Fleas are not lobsters.
Yiddish proverbs
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
They Rode My Back Like Hungry Fleas
The teachers I initially had,
Earlier in my developing life...
I despised.
Yes.
I thought them to be insensitive and mean.
And I held onto that belief,
With thoughts they were purposely picking on me.
And it took me years to realize their critiques,
Were from expectations they wanted me to reach.
They knew inside me I can and could do better.
They knew inside me an opportunity,
I did not then see.
But a pushing with their efforts increased my abilities.
The teachers I initially had,
Earlier in my developing life...
I despised.
Yes.
I thought them to be insensitive and mean.
And I held onto that belief,
With thoughts they were purposely picking on me.
Just to ride on my back like a pack of hungry fleas.
'Mister Pertillar?
I've read your essay...
'They Rode My Back Like A Pack Of Hungry Roaches'.
Change 'roaches' to 'fleas'.
Fleas are blood suckers.'
But...
My essay is about teachers I hate.
'I hate roaches too!
However...
If you accept my recommendation,
You will eventually come to realize...
The usage of 'fleas' will have a uniqueness.
And a far better bite.
I suggest...
'They Rode My Back Like Hungry Fleas''
There is no pleasing 'you' people,
Is it?
'Excuse me?
What did you say? '
They Rode My Back Like Hungry Fleas.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Australia's Pride
Now Pat Ahearne, of Ingleburn
Upon the Castlereagh,
Was flush of cash and very "flash"
As shearer-persons say.
At Yankee grab his luck was cool,
At loo he'd lately scooped the pool;
He'd simply smashed the two-up school -
[Assisted by a "grey!"]
And Pat grew then like other men,
His head began to swell;
As he was fly he thought he'd try
The Sydney folks as well.
"Their chances would be mighty slim
Of working any points on him,
When Euchre Bill and Ginger Jim
Had found he was a sell!"
But bushmen's games are not the games
That Sydney spielers play;
A country smarty's "just their dart,"
The city sharpers say.
And Patrick he was taken down
For all he had, but half-a-crown,
Before he'd been in Sydney town
For more than half a day!
'Twas well for Pat, the shearer, that
He'd had the sense to pay
His fare's return to Ingleburn
Before he went away.
It's not what you could call a joke
To find yourself completely "broke";
But Patrick had a splendid stroke
In store for Castlereagh!
He found a shop - an oyster-shop -
Where lobster, crab and cray
Were all alive, and seemed to thrive;
And purchased straight-away
Some crayfish and some lobsters, too
(Such things are cheap in Woolloomooloo),
And caught the Western mail that flew
Towards the Castlereagh.
The train was crowded; which allowed
No sleeping on the trip.
Pat had a flask, and thought to ask
The men to take a nip.
Just then a lobster chanced to find
[...] Read more
poem by William Thomas Goodge
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Big fleas have little fleas upon their backs to bite them, and little fleas have lesser fleas, and so ad infinitum.
Dutch proverbs
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Mock Turtle Song
Will you walk a little faster? said a whiting to a snail
There's a porpoise close behind us, and he's treading on my tail
Don't you see how eagerly the turtles and the lobsters all advance
They are waiting on the shingle, won't you come and join the dance?
Will you, won't you, will you, won't you, won't you join the dance?
(3x)
You can really have no notion how delightful it will be
When they take us up and throw us, with the lobsters in the sea
But the snail replied "Too far, too far!" and gave a look askance
Said he thanked the whiting kindly, but he would not join the dance
Would not, could not, would not, could not, would not join the dance
[Chorus]
(2x)
[Solo]
What matters it how far we go? his scaly friend replied
There is another shore, you know, upon the other side
The further off from England the nearer is to France
Then turn not pale, beloved snail, but come and join the dance
[Chorus]
(repeat to fade)
--Lewis Carroll, "Alice in Wonderland"--
song performed by Steely Dan
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
I'm horrified of lobsters. And shrimp and lobsters are the cockroaches of the ocean.
quote by Brooke Burke
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Poems Of Joys
O TO make the most jubilant poem!
Even to set off these, and merge with these, the carols of Death.
O full of music! full of manhood, womanhood, infancy!
Full of common employments! full of grain and trees.
O for the voices of animals! O for the swiftness and balance of
fishes!
