Poem | |
Preserver of Liberty
After the ashes are scattered from my urn
If the Lord should give me a chance to return
There is no doubt which animal I’d be
An eagle perched in the nest of an oak tree
National emblem of the land of the free
No predator would dare pose a threat to me
My eggs would be safe till the hatchlings were born
And with pride my white, feathered cap would be worn
Freely I’d fly over fields of golden grain
Circling o’er waterfalls of snow’s melting rain
Statuesquely I’d pose as my national emblem
And fiercely I’d fight to defend our brethren
From my aerial view, I’d always protect
This treasure, our nation, with deepest respect
With wings spread out, I’d keep guard nationwide
God as my mentor, Holy Spirit my guide
By Carolyn Devonshire
For Kristen’s “If I Was Animal What Would I Be?” contest
Poem | |
Blades of grass, wet under foot, insect eyes
Dusk, offset by the cricket orchestra
Muted and receding into the trees and bushes,
Tickled by the wind, rattling snake tail wind
While we may be in the company of wolves,
A long legged friend is late for the party
Eyes, little iridescent stars
Attending to each one, and look there,
There she is, making the most beautiful geometry
Parallels within the octagons, pulling silks
An arm for every task, little perpetual motion machine
Is that the Queen of the Night under the rusted iron?
A forlorn lady, black patent leather, kill a man, maybe two
With her danger red symmetry, oozing with youth
And a penchant for paralysis, no one can resist her wine
Then there's the hall of cob webs, threadbare handkerchiefs
Left by ladies who exhausted all of their company
To be a spectacle under the moon, in the wood pile
Dressed up in the finest furs, all earth tones
Stepping out to introduce themselves in girlish droves
Venus of another sort, these little cursed jezebels
Hovering on the skin of the water, or on the red brick wall
Must frequent every happy corner, and slip away at a moment's notice
A real lady always knows when to say goodnight
Such graceful exits through cement cracks
Back to the parlor, to glow in the dark
And they become spiders again
Poem | |
This world of trouble soon will pass
For there beyond the crystal glass
A lamb and lion tread the grass
Beside a lass, beside a lass
This cord of present time shall break
And hate and fear shall flee and quake
Oh, may all vice this earth forsake!
And love awake! And love awake!
Oh, see him walk 'neath mighty trees!
The king of beasts; what strength and ease!
Yet now content this lass to please
Her hand to tease, her hand to tease
Behold! A pleasant form and face!
The child of beauty crowned with grace!
Fair Una treads at even pace
A better place, a better place
~ The form is Monotetra~
~Based on the painting 'Una and the Lion' by Briton Riviere. Here is a copy and paste link.
Poem | |
God told old Noah to build an ark,
To make it out of gopher bark.
Noah did as he was asked,
And worked until he completed the task.
Then God told Noah to gather the beasts,
Two of every kind, the hes and the shes,
So that when the earth is dry again,
They can procreate, new life begin.
All the animals were good, except for the rabbits.
Though small and cute, they had some bad habits.
Quiet and stealthy, they would roam around,
Hiding in dark corners where they weren't easily found.
You might be wondering how bunnies could be bad,
But you need to remember the reputation they have.
Hiding in the shadows, what do you think they're doing?
They're not playing hop scotch - they're cuddling and wooing.
Now cuddling and wooing isn't such a bad thing,
But rabbits are known for quickly multiplying.
Though Noah tried to keep the bunnies apart,
He was no match for their affairs of the heart.
So when it came time, the ark to depart,
The animals came out two by two like the start.
Two by two they strolled off the ark,
After being cooped up, getting out was a lark.
But then came the rabbits and to Noah's dismay,
Not two but hundreds were coming his way.
Then the Lord told them all to be fruitful and multiply.
Noah looked at the rabbits and let out a sigh.
