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Details | Elephant Poem | |

The Elephant in the Room

3 polished oak fans,
Swirling in robotic unison

High maintenance socialites,
Sipping on Merlot fallacies

Lemon yellow coated walls,
Like their smiles

Comparisons of dangling Porsche & Bentley keys
A glorified day care center,
Pacifiers included

The muted virtuosos speak softly in hymn dialects.

Courtesy laughter in snob’s octave

Their heads twitching side to side,
Left to right to left

An equilibrium facing assault charges against self

They slow dance to cello dreams
And E minor dividends

Two-step monotone, sway
Against platinum lacquer foundations


But, it was then.

These same socialites,
Made of recycled candle wax
And rubberized, hedge-fund confidence,
Began to stare longingly at the party host’s 70 inch plasma TV

Proudly imported from China

“Attention uptight snobs of Mecca!
The city zoo has imploded!
The monkeys revolted!
The zebras were tired of being racially profiled!
Run for your LIV…!”

And before the reporter’s frightened inner child could finish’s his clause,
An elephant crashes into the decadent room
Filled with Crisp linen scents of Febreze & judgmental fear

It stares at the socialites,
Laughing heartedly as it playfully stomps away into constellation’s onyx night

As tears waterfall from the snobs’ sobbing eye sockets
As if they just listened to another Celine Dion song

The real newsflash

Metaphors played hooky today

©Drake J. Eszes

Details | Elephant Poem | |


I read Darryl Ashton’s poem Called Pinocchio Rex and this brought back 
memories of a childhood incident

When I grew up we had a smallholding – the house was called ‘Longacre’ as we 
had over an acre of land.  Over the years we had chickens, pigs named Pinky 
and Porky and a goat called Susie… she had kids called Billy and Nanny – guess 
I was no good at names back then… but I digress
Attached to the house was a small village shop but my parents also made a 
small income from selling fresh eggs and in the summer home grown 
strawberries – I would help pick washing baskets of them and bag them up to 
Every week a little old man would arrive for his dozen eggs and if the shop was 
shut he would ring the doorbell. He wore a pointed felt hat, had steely blue 
eyes and the most enormous nose you have ever seen. Unbeknownst to him 
my parents nicknamed him 'Pinocchio'.
When I was aged about 7 years old the doorbell rang – mum was busy baking 
in the kitchen so I answered it. There in front of me stood this old man wanting 
his eggs. Mum shouted from the kitchen
‘Who is it Janet?’ 
I replied ‘Oh its only Pinocchio’ 
At once mum appeared from the kitchen, her face was the colour of beetroot. 
She apologised for the comment from her ‘cheeky daughter’ The man 
purchased his eggs and walked away – never to return!
The moral of this true tale is that parents ALWAYS tell the truth and that 
children have ears the size of an elephant and a mouth just as big … so if you 
don’t want them to repeat something YOU have said keep it zipped!

Jan Allison
11th August 2014

Details | Elephant Poem | |

The Elephant in the Room

Believe no word I say;
Just watch what I do.
No matter how I try
I can't hide it from you.

Ashamed of every bite, 
I starve in your eyes.
But when you turn around 
I choke on french fries. 

I can't hide from the world
That pure ecstasy I feel when in my mouth I cram
A cream puff, a box of cereal, a gallon of ice cream, a tray of brownies...

I break! 

My heart aches.
If I had the guts
I'd eat only my scrambled brains
And drink nothing but my curdled blood.

But I'm a coward
So to numb the pain 
I devour my self-esteem,
Cover my eyes,
And avoid mirrors.

The larger I become
The less of me you see.
I blend into the room;
I become the couch.

Maybe this is what I hoped for, 
But I don't know for sure.
I'm the elephant in the room--
I would leave this hell 
But I don't fit through the door.

