What’s In The Urn
Strangers offered me to join them in a drink
I met them on a mountain edge while skiing
They seemed like friendly normal people then
So what could happen in a simple cabin?
Finding that which is not there or vanquished
What is there that cannot be perceived?
Placed upon the mantel piece are ashes in the cabin
Brass vase, a receptacle for lost souls sits in repose
A death vase to glare at over cognac
By the sober flames cast by
A fire place glow observed in action
Liquid spirits pour out their poison
In the cozy living room inside the cabin
Drinks alone cannot remove this feeling of distraction
The urn is piercing through my soul
People belong in cemeteries you know
With all due respect for the dead
Scatter them at sea when they‘re deceased
Not paraded around in gloom to cause unease
Or as a center piece for living rooms
I’m not relieved to find it is a lizard on the shelf
To be exact, an exotic iguana family friend entombed
And to assume that fact makes this matter optimal
I beg to differ on that point and voice my opinion later
There must be a plot of ground outside
Or toilet somewhere to flush it down
But better left unsaid, as they are bereaved about the death
And I am their invited guest
Iguana tried consuming the family’s cat
Another favorite pet
It is surmise, that’s how it met its end
Ended up expired inside the urn
The receptacle was there and going nowhere on its own
I swear it follows me from room to room
By embers glow and ash, shadowing my every move
A brass smile casting off the urn, leaving me concerned
I could not take my leave
The container followed me
So I waited, fixated on the thing
Is it coming back to life to eat more bugs or me?
Finding that which is not there
Is easier in the dark
Rising to the occasion of the day that breaks
I must escape the premises to continue skiing
Into the frozen world outside I fly
With no discernible signs or paths to lead or learn
I get away, no time to say good-byes or find my way
Never again will I say; what’s in the urn
Copyright © Earl Schumacker
The wise old owl has come today
To train a young one in the way
Of all the things that it should know
So he can hoot and wisely grow
He'll show this one just what to do
So on it's own it'll fly so true
It's prey will never have a chance
When it swoops down in it's death dance
He'll soar the skies,he'll hide from view
He'll do the things he's been taught to do
Before you know it he'll be all grown
He'll be teaching others that are his own
But for right now he'll have to learn
Of all these things til it's his turn
So that when he's older he will be
The wise old owl on a teaching spree
Copyright © Charles Reese
As I walk through the forest
I hear the silence of the wood
Nature is at contest
Where beasts once stood
The wind rustling the trees
Shaking to the ground
Earth creeping with weeds
Smell nature all around
Creatures climbing high
Beasts burrowing deep
No birds in the sky
Cause nature to weep
As the one on two arrives
And takes nature in threes
Those on four will not survive
Save the five he never sees
This new beast that comes
And ploughs the land
Nature come undone
By this one hand
All the animals they scatter
To lands far and wide
As nature begins to shatter
Turn, to run and hide
Blood spills over the earth
From this hand that strikes
Against nature's last birth
The cry that fills the nights
As the earth turns to mud
I hear the silence of death
With a resounding thud
Nature takes it's last breath
As man turns and walks away
His unholy quest now done
Head hung low in dismay
For now in nature there is none
Falling to his knees
Precious air has gone
Along with the trees
Natures vengeance is long
Too late does man learn
That nature holds all
These things that he yearns
And by ignorance he'd fall
His body by earth reclaimed
To bring about new life
Man's name once shamed
Nature, reborn without strife
Copyright © Sean Taylor
The little girl sat alone on the step
Thinking of what she had said and done
Sad and alone, she needed a friend
Gladly there appeared just the one
A cold nose and a friendly lick
Her dog snuggled up without question
As always he needed no explanations
There with the greatest of canine affection
Inspired by his 1878 picture- Sympathy
go to Allposters.com/
Copyright © Barbara Gorelick
It would be a wondrous thing
If I chanced to see
Unicorns of ocean deep
Swimming nearby me.
Each one with a spiraled tusk
Jutting from its jaw,
Swimming round about me; oh,
I would be in awe!
Clicking, squealing, whistling,
Swimming in their pod.
If I tried to join their group,
Would that seem too odd?
I could try to click at them
With my little tongue.
