Shape Animal Poems | Examples
These Shape Animal poems are examples of Animal poems about Shape. These are the best examples of Animal Shape poems written by international poets.
One couple of days ,Noah brought paired creatures away from storm,
Sailed to far Zambia where wife's shape got deformed
With nothing to frolic, mute and blind romped, amidst highflood's rush,
Animals played good good lovin' in darkened hush...
Babies born by leaps , four blind mice became witnesses in the the Ark
Wife kept her own kiddy bump, stayed dumb, yet how can they embark?
Heaven shocked," on the list,we forgot the procreation supply,
Keep the new flock, mute Noah, did I say go forth and multiply?'
I n.
l a
ove the oce
I sleep in wet sand.
My biggest fear is
a child's little hand.
You guessed my secret.
Don't ever blab.
Yours, sincerely,
riendly Sand Cr
F a
A b.
quite
far across
unruffled
blue
lake
small
swan
drifts
with the gentle
wind rippling so soft and
calm over the folded porcelain
wings as pure as bright flakes
of snow waiting for zephyr
to bring the call of the
floating clouds in
azure sky and fly
~~~~~~~~~""""~~~~~~~~""""~~~~~"""~~~~~~~
~~~~"""~~~~~~~""""""~~~~~~~~"""~~~~~~"""~~~~
through shadowed pines and drifting snow
a silver ghost moves soft and slow
eyes like embers, burning bright
a watcher in the frozen night
the moonlight carves his silhouette
a fleeting shape, a whispered threat
not of malice, nor of hate
but of a world that seals its fate
his voice, a song upon the air
a mournful cry, a hunter’s prayer
echoing through hollow stone
calling kin, yet left alone
wild and free, yet chased, betrayed
by hands that fear what won’t obey
but still he runs, through dark, through light
the untamed heart, the soul of night
"Until one has loved an animal, a part of one's soul remains unawakened"
by Anatole France
Animals: all the various kinds
every shape or color I'd choose
I'd love them all, not one left behind
in my longed-for garden's earthy hues
And, for each one, a home with nice views.
In my garden, two squirrels you'd find
for each needs a friend that looks the same.
Cows, lookiing so sweet, you know they're kind
and, of course, only those that are tame
Thus, no lioness with tousled mane.
Rock Island hens, and the birds in flight
a chorus of songs from those that sing,
Bunnies, puppies, kittens, black or white.
To all creatures, this wish I would bring
a warm home, safe far from winter's sting.
whipping window glass covered with dew,
I perched to get a panoramic view.
Meadow in front is still in shape,
Resuming to become place of escape.
Calling my name all these years,
Heard it when I sharpened my ears.
As Petrichor acted like time machine,
Bringing back the memories of teen.
The old tree I sheltered in hide and seek,
Piece of beauty when youth was in peak.
When we were in woods a bit deep,
In obscurity what must be here to creep.
Returning home with promise to return,
To inquire over what is left to learn.
Six quick legs scurry the dank tunnels.
Where I trek eyes are not needed,
For us, the scents are roadsigns
And I count my paces like mileposts.
Our lives are a secret to most.
A whole world under the earth’s skin.
It is where we slowly move mountains
Right under foot, yet you never know.
We are a machine.
Alone, one part appears as nonsense,
But as a whole you see our designs.
Industrial. Unstoppable.
You may watch from above,
But can you truly understand our ways?
We hide in holes. We hide in numbers.
We shape the earth, yet you never know.
Soft-shelled things by their sources laid
On spots assuring them no raid:
In my poultry picked up by maid,
With care handled or her upbraid
“Boiled or Omelets but with bread,
For my breakfast do as I’ve said!”
I’d quip: Mirror Image of Earth!
As birds live, we’ll record no dearth,
In shape completely the oval -
All Eggs and The Earth are global….
Egg-laying time the hen cackles,
With man’s presence: rising hackles!
Snakes wouldn’t want you to come near;
Once you do, for your heels I fear,
That of Powerful Eagle rare:
Sure, The Eagle won’t seekers spare!
The glad choice of some shrines and gods;
Extend them and they’ll drop their rods;
You won’t again be hit like pods;
From then a life of happy nods…
When dropped or found on the ground: eggs
Time to carefully drag one’s legs;
Why each week in my abdomen?
Not its yolk liked: it’s Albumen.
Animals in top hats,
Ride bicycles en road,
Spoked wheels and pedaled spats,
Round about, in ornamental spode.
Animals in monocles,
Spectate in obeisance,
Cuffed by inked chronicle:
Renascence-linked complacence.
Animals in Model Ts,
Toot along en route,
To queue below burlesque marquee,
Bloating bruit by gloat and brute.