Details | Elephant Poem | |

The Elephant's Trunk

The elephant’s trunk faces the door
Good fortune, good fortune
Ever more
Her beauty is timeless 
even with age
and his stately manner
will always engage
Slowly she bends 
to move his chair
and straighten his legs
and brush his hair
He coughs with eyes closed
breath ragged and thin
barely audible
asks why him?
She has firm hands
but delicate skin
blue electric eyes
frame bent and thin
The grandfather clock 
chimes a new hour
a life time together
unbreakable power
moving as one
through history and today
hardships, success
shared all the way
a nurse and a lawyer
the best educated I know
recite old songs and tales
of adventure and woe
And to the seniors' lunch 
they’ll hobble together
while my grandmother  
gently hums her wisdom 
for grandchildren to remember
"You have to give a little
Take a little
And let your little heart break a little
That’s the glory of
That’s the story of
And the elephant’s trunk faces the door
Good fortune, good fortune
Ever more

Details | Elephant Poem | |

An Elephant's Toe

It's early spring and what do you know The corn is as low as an elephant's toe The grass has riz no sign of rain Boidies are singing a happy refrain Feel like jumping and clicking my heels But I'm 77, take a long time to heal Think I'll just watch the young 'uns at play And reminisce bout the good ole days The corn is as low as an elephant's toe Soon reach his eye as the old song goes It's early spring and what do you know The corn is as low as an elephant's toe © Jack Ellison 2013

Details | Elephant Poem | |

The Elephant Fort

Black beauties in chains-
Before the ticket counters,
A long queue does creep
To scatter near the black wonders.

Ears and tails always move,
Ruminating the rhythms of forest.
Elephants are inside the fort,
Exposed to the sky barest.

I hear the hushed emotions
In the clinking of chains.
Hearts  smoulder in;
Eyes emit lava of pains.

Burning red wild flowers
And tickling streams,
Each elephant longs I know:
But chains kill dreams.


(Anakotta(a fort for the elephants) at Punathur, Guruvayur, Kerala,India is a tourist 
place, where you see a large number of elephants together. All are chained.)

First place winner in 'Your(own) Favorite Poem' contest by Destroyer A poet(PD) 

Details | Elephant Poem | |

My elephant is like me

That's not my elephant for my elephant is like me! it takes only rice and dal and never looks at spaghetti! That's not my elephant though Ella claims it to be- for my elephant can sing and dance and even writes poetry! That's not my elephant for when the 2nd graders came to see- my elephant greeted them and gave a speech on morality! That's not my elephant I can tell you clearly- she never fights for the bill of rights as she knows it will anger me! My request to all of you send your elephants soon to me- my elephant will teach them how to write a poetry! ==================== Placement:None (January 2011) Contest:That's not my elephant Sponsor:Matt Calliri By:kashinath karmakar(18th Dec.2010)

Details | Elephant Poem | |

An Elephant's Heart

They say an elephant
Never forgets-
I put memories in poetry
So I'll never forget-
An elephant weighs
Ten thousand pounds;
A picture carries
The weight of
A thousand words-
A poem is a picture
Without a frame,
Creates an image
In your mind,
Creates an idea,
An emotion;
Creates- something-
In your heart...
I don't know how much
The heart of an elephant
Weighs, but they say 
Grief can break
An elephant's heart-
I suppose that's the 
Drawback to

Details | Elephant Poem | |


                  An ant dies when an elephant loves by touching with trunk					

Details | Elephant Poem | |

An Elephant in School

That’s not my elephant, the second graders said to their teacher.
Elephants are too big; they’re not our kind of creature.

We like fierce alligators with thick-green armored scales;
long pointed teeth, strong jaws, and spiked whipping tails.

We like chimpanzees that live high in forest trees
that swing from branches and hang by their hairy knees.

What good is a flop-eared elephant who recites
the whole “Constitution” and “Bill of Rights”?

The teacher looked puzzled; somewhat perplexed,
she wasn’t quite sure of what to say next.

Elephants never forget the teacher returned;
their huge brain stores everything they’ve learned.