If I whistled, would they think
Songs were being sung?
Swimming with some narwhals though -
It will never be.
For I’d freeze so deep beneath
That cold Arctic Sea!
Written 10/9/15 in the 7/5 Trochee form for the Narwhal Contest of Skat
Copyright © Andrea Dietrich
The animal of the night has an evil courage as its defense,
And with simple lies it now catches the filthy beast easily,
And can now stand and bask in God’s purest of sunshine,
Whilst valor and glory speak all power to one’s destiny!
Darkness doth now pervade and drinks slowly from that
“Chalice of the Faithless Heathen” who hides among the
Soulless Ones who are consumed by their hateful actions,
And spit thoughtlessly at your good will and human pride!
Hades’ very own dark demons tilt their evil night shades
While justifying the hurt and depravity of an “Ugly Brute”;
A truly lost soul without any mercy, blind—as “He” throws
Freely a nasty spiteful spirit on your earthly fire of reality!
Hence, Hades’ mark and mask of utter darkness and terror
Descend now into the very conscience of your Spirit World;
Burning hot with the force of “The Furies” seeking revenge:
Tisiphone, Megaera, and Alecto all appear sans Merci now!
As their eternal gorgonesque spirits creep upon you furtively,
Your once handsome visage turns into a sad and horrid portrait
Of an old animal soul in the mirror never to see the Light again,
As clouds darkly shade your horizon and fate in Hades’ name!
In this eternal land of darkness, the dead do not suffer this fate
So easily, and cast not without honor in their chains the notion
That fear itself, vice destiny, cries out now for your forgiveness,
As One-Eyed Beggars seek and see the basic good within you!
Each day now fades into its own doom, into a dark mist of evil,
And hides carefully inside a “Mountain of Consciousness” where
Your ethereal spirit knows who you really are—as black snakes
slither slowly and silently toward your spirit-mirrored reflection!
You—that “Animal of the Night,” wear now your deceptive mask;
The reality of who and what you really are makes my skin crawl!
You can never return from this darkest “Pit of Hell” my old friend,
For thy animal-human spirit is doomed to all this darkness forever!
Gary Bateman and Liam McDaid – A Collaborated Poem,
Copyright © All Rights Reserved – November 22, 2015
Copyright © liam mcdaid
Isn't it funny, the coward man is...
Calls himself the apex predator...
Yet scared as a puppy he'll wizz...
Without his hand held terminator...
We fight bulls and cry glory...
While we blind and maim...
To ensure our victory...
By crippling till lame...
Big cats and bears...
Detoothed and declawed...
For he who dares...
To pit dog to be mauled...
Standing with aim from afar...
In the distance his quarry stands proud...
Earths growing battle scar...
His fanfare to the cheering crowd...
If man was no coward...
He'd face this beast alone...
Moving ever forward...
With a dulcet tone...
He'd need no tool of death...
His awe would tenfold...
At the width and breadth...
Of the beauty that nature does hold...
Oh what cowards we are...
To feel superior if only...
We hold the card...
That makes the wild so lonely...
But what greatness we'd have...
To lower and humble ourselves...
At the mighty beasts grave...
Our grief would turn sand to salve...
We cowards that kill...
Abuse and defile and destroy...
And yet this earth will ever still...
Give life to all manner of girl and boy...
So cowards, it is time...
To stand tall and throw off...
The mantle without spine...
And say, today it's enough...
We cowards that were...
Shall kill no thing...
Resurrect and prosper...
All that is living ...
And cowards no more...
We of human race...
Shall love all score...
Of sentient trace...
Copyright © Sean Taylor
Alone or in a group, I can get by,
and also I have friends of whom I’m fond.
It’s even possible that I would die
for one with whom I shared a special bond.
I’m speaking as a dolphin. Could you guess?
Of all God’s animals, that is the one
that shares its traits with me, for I possess
intelligence, and also I am fun!
One skill of mine that I appreciate
is shared by dolphins. Though my sounds aren’t “clicks,”
I have the talent to communicate,
and like the dolphin, I can learn good tricks!
How fun to jump the waves like dolphins do!
Inside warm currents I would swim and play.
