Poem | |
Where cold stars exist in the dark,
serene winds whisper to trees
and scarce human ears can listen,
lone songs wail in the distance
in frozen moon's silver spotlight,
a mark left where paws had paused.
Written by: Kelly Deschler. January 16th, 2015
Inspired by creature #3 Coyote
nette onclaud's contest - NIGHT CREATURES
This poem was also inspired by actual events. A few weeks ago, I discovered
some large animal paw prints that were left in the snow, near my home. I later
found out that the tracks were made by a wolf.
More great poems below...
Poem | |
Across the Bayou Waters
Into vast trails of wilderness
I follow a sound, a sullen scent
He was out there,
hairy large and in charge
Drugs under the beastly moonlight
Heavy torrents swept me in
Deep, down and dark
Under a hidden den
Between the moon and stars
I gaze into a world unknown
A comparison of salt water and bonnets
Lord of the forest deep
Entrapped in a romantic secret sonnet
Over the corner in every shadow
Red Auburn hair, above a 12 foot pair
Daring to face the lone gallows
In one peek
I observe it was not made by men
The fear became excitement
It offered a moment to think
I don't know if it wants to injure me
It sniffs me repeatedly,
Smearing my skin with his nose
This type of behavior, this smell
Began to arouse my rose
Rough nails grip around my neck
Forest flavored lips
Unravelling a taste unhuman
The touch erupts and fills me with fear
Still, I long to linger near
Sunrise starts with a grin
Revolving around the mood
Upon his long coat of shrooms
Without fear I stroke his thick fur
Rough and sweet I repeat
Living or dying, I stay
To love the fear-driven inside
Day after day
Deep and gray, life fades
Then becomes elusive
11 years the sun hides
Dark eyes, hold me all night
This wild man, by the bedside
Cries from the woods before sunset
Somewhere behind hidden walls
The woods stand tall
Flowers welt from this burning love
My heart owned by the sasquatch
Though rapid dreams and streams,
Of Big Foot and I
Poem | |
The newborn wolves, March babies, cannot see.
They need their mothers, like all creatures do.
In just two weeks, they crawl; then wondrously,
they view their world through open eyes of blue.
A few days pass; and it’s not too long when
they stand and walk; they whimper and they yelp,
then learn to fight while playing in their den,
but in the meantime, they will still need help.
Fed by their pack, the grey wolf pups get strong.
With family, they’ll never be alone.
The months go by so fast. It won’t be long
before the winter when they'll be full grown.
When new March babies come, they’ll do their part,
for in the pack, the grey wolf shows his heart.
Written 3/28/2015 for shadow Hamilton's Canis Lupus the Wolf Contest
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 | |
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.
More great poems below...
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 | |
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 | |
Your dad, a Dachshund once stuck in Chihuahua.
The best of both in you, with that expectant
Confusing carpets for the lawn enigma.
I know….the raining….getting wet….you can’t.
As coldness chills the room, a sheet for you.
The perfect tucking of in, but you moved!
I ponder, just how crazy is my Boo?
The sheet’s thread count too low to be approved?
Your dance in circles, spinning on the floor.
Rewards and treasures known upon the racks.
Induced by meals and that one pantry door.
In such a fury, choking on the snacks.
I know what God’s book says, I’ve searched it whole.
But still, I hope you have a little soul.
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:
Lassie was a level-headed dog and never engaged in:
Reared in a loving 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 had an entourage of nubile young female beagles named:
Eventually, he met his soul mate, married her in Westminster Abbey and it is rumored that they engaged in numerous and somewhat kinky sessions of:
Poem | |
He walked amid the woodlands muted morn.
The scents of earth were wafting on the breeze.
For dawn had moistened yet another day.
And silence dripped beneath the autumn trees.
A rustle in dry leaves, he caught a glimpse.
His gun caressed the warmth of flannel sleeves.
The silent hunter, stalking, tiptoed near.
A golden-red meandered through the leaves.
The sun began to rise above the knoll.
It shone upon dark eyes; the gun rose high.
The pheasant flickered leaves; then, heard a crunch.
He recognized the scent; the man walked nigh.
Red feathers, brightly accented with gold,
Were ruffled as he took his fighting pose.
The cockerel next to man had no defense.
So, high above the trees the pheasant rose!
His hungry children waited back at home.
He rushed along the trail up to the crest.
The pheasant lost from view; his stomach growled.
The hunter and his gun had done their best.
At noon, the hunter rested on a log.
The water in his canteen, nearly dry,
No morsel did he eat as day grew long.
The stealthy man could hear his children’s cry.
December 1, 2014
Written for Poetry Soup Member Contest: Structured forms - Iambic verse - Sketch a fictitious character - (Top Gun Poetry) - Poetry Contest
Sponsor Giorgio A. V.