Ella the elephant just stood there in a striking pose.
Well, can you suck spaghetti up with your nose?

Copyright © 2011 By Caryl S. Muzzey	

Details | Elephant Poem | |

somewhere an Elephant cries

Somewhere a carved ornament,
catching the eye of a passing tourist.
He buys it for his wife,
Not caring that it stopped a life.

Somewhere a man makes a living,
Selling souveniers,
That people can't help buying,
Not caring that a specias is dying.

Somewhere a rich man
is involved in trading tusks.
For a life he's led,
A herd lies dead.

Somehwere a poor man
Raises a gun wihich a rich man gave him,
And somewhere, under African skies,
A baby elephant cries

Details | Elephant Poem | |

The Elephant Tha Ant and The Butterfly

The elephant was walking through the jungle one day
Swinging his trunk, this and that way.
He dragged it along not caring where still
And then he dragged it through, a very large Ant hill.

His trunk started to itch and annoy him a bit
He wandered around to look for somewhere to scratch it.
He found a tree and wrapped his trunk around 
The leaves and the fruits all dropped down to the ground
The itch it then moved, it was now up at his nose
He needed to rub it on anything that goes.
He found a rock and rubbed with all his might
It was covered in insects and they all took flight.

Apart from a butterfly that dropped on his tusk
She lay there broken smelling faintly of musk
The itch it had moved up onto his head right close to his eyes
Then he heard a voice which was quite a surprise.

Hey you be more careful you great big beast
You’ve ruined my home and knocked off the giraffes feast.
You’ve forced insects to flee from the rock where they lay
And you have a broken butterfly on you tusk, now what do you say?

The elephant stopped in his tracks and looked around
He couldn’t see, from where came the sound.
Elephant shook his head as the itch went to his ear
Then the voice said it’s me stupid, I am in your ear.

The elephant stopped and begged, please keep still
You are making me itch and it’s making me ill
Please show yourself and let me apologise
I meant no harm especially to you or the butterflies.

The ant crawled out of the elephant’s ear
He said, I need you to go back to my anthill I fear
I need to check up and the wounded and dead
If you do this for me I’ll stop itching on your head.

Ok said the elephant I’ll do that for you 
But what about this butterfly, what can we do?
I’m not sure said the ant, to the elephants ear
We’ll sort it in a bit when we get near.

They set of and found the squashed ants and hill
The elephant cried it made him feel ill.
The ant said we need new home and quick
And for the butterfly she is quite sick.

The elephant was sad and offered what help he could .
You can move in my trunk and I promise I’ll be good
Thank you we will said the ant, just for a while
And we can help the butterfly said the ant with a smile.
So together they set of all content and happy
The elephant the  butterfly and the little Anty.

Details | Elephant Poem | |

Diamonds on Elephant Ears

Diamonds on Elephant Ears,
A beauty from Heaven's tears.
Silver and green in a pretty, little scene,
Water reflecting Light like a firefly in the night.
All atop velvetty ears every summer year

(Elephant Ears are a type of plant. When water droplets rest upon them and the light reflects off of them they look like little diamonds.)

Details | Elephant Poem | |

Baby Elephant Walk

The flute plays low
Dum, dum, de, de
Organ joints the tune
Dum, dum, de, de

Clarinet delights the ear
Dum, dum, de, de
Baby elephant wobbles
Not graceful now

High piccolo shrill gay
Dum, dum, de, de
Trombone show the way
Woddle of baby elephant

Dum, dum, de, de
Dum, dum, de, de
Dum, dum, de, de
Dum, dum, de, de

Details | Elephant Poem | |

The Elephant and Mouse

The Elephant and Mouse

Way back a long, long time ago, when mouse and ‘phant were new
They thought that their relationship would always ring true blue
But the mouse one day got randy and the elephant was handy
And don’t you know, a rape did soon ensue
Though small, the mouse was mighty, the elephant a wee bit flighty
And when the deed was over, the mouse still felt the same
But the elephant was fearful; felt nothing but the shame
And so you know the two of them then went their separate way
They grew apart in mind and body and thus they are today
And though it’s been 4000 years, the feeling is there yet
For as you know, or so they say, a ‘phant does not forget
And so today an elephant encountering a mouse
Recoils in fear and loathing of the little louse