Beneath the deep blue ocean, I could view
its beauties, roaming freely every day.
Some dolphins have saved humans from a chase
by sharks! The kindest creatures of the sea
are those that have a smile fixed on their face!
As sweet as they, a dolphin I would be.
By Andrea Dietrich
for Kristen Bruni's Contest:
"If I was Animal What Would I Be"
Copyright © Andrea Dietrich
Well, here I am sitting on the golf course
Watching the fireworks display overhead
Yes, I know I'm not as big as a horse
But at least one golfer I have misled
“Kerplunk"came the ball, bouncing off my shell
Casting it deep in the adjoining woods
That’s when I heard someone yell, “Mulligan”
They ran toward the golfer like a band of hoods
I was wondering how they knew my name
As they all ran toward the errant golf ball
And then banished the golfer from their game
Without asking if my shell had been mauled
There’s much food to be found on the golf course
So I still traverse many a fairway
But it never ceases to surprise me
How my name’s called when e’er balls go astray
Luckily my shell is hard as granite
Golf ball injuries I never sustain
So my Mulligan family moved here
Friendly golfers already know our name
*Written July 20, 2014 and inspired by the time my sister’s ball bounced off a
turtle’s back and into the woods. She’s a two-time hole in one gal, so this was
not a funny story for her.
Wikipedia definition of "Mulligan" - In golf, a mulligan is a stroke that is replayed from the spot of the previous stroke without penalty, due to an errant shot made on the previous stroke. The result is, as the hole is played and scored, as if the first errant shot had never been made. This practice is disallowed entirely by strict rules and players who attempt it or agree to let it happen may be disqualified from sanctioned competitions.
Copyright © Carolyn Devonshire
Cows bellow, low, heads between rails
such large deep sad eyes, such full bags.
For whom do they await, no one home
to let them out, share out their milk.
Not long ago I saw you wandering off with him
his hand caressing your neck, gripping your arm
holding you stiff, obedient to his will
and you were bound to follow, no sound
escaped your lips, and me, why am I watching
for the scene to play out? Don’t we all know
don’t we all grieve, for the coming of that day
when cowl slips down, the bellow, low aches.
You won’t come home, will you my dear.
I guess I paid the right price for a job well done
Your cheating heart won’t bestir us to wait
Never more. This farm is sold outright.
Copyright © Sheri Fresonke Harper
The little snail made his way across the walk
Proudly carrying his brown house upon his back
I stopped to watch him so slowly inch along
Cringing at the sticky goo that marked his track
I admit I smiled, thought him cute in his own way
As he finally made his way into the flower garden
Wondering if he even had a thought or two at all
Or just ate my plants without my grudging pardon
Copyright © Barbara Gorelick
My dog, named Shiva
I had a dog, named Shiva
So very long ago
Then one day I did grieve her
The tears how they did flow
We used to walk for miles
Us two, Shiva and I
Oh how she fills my heart with smiles
As the days they pass me by
My Shiva she took ill one day
My best friend she did die
My days oh, how they turned so grey
As in death she did lie
A dog is such a wonder
Mans best friend he be
My heart it felt like thunder
I was in such misery
When I was sad and miserable
So loving she would be
Oh, Shiva was so wonderful
I adored her endlessly.
17 November 2014
Copyright © Peter Duggan
You’re always dragging on me--
got your sticky icky leavings all
pver the place,
any place most inconvenient.
Always kind of spooky, nervous
but defiant too, back up
step out, get nose to nose
as if to say you’re here for good.
I know it’s you, at night, tasting
my eyes, making me wiggle
and a little itchy
squirmy but never squished, somehow…
One day there’s one of you,
lurking in a corner, the next, a window,
under floorboards, cupboards, skittering
all over my floor and ceilings
and in my clothes so when I undress
there you are, sitting like a star
right on my breast. Okay. I needed that.
To scream. Whack at something
so terribly invasive, biting,
so terribly unobtrusive, until
you leave your icky sticky leavings
as bumps all over me. When
were you walking over me, in the dark
while I dreamed, taking over
saying I’m a leaving little spider left.
Copyright © Sheri Fresonke Harper
We bought a cow at the state fair
and loaded her on the truck
to take her home, but halfway there
we had a stroke of good luck.