O for the dropping of rain-drops in a poem!
O for the sunshine, and motion of waves in a poem.
O the joy of my spirit! it is uncaged! it darts like lightning!
It is not enough to have this globe, or a certain time--I will have
thousands of globes, and all time.
O the engineer's joys! 10
To go with a locomotive!
To hear the hiss of steam--the merry shriek--the steam-whistle--the
laughing locomotive!
To push with resistless way, and speed off in the distance.
O the gleesome saunter over fields and hill-sides!
The leaves and flowers of the commonest weeds--the moist fresh
stillness of the woods,
The exquisite smell of the earth at day-break, and all through the
forenoon.
O the horseman's and horsewoman's joys!
The saddle--the gallop--the pressure upon the seat--the cool gurgling
by the ears and hair.
O the fireman's joys!
I hear the alarm at dead of night, 20
I hear bells--shouts!--I pass the crowd--I run!
The sight of the flames maddens me with pleasure.
O the joy of the strong-brawn'd fighter, towering in the arena, in
perfect condition, conscious of power, thirsting to meet his
opponent.
O the joy of that vast elemental sympathy which only the human Soul
is capable of generating and emitting in steady and limitless
floods.
O the mother's joys!
The watching--the endurance--the precious love--the anguish--the
patiently yielded life.
[...] Read more
poem by Walt Whitman
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Lobster Berries
It’s the funniest thing
you’ve ever seen,
when Lobsters are fresh
they’re always green, .
But when they are cooked
all juicy and dead
they change from green
to a very bright red
Now raspberries aren’t lobsters
if you know what I mean…
in case you’ve wondered-
they are red when they are green.
Think about it…
poem by John Keefe
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Oxymoron
Oxymoron:
fresh fish
*********
JBO:
'The beach at Sanibel... an Arlington Cemetery of shells.'
*
Every suffocated or strangled fish is first given
waterboarding sensations.
*
Fishes more frequently than
mammals or birds are cut open
alive, while their eyes watch
the knifing of others and their
gills struggle for absent air.
Fish cannot scream.
Greed for suffocated fish flesh causes seals to be clubbed in Canada, Norway, S Africa etc., dolphins to be knifed in Japan, whales to be murdered by
Norwegian Japanese Icelandic and American Inuit fishermen, bears
to be murdered in Alaska, untold thousands of fishermen to
be lost in tsunamis,700 Bangladesh fishermen lost in just 1 storm, Thai fishermen working for slave wages, tens of millions around
the world to die of stomach cancer, food poisoning etc.**
What's in fish? unreported Mad Fish
Disease, nuclear toxins a million
times more concentrated than in
sea water, AIDS from unprocessed
human waste dumped into
the oceans, hepatitis, anaphylactic shock, ecoli,
and other food poisoning,
throat, stomach and other cancers,
mercury, lead, cadmium, arsenic, pbb's, pcb's, thousands
of carcinogenic industrial waste products, and heavy metal sired
brain damage, pfiesteria (red tide) which poisons the fishes
FISH CAN'T SCREAM, FISH TOXINS, FISH STORIES
Are all anglers stranglers?
Dick Gregory: Eating fish liver oil is like eating the filter out of a car.
[...] Read more
poem by O. Anna Niemus
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Balloon Faces
The Balloons hang on wires in the Marigold Gardens.
They spot their yellow and gold, they juggle their blue and red, they float their faces on the face of the sky.
Balloon face eaters sit by hundreds reading the eat cards, asking, “What shall we eat?”—and the waiters, “Have you ordered?” they are sixty balloon faces sifting white over the tuxedoes.
Poets, lawyers, ad men, mason contractors, smartalecks discussing “educated jackasses,” here they put crabs into their balloon faces.
Here sit the heavy balloon face women lifting crimson lobsters into their crimson faces, lobsters out of Saragossa sea bottoms.
Here sits a man cross-examining a woman, “Where were you last night? What do you do with all your money? Who’s buying your shoes now, anyhow?”
So they sit eating whitefish, two balloon faces swept on God’s night wind.
And all the time the balloon spots on the wires, a little mile of festoons, they play their own silence play of film yellow and film gold, bubble blue and bubble red.
The wind crosses the town, the wind from the west side comes to the banks of marigolds boxed in the Marigold Gardens.