Mdailey	9/8/12

Details | Elephant Poem | |

My Elephant Herd

I need to win the Powerball
For my house is getting small
It's not exactly what I prefer
It's just the size of my elephant herd

Ceramic, glass, plaster and wood
Plush, wax, cloth and plastic
The number of my herd is fantastic
My pachyderm collecting is understood

At first it wasn't about me
I enjoyed the symbol of the GOP
But slowly, but surely there became a need
So gathering elephants became a happy deed

Family and friends send them to me
And I delight in their generous deed
Birthdays, Holidays any occasion
I accept pachyderms of all persuasions

Pictures, carvings, pillows and dolls
Statues, figures, candles and canes
Brooches, clocks, elephants of anything
Can't stop at one so I get them all

My elephants are happy, some are sad
But I never met an elephant that was bad
Trunks up for good luck make me glad
Small elephants, large elephants more to add

My house was once room enough for me
But my pachyderm's population now exceeds
To say my space has been disturbed
No, I just need a larger house for my elephant herd

Details | Elephant Poem | |

The Elephant and the Albatross

She chases her tail
She listens for his breathing
She hears each his lies
She hears each his lies
His false shadow, painted skin
Listen, quiet, still
Blue feathers, hidden
Glory birds, gold and orange
Listen, quiet, still
She hears each his lies
Monkeys running through the trees
Listen, quiet, still
She chases her tail
Drying paint on native skin
 She runs through the green
Hark, the calls of birds
Drying paint on native skin
She chases her tail

Details | Elephant Poem | |

Turtle and Elephant World

The Native American Indians believe that the world
was created on the back of a giant elephant,
that steps the back of a giant turtle;
by supernatural beings.

Today, the descendants of England
have brought with them their architecture and culture
to the Turtle and Elephant World,
making the Turtle's and Elephant's load heavier.

Details | Elephant Poem | |

That's Not My Elephant That You See

That's not my elephant that you see.
My elephant is skinny and likes to watch TV

He also has a thin spaghetti trunk.
And likes to kneel and pray like a Monk.

My elephant likes to snort the bill of rights.
While riding 2nd graders day and  night.

When my elephant talks on the phone,
He gets Ella Fitzgerald to sing him a song.

Yes my elephant is very intelligent with me.
That's why I say, "That's not my elephant that you see!"

Written for Matt Caliri's "Thant's not my elephant!" contest

Details | Elephant Poem | |

Seven Blind Men and the Elephant-II

My poem was rejected to be published
Not by an editor but a panel of editors,
Each of them commenting on a quatrain
Like too many cooks spoiling the broth.

I recollect an old fable of ancient India,
About seven blind men and the elephant,
Each of them approaches the elephant,
Touching the different parts of the body.

Depending on whether who touches what,
The trunk, the tail, the sides or the legs,
Each gives a different description of,
How an elephant looks as my poem did.

Critics blame all the same, never mind,
He who knows the way, but can’t drive.

Details | Elephant Poem | |

The Elephant in the Room

His steps are heavy
Yet he is invisible
The panic sets in

Take him for a walk
Leave him some where safe and sound
To find his own way

The grey, dreary, day
Sputtering and spurting now
Big crocodile tears

Details | Elephant Poem | |


The elephant is in the room,
In fact the entire house,
But nobody really addresses its presence,
Or the damage it represents.

It’s not clearly seen,
Like a ghost wondering about,
The feelings may be present,
But nobody seems to drag it out.

When will this elephant leave,
Or is it permanently there to stay,
Like a bad nightmare,
That never goes away.