We hit a rock, and from the crash
she bounced away down the hill,
she mooed and made an awful splash
in the stream beside the mill.
The water was still awful cold,
the cow already freezing…
resisting as we roped and pulled
her breathing turned to sneezing.
My father said this won’t end well,
he couldn’t have been more wrong.
He thought the cow, we ought to sell
but changed his mind before long.
We took her home, our shook up cow,
unloaded her in the barn.
We thought we’d let her sleep for now
then see to her in the morn’.
The next day, just around sunrise,
the cow already awake.
I milked, and to my great surprise,
I got a frozen milkshake!
Copyright © The Grahamburglar
Great Grandpa Zerbst, I wish was here
I'd like him still around
He had a herd of Hereford cows
His farmin' sense was sound
He passed away when I was young
I'd only seen him twice
But even though his life was rough
I'm sure that he was nice
At first, he had some horse-drawn rigs
To grow his crop of wheat
A tractor then, in place of them
That had a metal seat
He had a herd of ninety cows
A huge Wyomin' spread
But now a herd of oil-rigs
Are drillin' in their stead
A lot of things Great Grandpa knew
From distant Germany
But now these things I wish I knew
Are buried 'neath a tree
Copyright © Isaiah Zerbst
a warm white coat,
and wraps a scarf
around her throat.
She knits the trees
lacy white caps,
and carpets with snow,
growing things that nap.
Then in the morning,
when hungry creatures wake,
she fills their bowls
with frosted flakes.
Copyright © Darlene Gifford
Sam, the box turtle, sauntered down deserted gravel road;
when he bumped into Elli, a gorgeous, slender, green toad.
Together they stopped to admire the rustic scenery;
noting, Bunny would like hiding eggs in all that greenery.
Easter will be in a few weeks, kids will have fun hunting eggs;
Bunny would be quite busy hopping on two spindly legs.
Sadie, a monarch butterfly fluttered into their path;
she was perched on a tree branch taking her daily sun bath.
“Hi!” she said to Sam and Sadie. “Have you heard hottest news?
The Easter Bunny was murdered, on the headline reviews.”
Sam and Sadie were speechless, much too shocked to say the least;
who murdered the Easter Bunny, who was the wicked beast?
No one could think of anyone who wanted Bunny killed,
the whole town was suspected, everyone thoroughly grilled.
It couldn’t be Sam or Sadie; they were not at the scene;
whoever it was, they were desperate, extremely mean.
Small town sheriff investigated the deadly crime site;
there lay Bunny sprawled along the roadside, eggs colored bright.
Struck down by angry mother hawk, thought he robbed her love nest;
sheriff pulled out the handcuffs, placed mother under arrest.
Copyright © 2013 By Caryl S. Muzzey
Copyright © Caryl Muzzey
Never a girl
so pretty as she
hair in pink curls
& a bunny called Dee
So happy together
always best friends
no matter the weather
they'd play til the end
A sweet tooth she had
whipped, frosted & candy coated
it all made her glad
& sometimes even bloated
It happened one Sunday
in the morning she'd wake
they'd all hear her say
"Let them eat cake!"
Copyright © Lizzy Love
Note: Following a rash of local breakins, thieves murdered two people who happened to be
at home when they entered. This event produced a lot of anxiety for me and James was
kind enough to help divert my attention by joining in this write. Many thanks to James, Tim
and Dane Ann for their support during this difficult time. -- Carolyn
A hungry gray feline sees a mouse; quickly does she pounce
Instincts come into play as jungle creatures eye their prey
Natural selection rules the vast animal kingdom
By striking fast they earn the right to live another day
We read in the papers and we watch on the news
As I look out my window, and ponder man's thoughts
What do we see, through our eyes as we view
Our ability to kill and leave one's life nought
Complicated survival games play out each strenuous day
From the frigid Arctic tundra to torrid dark jungles
Beasts on the prowl are trekking nature's intended path
Another victim falls as distant thunder rumbles
Opportunists linger as the perpetrators dare
Man stalking down dark alleys and dimly-lit streets
Confronted, accosted in criminal stare
Where the innocents in danger, generally meet
Other members of the animal kingdom have no choice
They slay only to keep themselves and their families alive
But it's man who plays the most dangerous of games
Killing for thrill, politics or greed; how can man survive?