Kim Merryman 6/11/13
For Robert Heemstra's "Noah's Ark" contest
Poem | |
Spaniel dog breeder:
Parrot who mimics a Spaniel's bark:
Book on how to care for Cockers:
Originally from England, a well-rounded Spaniel stays in shape by playing:
Then showers and dresses by its:
Proportionally, male Dachshunds have:
(But size isn't everything)
Dachshund making critcal life choices:
A dog in Medieval France:
French dog's brain:
A French dog breeder raises:
(Cheated on that one)
Lassie was a level-headed dog and never engaged in:
Reared in a lovng environnment, she was a rather:
Bred in the capitol city of NC, making her a:
To commemorate her frequent (and often rowdy) visits to N.O. a streetcar was renamed the:
Snoopy immigrated to the States but alas, was found not to be a:
Thus he was deported back to England but was promptly knighted by the Queen becoming a:
Now a celebrity, he even has an entourage of nubile young female beagles named:
Footnote: He is also a regular on the foxhunt circuit where it is rumored that he is often allowed to cheat, prompting howls of protests from outraged and exhausted cohorts...
Poem | |
But you—the wild one
You were compulsive, fiery and inventive
I had my share of the wild and free
But you were molded from them—with insane beauty
Despite our differences we remained together
Perhaps you think I mean to save you—tame you
But I merely long to contain the sun
And hinder the pervasive burns
So that in so doing, I may always keep you warm
For cold wild shall destroy
As warm wild shall invent
Searing wild will one day save the world
And then destroy it all the next
Dear beloved one,
I saw you amongst the wild horses
I did not dare touch you
Because I was afraid of Change
But Change was a delight—an apple to your eye
And I did not realize that Change was embedded in my very being
So when you shyly approached me,
I knew you were hungry
I fed you ample laughter and music
And soon I gained your highest respect
Along with a thousand other mystical blessings
I will not always remain by your side as if I am among you
But perhaps I shall linger at a distance—level to your luminosity
As words continue to flow, I shall slowly inch myself forward
To be frank—you are the greatest companion in my world
Hot or cold—seared or chilled
You will always remain among the wild and free
And that race is sadly. . .
Tell me you shall never become me
In honor of you,
One day I will reach out my quivering hand
And you will consume the Apple of Friendship
Look beside you
As was inevitable—
I have changed for the better
Because you are—and always will be
My very greatest friend till the end
-this Ode was meant to be altogether; I hope you enjoyed reading, and thank you-
Poem | |
He wondered if his verse was made for fools
and cretins that splish-splash alongside whales
composing dull sonnets was chased by bulls
- by elegant giraffes and racing snails.
Amid the chickens in his country cot,
while gulping bourbon the pig-farmer writes
his scribble verse turns to an artless blot
and straight he gulps one more for his insights
Oh, detrimental muse of his confused,
absconding inspiration that evades
his talent which was alcohol-abused,
and like the content of each bottle, fades:
......Inspiring advent of a healthy burp
made pigs and chickens to comment "superb"!
© G. V. 06-27-2013 All rights reserved
Sponsor: Judy Konos
Contest Name: The Lazy Contest
Poem | |
The raven sat perched upon the sacred book of Poe.
Squawking and scolding with all his might, ranting,
Ravening making such a cussing fuss, I had to ask him
Dearest Sir, just what is up with all this ear retching noise?
Now old Mr. Raven, he’s a bird that not afraid to speak his mind,
Or showing his temper once his feathers have been ruffled.
Well after unpuffening and calming down, he turned around looked
Straight at me, well lad he did say, I’m tired of all this Halloween
None sense you see.
Where does humanity get off, blaming the poor raven for the dark
Things he does, calling us the havengers of death, or omens sigh of
Bad luck, I just don’t get it the Raven spoke?
Why don’t they blame someone else like the Vulture for heaven’s sake,
He’s a great candidate for such forebodings activities, circling the dead
And such does he not, that should give somebody a clue or too?
I mean come on said the Raven, look at bloody evidence smeared all over
Him it does not take a rocket scientist to realize, he’s been up to know good.
But know the Raven, gets blamed for all the superstitious none sense, of this
Bewitching holiday, because he’s the easiest fellow to blame, and a poet’s
Quatrain about some chick known as Lenore, a women I’ve never even meet
So I begged his pardon, and tried to walk away but the Raven said, just
Wait a moment son, I have one more think to say, so I held my stand still
And let this old fellow finish.
You humans say don’t judge a book by its cover, well don’t judge a bird
By his distinctive color, just because I’m ebony black, doesn’t mean I’m evil,
Doesn’t the sun raise shine upon my feathers making them shimmer like quick
Silver in the first mornings rays.
I am beautiful for the eyes to behold; it’s not my fault that I’m not the color
Of others that make up the rainbow, instead I’m the color of the softness of night,
With eyes that dazzle in the flickering light of the summer sun.
