Best Aardvark Poems | Poetry
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The Best Aardvark Poems
There was a possum
of worldly descent
and things it had spent
Chasing a catfish
down dragonfly row
Wanting to see if
it was someone to know
Laughed at an aardvark
with tangerine pants
Filling it's pockets
with yesterday's ants
Climbed up a staircase
that led to the sky
Waving at meadowlarks,
Chewed on a cabbage
it found by the gate
Wondering if it was
something it ate
Sat down alone,
which was normal you see
Crying those tears
as it hoped it could be
that he never could find
Merely a possum,
just pay him no mind
He'll get along,
it's just something to do
And if he passes
in front of you
Maybe just smile
and tell him hello
He might be somebody
you'd like to know
Or let him be
without well wishes sent
For he's just a possum
of worldly descent
For the Dandelions Tiger Lillian and Bear berries Oh My Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Maureen McGreavy
Copyright © Chris Green | Year Posted 2018
The aardvark who was ashamed looked at the floor
The ant that was angry banged on the door
The bee who was bold ventured on a quest
The bear who was bored drew upon his vest
The cat that was calm never entered rage
The cockatiel who was content sung in his cage
The crocodile that was cheerful looked very pleased
The deer who was disgusted brushed against the trees
The dog who was delighted wagged his tail high
The eagle that was envious soared across the sky
The goat that was grateful helped a near farmer
The gorilla that was glad ate his banana
The giraffe who was grumpy didn’t like the day
The horse who was happy galloped all the way
The jaguar that was jealous ran away far
The monkey who was mad jumped upon a car
The parrot that was proud brought aloud his voice
The snake that was sad made a poor choice
The seahorse that was silly caused a lot of strife
The tiger that was thankful loved to enjoy life
Written by Geraldine Taylor ©
Copyright © Geraldine Taylor | Year Posted 2017
I looked behind me when I heard a squeaky little bark
From out of the bushes, a kangaroo-looking creature rose
His bright green eyes flashed neon signs at me in the dark,
then he raised his long piggy snout and struck a silly pose.
"Have you escaped from the zoo to wander in the park?"
His bunny ears flopped before he wiggled long-clawed toes.
He replied, "No. I'm looking for ants cuz I'm an aardvark."
I invited him to join me for dinner at the café, Java Joes.
^-^ - ^-^
Copyright © Lin Lane | Year Posted 2017
When Aardvark sleeps, perchance to dream
About a tasty snack …
I wonder, does he ever wish
It wouldn’t bite him back?
Inspired by Lee Leon’s poem ‘Aardvark’
Copyright © Frances King | Year Posted 2009
Mark Clarke was the gentlest man of Denmark
Yet considered by all a most unlikely patriarch
He was proud being Noah’s apprentice on the ark
Mark was in charge of ensuring all the animals did embark
Two by two in harmony, elephant, giraffe, tiger, and aardvark
Shared the gameplan with the many types of whale and shark
Ensured every bird was onboard, especially the skylark
Mark’s wondrous inventory was classified by icon and footmark
And sometimes in the margin he would jot a special remark
He hoped no one would notice he found neither unicorn nor snark
For weeks the sun was flooded by torrential rains making the sky darkest dark
They prayed out loud for the promised rainbow, that long-awaited coloured arc
When the rains finally subsided they looked for the closest park
Everyone had cabin fever and were ecstatic to disembark
Rowdiness of meow, oink, purr, caw, growl, snarl and bark
Plans were soon ongoing to celebrate with a feisty spark
Evaluating the damage up and down and all around Hark!