It's the evil of man who takes what he wants
With the blade of a knife, with his terror taunts
His escalation from flint to gun
This most wonderful world in masculine haunt
If man continues to develop harsh weapons
The skies may explode in carnivorous fashion
Consuming not just one animal species, but all
Leaving angels to mourn the death of God's creations
Copyright © Carolyn Devonshire
She prowls the night
with clenched jaw and pride,
nothing able to smite
her remorseless stride.
The ominous reflection of moon
shines forth from devouring eyes
of a nocturnal beauty spun on the loom
of the Creator's bid and sighs.
Grace moves her every limb
and she precedes an enraged scream
caused by ruins of a forest now grim
and held alive by all but one stream.
Her claws prophesy of vengeance
though her heart yearns for reconciliation.
Yet now there would be no leniency
for a soul's annihilation.
Now on journeys through lush valleys and ashes
she will embark
until all that remains after furious thrashes
will be the tigress' mark.
Copyright © Robyn Thomas
Rumor has it on heavens above
Among the angels’ divine sphere
That God after very much though
Decided in man’s life to interfere
For He has observed Man’s mistakes
Which lately too many came to be
To endanger the whole of creation
Act with which God can never agree
So the Lord has most recently chosen
The book of life before long to reprint
Revising certain of its very old chapters
While others out will leave, He has hint
The concern of humans is now to know
Which chapters the book will not contain,
Which are going to be, somehow, revised
And which intact will forever remain
What was heard through the vine though,
It was Man’s huge and unbearable vanity
That made our almighty Lord and creator
To finally exclude the chapter of humanity
The reason our God in His infinitive wisdom
Reached such unexpected for Mankind conclusion
Is the fact that Man during his reign on earth
Has hurt our planet with his insensitive intrusion
It might still be time for Man overall to be saved
If he started correcting his many mistakes soon
Beginning by respecting life and the whole planet
And stop behaving as a dim-witted buffoon.
© Demetrios Trifiatis
17 APRIL 2014
* According to UN’s most recent report (March 2014) “We are in an era where
climate change isn’t some kind of future hypothetical,” said Chris Field, one of
the two main authors of the report, and Rajendra Pachari chair of the IPCC
(Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change) added: “Nobody on this planet
is going to be untouched by climate change.” For that UN suggested measures
to be taken immediately for to save the planet.
Moreover, the Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences ( PNAS),
announced that " Researchers have found out that pollutants are strengthening storms ...plus endanger the health of people."
Copyright © Demetrios Trifiatis
(I'd Pay a Million)
He's an ordinary gray, long and lean,
relieved by ashen whiskers and chin.
A perfect white 'V' marks his breast
and one snowy paw mocks the rest.
What is he worth to this old friend
when dozens can be had of his kind?
Some are more worthy of love and trust
and others are spared his hoary crust.
But daily I treasure his sweet purr
and gently stroke his ordinary fur.
I rest my eyes on his rangy form
and rue the day when he'll be gone.
Copyright © Cona Adams
Some cat entered my room one night
I thought it was a ghost
It smelled like something had just died
But I must oblige my guest as the host
I turned on the light and there it was
An obnoxious opossum at best!
Whoa! Forget my host duties, cous!
Take the room—I’m an unhappy guest!
I left the house with a shutter
Before I realized I was heavily surrounded
By cats on all sides, up and under
The house they had all just rounded!
In truth I was perturbed on all levels
That I began to realize in horror
That damn opossum had spawned these little devils!
And tonight I must end this terror!
I then ran straight to the kitchen
Aware of the opossum inside
If I give up the tuna and ditch um’
Perhaps I’ll escape this night alive
The persistent cats scratched at the holes
Those buggers—those meddlers!
They could have been thieves—if not trolls!
Their yowls would scare sumo wrestlers!
Worst of all in this dilemma
Tomorrow was grocery day
There were no more cans of tuna
All my fish had swam away!