Is it even possible,
To send the elephant on it’s way,
To make room in this home,
For another person to stay.

Or will this always be,
The elephant's circus tent,
Where its memory lives alone,
With no room for another to roam.

There should be such joy in this home,
Yet sadness seems to lurks about,
Creating this dark cloud,
That prevents the sun from fully coming out.

How does one permanently banish the elephant,
So it’s negative presence does not return,
To allow the space for love to grow,
And the sun to fully glow.

The elephant must be hunted down,
One must stand up to it and show strength,
That the elephant might know its time is done,
And turn tail and run.

So now it’s time to face that elephant,
And all that it entails,
To send it on it’s way,
So that the sun will shine brighter,
Each and every day.

Details | Elephant Poem | |

The Elephant Man

Just a boy of three
Oblique to be
Skeletal grow
Enraging flow
Proteus syndrome
Humbled him
Captured hearts
Applauded him so
Royalty he got to know
Elephant man he came to be
Youthful not like you and me
Mistreated and hurt
Exposed and shown
Ridiculed in public
Robbed and disowned
In his final years
Condition takes
" In memory of a poor soul "

Details | Elephant Poem | |

That's Not My Elephant, Miss Ella

'That’s not my elephant, Miss Ella.  Get to tickets to Cairo tonight.'
I looked up from my desk, picked up the phone and sullenly said ‘alright’.
But before I could make that call, I had to cancel with Eddie;
Our first real date as a couple; I was making Italian spaghetti.

I spent the rest of the day, calling keepers, curators and aides,
Searching for missing elephants, until we boarded the plane.
Cairo was warm and amusing, but my heart was with Eddie tonight;
I wonder what he does for a living; but I love him, so he must be alright.

'That’s not my elephant, Miss Ella' I woke to hear him speak;
'Cairo shipped him to Paris; he’s featured at the Louvre this week.
Do you know a guy named McGregor?  Got his hands on this deal somehow;
Thinks D.C. is the only location; more second graders to see him there now.'

'This McGregor, he’s got strange ideas; thinks Obama has brought a new voice;
With young children to raise, a desire to learn... museums must make the right choice.'
But I’d never heard of McGregor, I just wanted to know the next plan;
For my heart was still dreaming of Eddie, and of when we could meet again.

Then my boss told me that this McGregor nearly ruined the Bill of Rights;
He said the small second graders couldn't see without radiant lights.
He got lots of support from other curators and keeper and even some aides;
I even heard tell he went out on a limb and asked one of them on a date.

'Now I hear it wasn't my elephant, posing in Paris this week;
Mr. Eddie McGregor tried to take charge, but turns out he’s really quite meek.
Get two tickets for home, Miss Ella; we found my elephant tonight;
Mr. Eddie McGregor tried to get smart, but turns out he’s not very bright.'

'Why, Miss Ella, there’s no need to cry, we're shipping my elephant home;'
But my tears had begun a minute before, when I had answered my phone.
It was Eddie, and he poured it all out, then said he'd no longer come 'round;
The government takes a dim view of theft; my Eddie had been sent down.

Details | Elephant Poem | |



When we weren’t stagnant we strolled the street
While all we had to do was look toward the sky
Too many of us were weakened by blistered feet
As reflections of yesterday made us wonder why

On forty-second street there was a gallery of fools
Walk two more blocks and you were in torrid territory
Another four blocks to the east and there were no more rules
Because each one of us junkies were poor and predatory

I thought they were fools but we were the dumb ones
Stepping on melting tar or frozen cement
Looking out for knives, forceful fists and guns
And all the accoutrements which we had been lent

Whether it was Broadway during broad daylight
We did what we were forced to do
Us junkies were never looking to fight
While all the threats were bound to accrue

So don’t follow the pack of us to Needle Park
Because from there you become heroin’s slave
Neither should you follow us through Harlem in the dark
Because from there the next stop is one’s grievous grave
   © 2011.….Phreepoetree ~free cee!~