I’m not to blame for dooms day on coming end of the world, I’m just a bird
Who wishes to be admired, not mocked or made fun of?
Now you may go on your way son of men, I’ve said my peace, and feel better
For myself with the sharing, just make sure you tell others of your kind my
Message, and tell them where it so came from, me the aint RAVEN.
BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
Poem | |
Tiger in a Cage (a stab at men)
Like a caged tiger.
You do not know what is in my den?
There is no worse feeling than the way I pace back and forth repeatedly.
A headless collar is all you see.
The closer I get, the more you seem to pretend.
To you these stripes look more like dots.
As you, continue to hold my lines and strands in your hand.
You stroke my stripes as if they were a loft of dental floss.
An ORANGE all squishy and rot.
Rough and tough!
You cannot peel what you cannot feel.
You do not know me at all?
You trust me.
You lace me.
You cannot describe the buds.
You cannot feel my fingertips.
A taste of nothing out of your lips.
Indian BLACK streaks in my skin.
How did you manage to even get in?
We mount this unspeakable stability.
A man-eater swallowing her growl.
This hunger is piercing throughout my veins.
Hiding the powerful black star sapphire in my eyes.
Every move I plan ricochets.
A tiger, a tiger in her cage.
Only in your world, I am my own prey.
My wildness is rarely found above my skin.
Every day I wear this heavy coat, my stripes continue to sink in.
It is a solitary confinement when you are around.
You cannot see the black diamonds under this unbearable frown.
Dingy claws, tapping……
Natures dew bestows a toneless mixture of orange and black tattoo.
These stripes, belittle my self-esteem.
The moon flashes overlapped our taboo.
Never will you see a tigers gleam.
Spirituality waiting to rise above the trees.
It is my choice, to stand behind these unbreakable twigs.
Fertilizing like pollen under a blanket of bees.
Still the effects of your eclipse, bounce off my wall.
I am telling you!
You don't know me at all?
The roads these loads continue to grow.
Far ahead, I am the gravel under your toes.
Crouching like a Tiger hiding the way a dragon breathes.
You don't know how I feel!
I am a tiger in a cage please set me free!
"Breed to Breathe" by Napalam Death
Poem | |
He paces steadily in the ash of evening
while a neck cranes to watch the darkness fall:
an armor on his back hardens amidst
the chatter of leaves at the far end
of a sea where danger waits.
Through a haze, a fearless turtle
stands guard against the rage of winds;
his beaded eyes cautiously
scanning predators as flowers bend
for comfort of night’s droning hum.
Displaying an ancient legacy, he traverses
the mossy dune with shell and flippers
kneading stealthily in cunning motion…
oh, bearer of water and earth
evolves like a mystical ninja turtle
carrying the load to find a jeweled star.
Cyndi MacMillan's Free Verse- Turtle Contest
by nette onclaud
Poem | |
For Rogers contest, magical forest
In the magical forest
It was on a lovely, mystic night
Full moon was shining big and bright
The trees they glistened neath the moon
I strode there whistling a happy tune
There was so much beauty in this place
This magical forest filled with grace
As the stars they twinkled in the sky
This night it raised my spirits high
I heard the sound of a mystic flute
A lovely sound I’ll not refute
As I came across this clearing where
I had no choice but to stand and stare
There were elves and fairies, Goblins too
And they could dance, I’m telling you
As the forest folk all gathered round
And from this scene such joy they found
The bears were there, the foxes too
They formed a band with a kangaroo
A couple of Dingo’s, and a mouse
It was like a kind of open house
Everyone did sing a song
As the mike it went around the throng
Then I awoke, it was a dream!
But oh, it was a lovely theme.
11 March 2014 @ 0500hrs.
Poem | |
Yummy yum yum — possum stew.
Makes my mouth water.
Add ‘taters and ‘maters man.
That’s country cooking.
Side order: speckled
Poem | |
I once had a frog named Ribbit
I was headed to school he croaked, "skip it"
I thought this is insane
When my frog called me by name
I tried to tell others but they wouldn't hear it
So I went to a psychic to get advice
My frog interrupted and ask her real nice
Will I have happiness or sorrow
What will happen on the morrow
Show us that you're worth the high price
She said, Oh I see you with a beautiful lass
She'll be checking out your shiny green a--
Her eyes will be glued to you
Yeah, she can't wait to tear into you
You'll be on pins and needles in her Biology class
Contest: Carol's "Animal Alive"
Poem | |
A pair of tiny orphans
in haystacks their mother made,
down the woodland by a lake,
with grasses tall as arcades.