Somehow one got in
And the rest came barreling through
I ran toward my room to him
The opossum looked so distressed and blue
The little beady eyes pierced my soul
And I knew from then on he was my friend
He only meant to hide from the furry little trolls
And escape a most pitiful end!
I made up my mind at last
And picked up my trusty broom
Come on in—I dare yah tah pass!
Ain’t no feline coming through this room!
Glowing eyes burned with intent
And the yowling grew loud as hell
The little bullies think they can take my guest!
They’ll fly like birds they will!
That night was a battle like none other
A battle I will proudly say I won
I gained the friend of my life—a brother
My pet’s a load of fun!
As much as I love a neighbor cat
They are a little scary as a race
Thankfully a broom will push them back
And put them in their place
My opossum is a sweet little thing
And I protect him with my life
I’ll never judge a critter again
Till actions bring it to light
Copyright © Laura Breidenthal
The seemingly tranquil sky
blooming with stars soon
pierced by a distant cry
that seems to swoon.
Beneath dense trees standing tall
to touch dark canvas painted
after dusk, prowls the epiphany of all
mother nature’s tainted.
The wise are often alone
and the dangerous hated,
but they express in moan
their solitude, once more grated.
Gradually their voices unite
in a song across the valley,
seeming to smite
all of innocence’s nest.
The moon in her splendour moves
to comfort the carnivores that commence,
and yet her beam soothes
not the beasts’ sense.
Torn between wrong and right
the moon spreads her swanlike wings amidst
the howls of her lovers, the kings of the night…
among the wolves in the mist.
Copyright © Robyn Thomas
For those who've never owned a dog
Your life has been missing a treat
The greatest feeling ever known to man
The epitome of love at your feet
Most loyal companion we've ever known
Our Golden Retriever is that
The most happy joyful disposition ever
We learn a lot from this fact
In spite of all of our many problems
These guys are always there
They cheer us up and help us realize
Life's simple secret is to share
Share the love that's in everyone's heart
Nothing's more important in life
Doggies know, pay attention my friends
Their loyalty gets rid of our strife
© Jack Ellison 2014
Copyright © Jack Ellison
Time runs fast when we are young,
As fast as human eyes can blink.
Turn away and there it goes,
What youth we have will slowly sink.
It runs with legs that won’t tire
So that your aging heart may sleep.
Close your eyes and let it fall,
The fruits you’ve reaped are yours to keep.
Does the river dry when you
Have passed the rapids of this ride?
Open your eyes so you may see
The world you’re bound to on this tide.
Copyright © Eric Thomas
Early one Christmas morn
my eyes flew open wide,
found no gifts under the tree
so I ran to look outside.
Everywhere, on the ground
lay mounds of fluffy snow
and parked right in front,
topped with a big red bow,
was my trusty old wagon
full of presents galore.
Four eyes peeked out and
made my emotions soar.
Two furry little playmates
to fill the hours of my days
full of love and amusement
with their wild, playful ways.
Copyright © Cona Adams
Black cat lays on low fence wall,
veiled in cover of night.
Spell broken by owners call,
evenings victims respite.
Copyright © Bonchance Longfall
Her name is Apogee Sausalito,
she is tiny, feisty and black;
when she romps with Tricia,
she thinks she's a cat.
The crafty feline hides
on the dining room chair;
'round and 'round the table,
the dog circles her there.
Behind the tablecloth,
the cat keeps watch;
reaches out with her paw,
and gives S'Lito a swat.
It's a game they both love;
each day's regular routine,
we enjoy their frisky antics
with morning coffee and cream.
Copyright © Cona Adams
Kooky cow,short- horned with humped back from east,
Thick white furs spotted like the jungle beast,
Your long brownish-black tail drives off the flies,
Thanks! O` egret for picking off its lice.
Slow chewing of cuds deep into the night,
Legs shaking, teeth grinding a normal rite,
Grass cutting diastema with mucus nose,
dripping down slowly to add to this dose.
All-day your body moves rickety way,
Sluggishly lying down like potter`s clay,
Milk oozing from a brown nipple big breast,
Rancid and congealed on the skin like crest.
CONTEST:"The Synathroesmic Cat" sponsored by Suzanne Delaney
Copyright © olusegun Arowolo