Mark said Yeah, that’s gonna leave quite a watermark
Submitted in March, 2018
Copyright © Line Gauthier | Year Posted 2018
Taming a tropical topical tree? Taking a trunk? Telling a tailor? Traversing a tale? Many ideas. Much like the ideological dramas of a beach front. Wavelength of winds. Movements if the tides. Coconuts can jump very high if wearing leotards but leotards are prohibited at various times during the year. It is quite impossible to count the exotic blooms that line up. Waiting wanting wishing. And the deity of a cactus can chant to tunes arriving from the sand piles. Dust dog. Digging. Whoosh warming wands. And a scent of a papaya in a fridge. Now that is all rather entertaining and remarkable for the long tailed fish whose darts prove to the leopard print turtle that it is very likely that a radiant radius forms from a watery weaving display. But jousting with a pineapple is not as fantastic as utilising a giant bee bush. Large leaves linking lanterns. And the aardvark grin. Heat from a ruin is a robed friend. Fiends are denied access by the calling cards. And the turban of souls spoke. Heed. Have. Heavens. Heaping. A morning mist is neither not a mood or a moon. And why buffalo wings and not pork wings? Why not pork wings? Operatic oink in a tropically scented garden. Seated. Or flying around and around. Then returning and eating apple pie. Stanza eighty nine is akin to a fine wine. A fabulous line. But a fabled monkey can be equalled to a nine foot serpent rising slowly from a wall. A mosaic deity. A wisdom. A pocket of chairs. Spin then. Aromatic cutlet smiling. Cover in liquids squirted from the appropriate discussion. And a rampant distortion of a small amount of energy. Save not a slug. Stamp not on a boating shrew. And spring over the jungle fauna with leaps of over forty two miles an hour. Sixty eight minutes of marvellous encounters. With unheard of animals,trees, and landscapes. The maka maka people are custodians of a channel and guardians of the tall blue beings. Shrouded in a misted canopy. High up. In caverns. Pictorial cues and evidence. Shrouds. Circuses are not allowed. Red read riots. And a dome cake arriving. Haha haha and a tall man waving. Haha and a juice dancing with a cloth. Haha beetle eyes in a pattern sewing blankets for the spotted frogs. Swirling stag staged. Melon elocution. And a little girl with a dramatic performance of a single page. Documentations in a dog bowl. Tropical topical trailers talking travelling trips. The radius of a forest floor is measured by twigs. And so the planet can be seen from a clearing. Oh good. Washing a flamingo is best done by a lake. And a frightened patterned peacock prancing can be placated by song, dance and rhythm. Such is the blossoming bloom of an official secrets act. 19 52. And an oceanographic octagonal office does not laugh or wave. It is to be said that mysterious snails of over two hundred feet in diameter can rise to meet the criteria of a successful businessman who has no meaning. And so the leaping ornate orchids can smile in appreciation. Swamps are really not that ideal for a morning swim. Haha goon gong. Xxxx beastiology. ANZ X.
Copyright © Taoi Chanan | Year Posted 2016
The date’s been set and many will attend
Just the penguin will be wearing his tux
A “come as you are” I did extend
So expect to see antlers on the bucks
In the heart of Sherwood Forest we’ll meet
Guests will include many from Noah’s ark
Each one I can’t wait to heartily greet
The skunk will be seated with the aardvark
Filet mignon is the menu of choice
But heifers were threatening to boycott
So a vegan dish has made them rejoice
And something fishy may arrive by yacht
A songbird choir will be entertaining
(Can’t wait to see the tarantula dance)
Trees will give shelter if it is raining
Elk will surely line up, ready to prance
The Lion King and the Duke of Squirrel
Will receive the red carpet treatment
And Miss Piggy will be our cover girl
Turning heads of many a furry gent
It all sounds so grand, but here’s the best part
Once this party begins, there’ll be no end
Animals live in harmony; they’re smart
And not one other human will attend
*Written July 28, 2014
Copyright © Carolyn Devonshire | Year Posted 2014
See, see the splurptious sky
Marvel at its big Mauve depths.
Tell me, dingle, do you
Wonder why the Aardvark ignores you?
Why its foobly stare
makes you feel Crappy.
I can tell you, it is
Worried by your crumbobulous facial growth
That looks like
A Rotten fish.
What's more, it knows
Your flarpgurgle potting shed
Smells of a ball of snot.
Everything under the big splurptious sky
Asks why, why do you even bother?
You only charm aliens?
Copyright © Rick Eichelberg | Year Posted 2014
Destroyer of high citadels
Thirty five million years, one diet
Consuming whole populations
Poor eyesight, nocturnal
Copyright © Lee Leon | Year Posted 2009
End of The Cassava
Like cassava we planted corruption in the farm
Like mangos we plug corruption from the trees
Like Ram we rear in the land where it sold
Like pounded yam we pound our yam of corruption like house we cap it lake a dwelling house of heaven
What can be said to your eyes that eat us blind? What can be said in the eyes of the pest, which eats deeply to the cassava end's?
What can be said to the corrupt mind that steals all the unripe mangoes?
your corruption stings in bees of honeycombs
like injection it passes through *** of we
when it came the wind shakes it like to brake all
the corrupt pest feeding on the cassava agar
aardvark they sleep on the land
Your inequality grave emerged us
in the ownership of the production of us
on the Thailand of your corrupted land
smaller it remain
your minority took over
in disarray us you go
To the red conservatory room our mind kept, we to save…
to the green stadium room, we hope of non corruption
Like the gladiator you came
alas, encompass by corrupt mind
like the Kong skull you choose your mind floating on the sea of your farmland
but nothing get doing
agal us from the pray of corruption
let you be honor
by our Pam-oil and white pap
on that conference point shall it be hooked
like rainbow killer
shall it go array to grave
Copyright © Raji Toheeb | Year Posted 2017
After reading some of the poems
You simply must agree
That their is an abundance of some
Which would make a tasty tea
Seren's mice have multiplied
Along with Kim's rabbits you see
Sammy snake is overjoyed
Smacking his lips with glee
Cos a tasty meal is envisaged
Just one thing Sammy forgot
On board Noah's ark
Is Malcolm the mongoose.