Pony brought food and water
to the lonely kits each day,
but they wouldn't show their faces
till she strutted far away.
In time they learned to like her,
and slowly joined running games;
one brown-furred, one white bundle
Sugar and Puff were their nicknames.
Just like his mom, little Sugar
got bumped by a passing truck;
while the horse swiftly galloped …
guiding him through the bullocks.
When Pony came visiting
the kitties would run so quick;
right up her tummy to the neck
playing cuddle- and- frolic.
They hopped about the forest
wearing blooms like a shawl,
as Pony seemed content to ride
her friends till break of nightfall.
One day, Puff and Sugar left
not marking signs of contact;
the fun of souls well relished…
how Pony misses her cats.
Carol Eastman's Fable To The Rescue Contest
by nette onclaud
The moral of the story is to cherish
each moment with kin and friends
Poem | |
Sat Mar 05, 2011 1:19 am
Early Morning Chase
Forest so dense and dark
sky dancing with the river sound
dogs begin to race and bark
along beautiful virgin ground
fleeing critters rushing away
some silently scurrying up
as if to boldly say
silly , silly barking pup
the sky loves us still
hunt on down the river
deep into the lurking hills
cold morning fog sends a shiver
Poem | |
Deep in the meadow, where deer run wild in the open,
Papa bear was waking his two cubs from their sheltered den.
"Go out and play Cailyn and Jess, go discover something new,
and always remember you take care of me and I take care of you"
Jess went running as fast as can be leaving her little sister behind.
She wanted to run to the river to see what fishes she could find.
"wait up wait up" Cailyn shouted and hollered at her sisters back.
She followed slowly and carefully inside her sisters foot track.
Jess shouted back "Sis why can't you just let me be.
I don't need you right now and you don't need me"
This made little bear Cailyn so very sad, she ran and hid
Crying and crying from what her sister cub just did
Off in the distance she could here Jess scream
" Cailyn, Cailyn, come help. I'm stuck in the stream"
Cailyn went running as fast as her little legs would go
Having to help her sister, the only friend she did ever know
She just got there in time as Jess was about to fall
Reaching Cailyn helped her out, whew what a close call
The two dirty cubs went home to be with their dad
They fell a sleep in the then den, both of them glad
Papa bear's advice these two little bitty bear cubs was so true
"Always remember you take care of me and I take care of you."
Children's Fable Contest
Poem | |
Whilst walking through the woods one day
A crystal brook there, shone so gay
The sun was shining oh' so bright
As brook reflected all it's light
Buzzing insects all around
Oh' they made a delightful sound
Birds flew upwards to the sky
These parrots made a hue and cry
Carpet of flowers with lovely scent
It seemed this morn way heaven sent
The flowers opened to the sun
This walk for me was so much fun
Sheep bleated from far away
Oh it was such a lovely day
Poem | |
As you know, dear one
I border emotions that perhaps are an enigma to you
You look up to me at times with the highest respect
When you and I both know we are leveled
I dedicate to you a speech above the most precious jewels
My words surely don’t climb among or above the highness of great
But I can tell you straight—I am proud of my feelings
I am proud to have you here on earth with me
You know, when I wrote those words, joyous bells began to ring
I heard them in harmony, for they agreed
Indeed, I had the council of music in meeting
And we all averred that you are a part of me—a rare ligament that I truly cherish
For years you have devoted yourself
Fearing that someday I may leave your side
Oh my sweet, beloved friend—how I have!
I do not wish to degrade you—forgive me!
Allow me to further explain
I have left many times from the comfort of your embraces
Blinded by the enigmatic pangs I so desperately conceal
But these moments of solitude allow me to candidly feel
And as I have said—I am proud of my feelings
For they have led me straight to the epiphanies I shall now reveal:
I saw you amongst the wild horses—amid the paragon of temperament
Their nostrils flared at a presence; like confused soldiers, their eyes darted about
I was crazed into fear that I would be founded out
In meadows near from grasp of humanity
You fled but kept me in eyesight
Wondering and wandering—nearly touching the brink of my world
The bells drew you near—for they were apples to your eye
My laughter reached the highest height
You knew that I was not jeering you
I was delighted by your phantasmagoric magnificence!