Animals in suits,
Sustained by entree manner,
Tasting morsels, cheering lutes;
To labor, bond and banner.
Animals in petticoats,
Puffed in crinoline,
Corsets sweep beneath the bloat,
Ensure the meal’s unseen.
Animals in linen,
Lain in duvets, eider down,
Sunken pelt a skin had been in,
Before its fur had come to town.
Animals in animal,
Adorned disguise of dermis,
Woven threads of blastemal,
Posture vermin with a vermis.
Animals in animals,
Piquant bones to gnaw,
Ascetic starving cannibals,
Feed on creed and law.
Animals in groups,
Extensions of the self,
Lain in egg to cracked coops,
Atop a thrifted shelf.
Instead of rounding out our edges,
To conform our shape to objects,
End the heed, the empty pledges,
Be animal: love and sex.
The legs of the tigress were the first to go;
torn from her in a single vicious bite,
then left, helpless, to watch the rabbit;
bop and boogie around the once fierce cat.
The lion met a similar grizzly fate;
head torn from body upon gleefully which
the monkey did his dance macabre
in front of audience of tailless sheep.
The elephant, and ram, sans legs, of course,
performed a rather rhythmic limbo dance
under a cunning arch of bison, bear, and fox.
Followed by a mystery shape, we'll call a dog.
The turtle and the owl went in one quick snap,
and missed the seal's famous party trick;
balancing a kangaroo, half-eaten,
on his nose while standing on a cow.
The camel eventually broke in two;
beneath the weight of two donkeys and a horse,
causing hyena to start its manic laugh,
but not for long; it, too, was swallowed, whole.
The toucan crumbled under rhino's charge
and fell beneath the hippo's headless feet.
Then just as things were warming up, I found, alas,
no more Animal Crackers left in the box.
Like the North Wind,
Sent by Boreas
to lay driven snow, pure
and white, an ivory
whirlwind blows
through my living room.
The rodent, pink as
embarrassment, flies
with the speed of a
crossbow bolt loosed at
full tension. It’s woolen
body, firm but pliable.
The ashen animals
bear claws sharp as
thorns, attacking with the
ferocity of a defensive
rose garden. They strive
for the kill, dilated pupils
take on the shape of
fully waxed moons, the color
of pitch; an eclipse of
bloodlust. Eagerly, but
methodically the blanched
aggressors approach the
rosy mouse and with
muscles tensed, as taut as
moorings, they leap.
Their lithe, slim, dextrous
bodies fly through the
air. In a blizzard of ferocity
the rodent is struck down
and the ivory whirlwind
abates back into a pile
of freshly driven snow.
1/12/23 for “Metrical Tale”
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I was a nervous young fawn
Tasting sweet April grass in a lovely meadow
Sensing danger, realizing wolves were surrounding me
Bam!
I had shapeshifted into one of them.
Their alpha was sharp, he sensed I was still a deer.
He urged them to close in.
Wham!
I am now an eagle,
soaring high above the pack, out of reach
Even their alpha looks confused
I do not think they understand shape shifters.
Who is that? His sister asked, staring at his art.
It’s me! Rodney Rooter said. Don’t be so smart!
But you don’t look that dapper, that handsome, that thin!
With a sister like this, it’s a wonder what a shape he was in!
Rodney had been pleased with his self portrait, proud.
Now his sister’s voice had commanded a large gathering crowd.
That pig is adorable! Uncle Hawg said. Who is he then?
Rodney Rooter sucked in his tummy, trying to look thin.
Shenanigans and poppycock -
the wild wood with unrest.
Will amazon deliver the chest
of acorns and walnuts before Winter sets?
On their “I” phones, those with bushy tails
don’t want to work for nibbles. Kips,
after a long, long, long day of texting,
waiting, shopping. Others hoard or steal
those treasure troves from every tree.
Collectibles, particularly nasty -
why would a little squirrel want a Barbie,
when a grownup can buy out and store
each box, in perfect shape, for a decade?
“Play with your phone, little kitten.”
Shenanigans and poppycock,
finger-licking goodness of ‘rents,
loving the kits with abominable gifts.
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Disco squirrel now will reach for the stars
I watch and he takes off; being all ours.
The onlookers are amazed as he goes into a spin.
It’s amazing the fantastic shape he is in!
It’s all that chasing he does during the day.
He has a girlfriend, and boy, do they play!
They have worn a path around my oak tree.
I smile at the warm happy memory.
How did he get his name? A newcomer asks. And why?
Watch him for a few seconds, I eagerly reply.
Oh, wow! He does have the moves! She says now.
He can twist and groove and he packs lots of pow!