Night moths fly and fix their feet in the leaves and eat and are seen by the eaters.
The jazz outfit sweats and the drums and the saxophones reach for the ears of the eaters.
The chorus brought from Broadway works at the fun and the slouch of their shoulders, the kick of their ankles, reach for the eyes of the eaters.
These girls from Kokomo and Peoria, these hungry girls, since they are paid-for, let us look on and listen, let us get their number.
Why do I go again to the balloons on the wires, something for nothing, kin women of the half-moon, dream women?
And the half-moon swinging on the wind crossing the town—these two, the half-moon and the wind—this will be about all, this will be about all.
Eaters, go to it; your mazuma pays for it all; it’s a knockout, a classy knockout—and payday always comes.
poem by Carl Sandburg
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Teapots and Quails
Teapots and Quails,
Snuffers and Snails,
Set him a sailing
and see how he sails!
..
Mitres and Beams,
Thimbles and Creams,
Set him a screaming
and hark! how he screams!
..
Houses and Kings,
Whiskers and Swings,
Set him a stinging
and see how he stings!
..
Ribands and Pigs,
Helmets and Figs,
Set him a jigging
and see how he jigs!
..
Rainbows and Knives,
Muscles and Hives,
Set him a driving
and see how he drives!
..
Tadpoles and Tops,
Teacups and Mops,
Set him a hopping
and see how he hops!
..
Herons and Sweeps,
Turbans and Sheeps,
Set him a weeping
and see how he weeps!
Lobsters and Owls,
Scissors and Fowls,
Set him a howling
and hark how he howls!
..
Eagles and Pears,
Slippers and Bears,
Set him a staring
and see how he stares!
..
Sofas and Bees,
Camels and Keys,
Set him a sneezing
and see how he'll sneeze!
..
Wafers and Bears,
[...] Read more
poem by Edward Lear
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
The Lobster-Quadrille
'Will you walk a little faster?' said a whiting to a snail,
'There's a porpoise close behind us, and he's treading on my tail.
See how eagerly the lobsters and the turtles all advance!
They are waiting on the shingle -- will you come and join the dance?
Will you, won't you, will you, won't you, will you join the dance?
Will you, won't you, will you, won't you, won't you join the dance?
'You can really have no notion how delightful it will be
When they take us up and throw us, with the lobsters, out to sea!'
But the snail replied 'Too far, too far!' and gave a look askance --
Said he thanked the whiting kindly, but he would not join the dance.
Would not, could not, would not, could not, would not join the dance.
Would not, could not, would not, could not, could not join the dance.
'What matters it how far we go?' his scaly friend replied.
'There is another shore, you know, upon the other side.
The further off from England the nearer is to France --
Then turn not pale, beloved snail, but come and join the dance.
Will you, won't you, will you, won't you, will you join the dance?
Will you, won't you, will you, won't you, won't you joint the dance?
poem by Lewis Carroll
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Lobster For Lunch
His face was like a lobster red,
His legs were white as mayonnaise:
"I've had a jolly lunch," he said,
That Englishman of pleasant ways.
"Thy do us well at our hotel:
In England food is dull these days."
"We had a big langouste for lunch.
I almost ate the whole of it.
And now I'll smoke and read my Punch,
And maybe siesta a bit;
And then I'll plunge into the sea
And get an appetite for tea."
We saw him plunge into the sea,
With jolly laugh, his wife and I.
"George does enjoy his food," said she;
"In Leeds lobsters are hard to buy.
How lucky we to have a chance
To spend our holiday in France!"
And so we watched him swim and swim
So far and far we scarce could see,
Until his balding head grew dim;
And then there came his children three,
And we all waited there for him, -
Ah yes, a little anxiously.
But George, alas! came never back.
Of him they failed to find a trace;
His wife and kids are wearing black,
And miss a lot his jolly face . . .
But oh how all the lobsters laugh,
And write in wrack his epitaph.
poem by Robert William Service
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Rondeau
Fleas, stink, pigs, mold,
The gist of the Bohemian soul,
Bread and salted fish and cold.
Leeks, and cabbage three days old,
Smoked meat, as hard and black as coal;
Fleas, stink, pigs, mold.