He lays in wait for Sammy
Who decided he wasn't hungry
So the rabbits and the mice
Are safe for another day
(added by Mandy)
Then there are some deer
Just like Bambi you see
But keep an eye on the tigers
Because Bambi looks good for tea
What about the aardvark
With his pointy long nose
He might be sniffing for ants
But if he is hungry one never knows.
Come on write the next verse i will add it
Copyright © Seren Roberts | Year Posted 2013
WHAT YOU DOING ON THAT BARSTOOL FOOL?
Is that what it takes for you to feel brave?
And why can’t you simply behave?
Don’t you realize it’s transience you crave?
And why do you secret youthful beauty within a cave?
Upon a time once did a wolf sleep with a lamb
Him with lethal teeth and her with a cute little curtsey and curls
That wolf who slept beside her didn’t give a damn
And never cared about the feelings for any of his young girls
silken sheets were where his advantage was taken
For the little lamb would obey his every demand
But by belittlement and a bastard was that lamb forsaken
And the bridge between fangs and curls could never be spanned
Oh but were the lamb to have been on Venus and the wolf upon Mars
Two different planets for two different hearts
The wolf’s teeth turned crimson while the lamb had her scars
As, from that little lamb the wolf purloined her prettiest parts
There was no running away for a lamb held captive in a cave
And fear doesn’t always lead a lamb far away from Mars
The universe isn’t sizable enough to hide what that wolf would crave
And today the memory of my being that wolf keeps me in shooting galleries and seedy bars
Copyright © jeffry cohan | Year Posted 2011
Alan the mystic
Rejected wrath and
Violence and ire
Result in endless
Copyright © Gail Foster | Year Posted 2015
mine myopic eyes and ears
sensually and auditorially seduced
analogous to a melodic aire
this quick rhythmic stuttering transposes
gentle natural orchestral autumnal suite
upon limbs gone bare
respectively via constant flow,
a steady thin vail sans vertical crystal clear
beaded pearls (strung together
like glittering jewels) of water
commingling upon terrestrial firmae
liquid readying diverse flora and fauna for winter solstice,
whose deoxyribonucleicacid hibernation genetically coded
multitudinous genus and species of oraganisms
drinking requisite moisture
inducing sleepiness sans flora and fauna musical lullaby,
simultaneously affecting this petsmart human whose ear
(actually both left and right) play significant role to hear
the pitter patter from the slate gray sheltering sky (gone dark)
where the soothing sound linkedin
to Neanderthal Man, hood didst hark
kin to the occasions
when oblate spheroid (and perchance on a lark
proto primate lived here in what became known
as Schwenksville, Pennsylvania, 19473)
encompassing open space and a small park
within Highland Manor Apartments
low slung brick complex thousands of years ago
this land t'was stark
flush with much more innumerable plants and animals
experienced an untrammeled wilderness
even then coveted moisture fallin from sky
as the meterological machine did wark
possibly operated by forerunner to the aardvark
paws sing to relish the fresh
untainted heavenly spring
delivering delicious tasting (maybe like kool aid),
where pools spring beckoning flying organims
on a prayer and wing
to parry and dart with speed most a may zing.
Copyright © MATTHEW harris | Year Posted 2017
Oh just listen. With intent. Marvellous cure for impassive action. But quantities of questions remain. If stung by a bee or bitten by a frog always look away towards a town for this is the true ways of the fabled traditional gnome. Pheromones are jeopardizing health portals again. Huge sigh. Atmospheric aromas ate applicable applets arousing anteaters. Oh aardvark must you hide in lavatories. Must you not visit the weapon centre of 6 1 8 2. On a boat. On a cloud ship. Or in a vesicle. One must never argue with an acrimonious cutlery drawer. Very heightened senses of a small keg. Willing a waiting. Wanting a whale. But beetle skin is preferable to pasty lobster faces. So wave little flags then. In great masses. Hahahaha steaming steaks shuffling. Hahahaha and a small tomato dancing with a six foot cucumber. Xxxxx fabaceous z
Copyright © Taoi Chanan | Year Posted 2016
An Aardvark living in Timbuktu,
Raised his finger and said,” screw you”
Why so rude, I said back,
Lovely manners you do lack.
So, to reciprocate, I gave him two.