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 | |
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
Poem | |
Deep in the earth, a crypt of rock
slumber guarded by casket locked
Lips grope silence ‘ever more
rasping thought, remembers whispered lore
Outstretched palms the roots do clench
tranquility stilled by festered stench
And eyes, sleep caked, are propped ajar
ignites no life, but collapsed star
Burned blades sigh, Winds’ dying gasp
bones brittle snap within her clasp
A lonesome howl the moon does draw
vigil broken, it twists its maw
Upon an arena of endless stone
the granite gates they’ve passed alone
And entered a world of burning eyes
eluded the judge of smoldering cries
A faultless gait, no stumbled draw
a reaping brought by scythe and claw
Opal edge which shrouds a cause
aberrant blade shapes nature’s laws
Dictate a script, the stars can share
an open secret, a language bare
Steps continue, feet are drawn
across gray grass, undying pawn
Poem | |
A hole in the head shooting pain trembles
nightshades coldly down the spine
a soul lost in the land of the living
carried away in darkness
flying inside dark clouds holding just a dream
Distant thunder roars lightening splitting cracks
sure as the crow flies crawling opens Hell's gates
dark jewels of the night
charred remains churning in a cauldron
boiling goodness tears of thoughts
Piercing screams spawning nightmares
holding a promise once made
walking in a valley amongst the dead
shadows now smile hearing animals scream
as the moon plays silver dancing light
Dreams snatched away from reality
the crow calls echoes in silence
victims of this world howling over and back
tragedy cries in their pain and suffering
eyes seeking light
whispers through the branches
a heather bleat creature of the night calls
Haunted by humans chained to the earth
awaiting shadows and sunsets
a cursed banshee wails supernatural screams
from everywhere and nowhere
Mind numbing winds passing through
a white silhouette shredded shroud
around a heart entombed
in agonies' twilight shades clouds darken
storms brewed stirring specters chase the wind
Cold rains become lost tears
the willow weeps in eternal sorrows
a lament for the dead
as the silver crescent moon smiles goodbye
Blends in clear as day after sunrise
forgotten in a valley of unrest
death bell's toll out from the past
onyx feathered crows call painful cries
Forever seeking heaven's gate now sealed
that promised choice was lost ages ago
only burning Hell fires
or cold earthworms await
Written by: Liam McDaid & Kelly Deschler
Poem | |
Adopted animals love their humans;
show it in many ways.
The tiniest pet,
revels in the harmony of its time,
Dinky was a special hamster;
she lived a year beyond the normal life span.
I carried her around in my pocket and she loved the ride.
Her head, peeking out, evoked curious comments
from all who glimpsed her.
She searched for me, when I was at school;
her knack for escaping the cage,
kept me searching for her in the afternoons.
I often found her, in my chest of drawers.
Of course, I found it odd,
but hamsters are four-legged, Houdini’s…
Dinky was the best.
One cold winter night, as I lay in slumber,
That tiny traveler made her way from,
one end of the house, to my bedroom.
I lay there, on that frosty eve,
reaming that I was outside in the rain;
the chilling raindrops, dancing upon my arm.
In a moment of lucidity,
Reality hit; those raindrops were tiny paws!
I reached, grasped and in the shimmering moonlit rays,
I stared into the eyes of my new bed buddy.
A twitchy nose said it all…
”I found you!”
I moved her cage close by my bedside;
future escapes faded into history.
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 | |
My puppy sure loves to lick me
He thinks I’m a lollypop.
Every time I get home he attacks me
Then kisses me nonstop.
You’d think I was gone forever
When I just left the house for the mail,
He is right at the door when I get back
With a rapidly wiggling tail.
He wants to eat everything I do,
Mom says, that’s not good for a dog.
We want to keep him fit and healthy
So daily we go for a jog.
My toys are all tattered and ragged
My socks are his ultimate aim,
Doesn’t matter how much it upsets us
He thinks it’s all some kind of game.
I know he’s a bit of a stinker
That always wants to be fed.
But I sure am in love with my puppy,
Every night when we cuddle in bed.
Written by Brenda Meier-Hans
Poem | |
Yummy yum yum — possum stew.
Makes my mouth water.
Add ‘taters and ‘maters man.
That’s country cooking.
Side order: speckled
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 | |
Where a dingo, with crushed skull, lies,
a stout round creature backs up
from the entrance of his burrow.
His sturdy rump has saved him,
and his worst enemy has been
rear-ended by a wombat!
Written Jan. 17, 2015 by Andrea Dietrich
for the Night Creatures Contest of nette onclaud
Animal is #1: Wombat
Poem | |
She-Tiger patiently watches,
Dark concealing realm,
Green eyes pierce nights,
Ever weary, seeking motions,
Beware the bush itself seems,
To come alive,
Beneath moonlights twilight mists,
Heavy foot steps cautiously,
Traveling along a carnalistic path,
Deaths servant stalks it's prey.
Revealing raw natures twisted fate,
In her flashing gaze, ageless,
This huntress most majestic.
Sleek jungle mistress, fearlessly,
Forgotten trails cutting,
Patrolling vast wilderness.
Drink deeply clear waters purity,
No other creature dares,
Come near thee.
Forests chameleon, hidden,
Amongst bamboo thickets.
Camouflages golden blends,
By divisions striped bands.
Feeding legacies future brood.
Crowns glorious jewels,
Young cubs at play,
Learning life’s lessons to be,
Rough dull stones at first,
Finely polished y age,
One day they'll sparkle,
Under sunshine's rays.
Royalties queen, stands tall,
Upon prides rock,
Surveying an evergreen,
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 | |
Spring waits, as Winter slowly looses its grip upon the land
Water begins to drip from eves and green peeks through the graying snow
A bear wakes and stretches, and remembers how to be a bear