Quotes about squirm, page 7
Cat Peace
What? What’s up with you guys?
can’t a cat have peace in one’s own home, yeah?
never seen a cat eat before?
can’t you just mind your own business
and let a cat do a cat’s business of eating, ha?
HA! - what’s that laugh for?
and for goodness sake put away that camera
You think I’m cute, ha?
wait till I get my paws on you
and a flick of my tail while I’m in mid-air
will take care of your camera
What, you some kind of paparazzi or what?
OK, let a cat eat and you mind own business, yeah?
Oh, I’m really suspicious about you guys
Maybe you’re hungry, yeah?
go get your own food guys;
stop looking at cat food
or at cat as food – I’m really not sure about you guys
You’ll eat anything!
OK, jokes aside
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poem by Raj Arumugam
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Todgrin Tooled Up
Todgrin tooled up.
Had the names of the perps,
Their whereabouts,
Who they were and why
They shot his brother.
He stared at his reflection
In the mirror, took in
The hard eyes, the steely features.
He rehearsed his routine,
How he was going to get
The perps, get them alone,
See the shit scaredness
In their eyes, take his time,
Stretch out the anxiety
In them, see them squirm.
He recalled his brother’s
Last words, mumbled through
Blood and pain, saw the bullet holes,
The mess of body. He looked
At the mirror one last time,
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poem by Terry Collett
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Poisonous Words, Sinking Ship
You stand by watching silently
as I rake up the pieces of my heart
You tilt your head as if confused
as I stoop down to gather the shards
back to my chest
But some pieces are bent
and the puzzle cannot be completed as before
A different, demented picture it must now make
I move to sit, to stop and think and you,
you stay where you are
I fumble my heart in my hands
trying in vain to make everything fit
and with each wrong trial I feel
a stabbing sensation within
but detached, an external force
that afflicts me internally
Oh wait, perhaps that's just you
But you don't seem to grasp
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poem by Argentine Tango
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Kingdom Wishes
The cloak begins to slip off their backs.
No stepping aside or stepping to avoid,
Attacks.
This duo on top...
Squirm to bring chaos,
They started to a stop.
And their bark is sparking new revelations!
They market doom and holocaust scenes,
To demean the realities of common man!
They remain in conference with plans,
Not yet revealed!
No other ones are fearing their fate
With created anger and hate...
Like they do!
And the dwindling few that follow them
With zeal and nervousness!
And no one benefits from their command...
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poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Holding Hands With The Devil
You made the rope you're expected to hang yourself with.
Now as you try to squirm and twist yourself out of it.
Let me ask do you regret it?
Did you live the good life if only for a very short time?
Money to destroy.
Money to control.
Oh in this god forsaken world.
So many treasure troves buried deep within the sand.
All one has to do is dig.
But it would go so much faster with the right tools.
How about I loan them too you.
A debt can always be repaid.
Come on man what do you say?
Holding hands with the devil.
He says lets go play.
You say okay.
He says follow me this way.
Let me show all the reason why you shouldn't pray.
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poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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The Road to Roundabout
Some say that Guy of Warwick
The man that killed the Cow,
And brake the mighty Boar alive
Beyond the bridge at Slough;
Went up against a Loathly Worm
That wasted all the Downs,
And so the roads they twist and squirm
(If a may be allowed the term)
From the writhing of the stricken Worm
That died in seven towns.
I see no scientific proof
That this idea is sound,
And I should say they wound about
To find the town of Roundabout,
The merry town of Roundabout,
That makes the world go round.
Some say that Robin Goodfellow,
Whose lantern lights the meads
(To steal a phrase Sir Walter Scott
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poem by Gilbert Keith Chesterton
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A Simple Matter
My pencil is on the floor
Just what am I to do
I'll not get it with my feet
As the other children do
The test has already started
I'm in danger of falling behind
If only a fellow student
Would return it in ample time
My palms are now sweating
My frustrations beginning to show
No talking is permitted
Thus my pencil lies below
If my eyes were to wander
For a helping hand to find
Would my teacher be believing
Or would questions of cheating be defined
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poem by Robert John Meehan
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My Epitaph
Oh, praise me now if you would please
My soul with soothing flatteries.
Praise with my living clay agrees.
'Tis sweet, I vow.
Give me kind words while I can feel
The modest blushes gently steal,
What time my virtues you reveal.
Oh, praise me now!
For, when the vital spark has fled,
No matter what kind words are said,
I'll simply go on being dead
And take no heed.
Or if, perchance, beneath the clay,
I hear some kindly critic say,
'He was a boshter'in his day!'
'Twere hard indeed.
'Twere bitter hard to be confined,
Gagged by grim Death, while fellows kind
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poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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Disquieting Silence
Every argument raised and disclosed,
Has resulted in an environment exposing misdeeds.
Fragmented by incompetent self indulgence.
And contradictions upheld with blatant hypocrisies.
Overwhelmed by indecent and decadent depths!
For many decades swept,
Under a rug to keep philanthropic acts of deceit,
Neatly kept!
Although known and shared behind false smiles bared.
And revealing a pain no longer hidden by restraints.
That can be maintained to masquerade treason.
Or complaints of depleted resources hoarded.
The reason their barks are now loudly heard,
To confuse those upset.
Believing their best interests are being threatened.
By a charading chase for terrorists,
On foreign lands nesting!
As they who fight these aggressions...
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poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Song of Insane Gardener
Oh, I dance upon the lawn in the cold, white dawn,
And I gloat upon the corpses of a countless million slain;
Where the frost about my feet spreads its winter winding sheet
There I chuckle and I chortle as I chant my mad refrain;
'Lime and sulphur, Paris green, arsenate of lead,
Benzole couldn't kill 'em; but they're dead, dead, dead.'
Men have said I went insane when the Summer brought its bane:
Beetle, bug, and butterfly, weevil, wog and worm,
And a thousand million thrips with my garden came to grips
Plus a plague of things that fly and creep and crawl and squirm.
Lime and sulphur, Paris green, arsenate of lead,
They sneered at 'em, and leered at 'em, and gaily gorged ahead.
They fell upon my fancy phlox, hyacinths and hollyhocks;
Amaryllis, antirrhinum, lupin, lily, all were lost.
All my garden's vanished glory now remained a sorry story,
While, dismayed, I sprayed and sprayed and reckoned not the cost.
Lime and sulphur, Paris green, arsenate of lead -
Vain were these till nights afreeze dire destruction spread.
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poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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