Twenty eating from one bowl,
A bitter drink -it's beer, I'm told-
Bad sleep on a straw in some filthy hole,
Fleas, stink, pigs, mold,
The gist of the Bohemian soul,
Bread and salted fish and cold.
poem by Eustache Deschamps
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
The Bestiary: or Orpheus’s Procession
(Le Bestiaire ou Cortège d’Orphée)
Orpheus
Admire the vital power
And nobility of line:
It’s the voice that the light made us understand here
That Hermes Trismegistus writes of in Pimander.
The Tortoise
From magic Thrace, O delerium!
My sure fingers sound the strings.
The creatures pass to the sounds
Of my tortoise, and the songs I sing.
The Horse
My harsh dreams knew the riding of you
My gold-charioted fate will be your lovely car
That for reins will hold tight to frenzy,
My verses, the patterns of all poetry.
The Tibetan Goat
The fleece of this goat and even
That gold one which cost such pain
To Jason’s not worth a sou towards
The tresses with which I’m taken.
The Serpent
You set yourself against beauty.
And how many women have been
victims of your cruelty!
Eve, Eurydice, Cleopatra:
I know three or four more after.
The Cat
I wish there to be in my house:
A woman possessing reason,
A cat among books passing by,
Friends for every season
Lacking whom I’m barely alive.
[...] Read more
poem by Guillaume Apollinaire
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Money begets money, and fleas beget fleas.
Maltese proverbs
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Fleas
My thoughts are like fleas,
Eternally skipping.
I try as I please
To prevent their slipping,
To probe them for more meant
Than my wit can utter;
But out of the torment
They quiver and flutter,
Dance, sparkle, and vanish
With insolent ease.
To hold or to banish
My thoughts are like fleas.
poem by Gamaliel Bradford
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Fleas, lice
fleas, lice
the cat too
fleeing me
haiku by John Tiong Chunghoo
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Our Pet's Pets
Suddenly our old cat's a spring chicken,
He's leaping about like a kitten,
It seems much more frequent,
The need for some treatment,
The fleas make him jump when he's bitten.
I'm a flea on the back of your cat,
And I'm not very happy with that,
I know I'm not blameless,
But don't make me homeless,
I don't earn enough for a flat.
Well I am the cat in the question,
Trying to make an impression,
There's no bed and breakfast,
For fleas that are downcast,
Regardless that there's a recession.
poem by Phil Ward
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
You Lie Down With Dogs
(lead vocal - lenny zakatek)
Youre such a cool woman but I love you
Such a cruel woman but I love you
Open up your eyes and realise
Youre such a fool woman but I love you
But you give me all that youve got to give
Cause it sure feels good to me
Im not your only man Im just your lover
Not your only man just another
Open up your eyes and realise
Im gonna take what I can like any other
Cause it dont mean a thing to me
Well
You lie down with dogs you fall in with thieves
Youre gonna catch something but you do as you please
Youre scratchin an itch that nothing can ease
You lie down with dogs you get up with fleas
Get out and find yourself another lover
Why dont you find yourself another lover
Open up your eyen and realise
You dont mean nothing to me Im not your mother
You gave me all that you had to give
But theres a whole lotta fish in the sea
Well
You lie down with dogs you fall in with thieves
Youre gonna catch something but you do as you please
Youre scratchin an itch that nothing can ease
You lie down with dogs you get up with fleas
song performed by Alan Parsons Project
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
A Strange Disease
You make me dream of ghostly fleas
And bring policemen to their knees -
I have to say, because of this,
That loving you's a stange disease.
Sometimes you make me want to sneeze
Because I've smelt some mouldy cheese,
And then afar on distant seas
I hear your laughter on the breeze
I've seen a mousetrap in your eyes
And lots of mice, and more besides,
And yet you make me dream of fleas
By feeding me on bits of cheese.
Can you explain why you do this
And won't allow a single kiss
When loving you's a strange disease
That brings policemen to their knees?
Or do you think you're very wise
By trapping me inside your eyes?
One day I'll snap and start to scream
To break out from this awful dream!
I must insist you hug me too
Because I love you through and through,
You'll realise this love is true
When I stick to you like Superglue! !
The simple fact is plain to see
That you and I make history,
My burning love has made me drool
And in return you've acted cruel,
But will this poem ever end
Like the bitter parting from a friend?
Please stick to me like Superglue.
Whatever you do, I'll do too! !
poem by John Thorkild Ellison
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!