The majority grazed on
But your dreams were meant for me to hold
At least only for a little while
For in the bells of laughter and music we were one
Cantering all the more closer to the sun
We felt not the burn, but the warmth of friendship
As life flew on in its graces and disgraces
We drew ever nearer
And soon—as was inevitable—
We felt the sear
As you were familiar with them, you took it like a god
And longed—from me—to take it
Instead I concealed the flame
Because the tame are accustomed
To chastisement, fear and incentive
Poem | |
You bring me peace
With your head on my lap
I gently stroke your wavy hair
Lovingly I bend to kiss your forehead
Thanking God for giving me you
You have become my calm
My loyal friend
Written by Brenda Meier-Hans
Used my Path Number 9
For Contest: Tell me your Number
Poem | |
In the cradled of life's dark garden,
It dwells amongst the murky waters
Behold the creature from the black lagoon.
Nay what is this creation, neither fish or
Yet a blending of both, a high bread's mixture,
Intelligent, and cunning, the last of his species,
Brought unwisely did men, bring beauties
Forbidden fruit, unto this lost oasis of Eden.
For alone sentinel awaits to partake in such
A luscious morsel.
So does it not say in biblical text, go forth
And multiply, by a driven basic instinct he
Cautiously watches from the thicket brush.
What a graceful motion moves within the
She swims idle caught unaware, the bride
To be herself, charms him with every stroke
Across this lake placid.
With Chameleon like stealth, the groom appears,
Taking his prize to their cavey honeymoon retreat.
So tenderly he greets his mate, from shocks
Dreamy like state she awakes, and recoils in repulsion.
No love's scorn, and tragedies broken heart,
Can do more damage than rejections expulsion.
Bullets may have cut the flesh to the bone,
But was it not beauty, which killed the beast,
And the last sight he saw, was his love in
So ends natures final verse in this evolutionary
The creature from the black lagoon now lies
Dead, upon this tragic stage of life.
BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
Poem | |
(Why I'm Still Breathing)
When the cow was dry, she was compliant.
When she calved, she turned vicious
and no fence could hold her,
but she gave milk in abundance,
and Dad refused to sell her.
She chased Mother 'round and 'round the barn
until Mom panicked, climbed the corner logs,
and perched under the roof,
clinging like a cicada shell on a weed-pod.
Beasty pawed and bellowed until Dad came home.
"I could gain on her on the corners,"
Mother said, "because I could turn faster,
but she gained on me on the straightaway."
Plug-ugly tore through the fence,
into the garden, where Mom and I worked.
"Run, Cona Faye, run," my mother shouted.
How did she know? The cow passed Mother
and thundered straight for me. I ran.
At the fence, snorts filled my ears. Hot breath
steamed my back. I saw myself stomped,
pulverized into the dirt. I turned, screaming
at full volume, and flailed my arms
like a windmill in a strong wind.
That old red cow locked her front legs
and skidded like a freight train on full brake.
I seized the moment, and scaled that rail fence.
Poem | |
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
Poem | |
you fan your
strutting in your
shades of green
my door is open if
such an attractive
Poem | |
Wolf And Owl Take Shape
Smoke and red cinders rise together in retrograde simplicity
On counter rotation, winds sing through birch and oak
Marbled moon remains sour yellow through the ecliptic edge
Cryptic night, where owl and wolf find warmth and cover
Nestled in the coarse blanket warn by Tabitha, the young one
Her tribe sleeps through winter
She holds them in her mystic spell, mild heart and smile
They breathe cold mist together in history hallows
Unfolding cold reveals their open eyes
Reaching out into the distance as wolf howls
Unknown mysteries of life feel their kinship
Heaven opens up to them crisp on the fire light
Wolf moves his wool but only slightly in a twitch
Owl takes flight, returns alarmed
Back to the blanket and young girls arms
It rests with comfort feathers by her heart
Wolf and owl take shape, Tabitha smiles
They all take one long last breath and hold it in
Wait till spring to release it again below the mystic stars
10/17/14 Free Verse, Prose Poetry, haibun – Poetry Contest
Poem | |
the jaguar's tear
slides off his single whisker
clouds do sigh
dragged into the river's teeth
they both stretch
the moment of sorrow lost
life leaps on