze....Soo many Live in materialism and dreameries Lodge, where their cabin of themself is god , for they forgot who they are...phantom masks, fast cars..How a coverup to hide scarred innocence, where childplay rememberance Hits all at once...Who we really are...The cold empty bars are now lovers best friends...What a sad combination...We only have today to do our made out wills, For the numbings soo skilled this time of Infestations...Tretchery is Now the new..ALL HOT DAYS TO COME , none cool, For the furnaces will feel the excite..Days and nights will be mans worst enemy...The moon climbs the cosmic wave to show us all whats to be bound...Speakerphone sounds can no longer show humanity the reality of themselves..When will they see all belonging is there...Will they find it? or forever be Wanderers?
May 9, 2015
May 9, 2015 at 12:11 PM UTC
Whoever brought war to this world
Must have been an evil devil
See, fertile fields idle
Greenness they cradle
But inside them life crumbles
Lives many lives inside their bellies
They cruelly cuddles
What a human’s riddle
When masses in concentrated camps retires
As slowly they falls and expires
A heap of thin eaten bones
Humans as zombies-hell rotten clones
Just stashed skinny skeletons
Returns to humanitarians huts heartbroken
To wait to be just shrines
Of the fatal or battle famines
Fields sleeps still untilled
Occupied only by healthy bushes and shrubs
Humanity die unfilled
Fast of unsanitary outbreaks and scab-scrubs
Land lay undisturbed
Weeds wishing for someone them to pick
Humans perish perturbed
Of traumas, stigmas-too weak and so sick
Of hunger and starvation
Of thirst and malnutrition
Of deaths and devastations
Of infections and infestations
Of war-executions and explosions
Humans die of war-poverty and slavery-suppressions
Whoever brought war
To this well world’s wall
Must have been a devil for all
Can you look at them?
Once or if twice grace you've
Do you see little children?
If still they merit-forbidden!
Withered, shriveled like leaves in dry droughts
Just leanly stretched skins of skeletons
It tries to cry, a hiss like a yawn comes out
A malnourished mass-flame of fragile bones-
A stillborn foetus silently hibernating-mercifully striving living
Patched head becoming deserted and barren
Shrunken skull, inwardly bony discoloured eyes
Bony mandibles, jutting chops-sharp clavicles
Increasingly round tummy above thinly matchsticks of legs
A child hanging on a shrunken shred
Of its slim dermis and her was tissues of coveted *******
And we say she is breastfeeding
Fingers bony like satan's claws, feeble and brittle
On her thin slowly leaving heaving chest
Enjoying mother's nourishing milk
An image, an illusion of her and it sufficiently suckling
Who brought war, war to this side of the world-Africa, Africa!?
© Kìùra Kabiri. All rights reserved.
Feb 22, 2017
Feb 22, 2017 at 3:00 AM UTC
reoccurring nightmares jolt me awake
sleep deprived, I scroll through my phone seeking interpretations
this always leads me down a narrow spiral
a dearth of knowledge littered with lies
I fear most of all the devil, death and bugs
the devil because I’ve been told that I’m ******
death because it is coming to claim all the things I love
and bugs because I’ve lived through too many infestations
But last nights dream was different
I dreamed of beautiful bugs
a swarm at the peak of a mountain
moths swirling around the place that I might summit
a glowing moon, light blue and eerie
snow slowly melting
the air a tentative dusk
Fluttering at the center around the moon,
the red eyes on their wings flashed me a warning
I drew closer
so close I could hear a chitter
a shiver went down my spine
but I walked on
shielding myself through the swarm
a moth separated from the group
approaching me
I began to panic,
worried it would hurt me
fearing that its small yellow tongue might lick my feet
that I would taste the fur on its wings
that we might consume each other
I ran from the swarm down the mountain
down a dark path leading me back to reality
but when my eyes swiveled back open
and my face bathed in the blue light of my phone
I wished that I had stood my ground
what would have happened
if I greeted the moths,
continued to up the mountain,
and bathed in the light of the moon
joining the moths in a dance
Sep 22, 2021
Sep 22, 2021 at 1:04 PM UTC
Shades of bitter and brittle
Frozen through
In deepening shades of blue
Where away from the powder you see very little
Then at once the melting of frustration
Getting ready for the allium invasion
The pale minty expanse
As blades are sprung
In what has begun
The rays and the petals slowly dance
Then comes the warming of inspiration
Getting ready for the allium invasion
The lavender and lilac beckons
As star stained skies spin
To the blossoming world we are in
Mornings first rays will reckon
Then the joyous of infestations
The dandelions are tourists watching the allium invasion
The cold flames shall fall
Upon once green lands
Soon to be choked by winter’s strong hands
Then we can fondly recall
How we long for the perennial celebration
Dreaming of the next allium invasion.
May 26, 2021
May 26, 2021 at 5:05 PM UTC