Copyright © Kevin Shaw | Year Posted 2017
Talismanic mystical duties of an aardvark is best performed upon a desert landscape or in a dense jungle for it is merely in these two places that wild fauna can be located and ancient brands of earth can be discovered shrouded in leaves or sand particles. When balancing an uneven trampling trumpeting elephant upon a six inch cake take heed for the barrels are sharp and once fell then tusks can damage icy floors and make such a mess that it would take eons to tidy. So speak the spacial non evasive pin. Whilst the pen has a snooze the pin can prick order even in the most stale of air. It is deemed necessary that in times of chaotically placed mind beams to reside in a uniformed environment and to take great care of ones hair thus ensuring an evenly balanced persona akin to the breaths of the four seasons. In great circles move many feet. Dance dance dance like dace moving in a river. Darting in many currents globally. Yet swerve away from pike. They are predators. Ministerial mushrooms glow and flow through the canopies of many a pan. Whilst a mildew laughs. Its spores mean war upon floors and walls. Best observe a two minute silence for the loss of paper and carpet due to these mould men. So as it comes so it is and so shall it be. Visitation brief encounters can enhance even the most sceptical of beliefs and bring faith in core once more. Yet ten onions dancing in a line to the tune of the news jingle could be said to be quite insane. I mean who would cover ones skin in many layers and many manufactured goblin spokes. Ti be exact a wheel is neither a trumpet or a weapon. How minuscule the microscopic droplets of a wavering pea. Savoured by many hands. After a feast. Dipping and dunking the bread into the circular array of platters. A fine day calls for such intrepid locust feasting whilst boats are not considered yet enemy targets with a weaponry view such landscapes of mind. Hell is not a demonic plague. Hell is neither prevalent. Hell is where misted westernised consumerist attitudes dwell. And so on and so forth. And why must they infiltrate the soil. Peaceful existence we did once want. Yet now no more. And instead we riot like great victorious packs of wolves. Women are like walnuts on a tree. Pick and eat them at will. Like camels or cattle they can be used as trade. So it has always been. When the market trader in his tent ran out of food for his ten wives forty eight children and his flock what best to do although heartbreaking. Sell off his teenage daughter to the tyranny. Such was the way for many eras. And what can be said in the Wes of slavery. Slavery still today in mansion houses.
Copyright © Taoi Chanan | Year Posted 2015
The Aardvark and the Pangolin,
Romantically, had been entwined.
But infidelity, was in the air,
Aardvark, had a new suiter in mind.
Pangolin, did challenge his rival,
The Anteater with beautiful snout.
Don’t fear for me, on your betrayal,
Sweet Armadillo, is taking me out.
Copyright © Kevin Shaw | Year Posted 2017
God Made That Ugly Old Aard Vark.
Koala bears eat leafy tree vegetation...
But not in our American nation.
Aard varks eat bugs while on the fly...
To this fact, many a zoo keeper cannot deny.
Dinosaurs once walked the earth...
From a volcano came smoke and fire
Which covered a massive widely world's roundly girth.
Adam was the first earthly man...
This was God's original plan.
When Adam first saw Eve...
He pulled and he tugged on that old fig leaf,
To quench his own sexual desire.
Satan through the serpant blind sighted Adam
in God's own eyes...
After they were kicked out of Eden,
Adam had the desire for Eve's own thighs.
After sex, they both had a break,
Then they breathed a many real sighs.
Bed time, play time, was their own
deviously created own timely plan, that they did devise.
Copyright © Michael Gale | Year Posted 2007
Talismanic mystical duties of an aardvark is best performed upon a desert landscape or in a dense jungle for it is merely in these two places that wild fauna can be located and ancient brands of earth can be discovered shrouded in leaves or sand particles. When balancing an uneven trampling trumpeting elephant upon a six inch cake take heed for the barrels are sharp and once fell then tusks can damage icy floors and make such a mess that it would take eons to tidy. So speak the spacial non evasive pin. Whilst the pen has a snooze the pin can prick order even in the most stale of air. It is deemed necessary that in times of chaotically placed mind beams to reside in a uniformed environment and to take great care of ones hair thus ensuring an evenly balanced persona akin to the breaths of the four seasons. In great circles move many feet. Dance dance dance like dace moving in a river. Darting in many currents globally. Yet swerve away from pike. They are predators. Ministerial mushrooms glow and flow through the canopies of many a pan. Whilst a mildew laughs. Its spores mean war upon floors and walls. Best observe a two minute silence for the loss of paper and carpet due to these mould men. So as it comes so it is and so shall it be. Visitation brief encounters can enhance even the most sceptical of beliefs and bring faith in core once more. Yet ten onions dancing in a line to the tune of the news jingle could be said to be quite insane. I mean who would cover ones skin in many layers and many manufactured goblin spokes. Ti be exact a wheel is neither a trumpet or a weapon. How minuscule the microscopic droplets of a wavering pea. Savoured by many hands. After a feast. Dipping and dunking the bread into the circular array of platters. A fine day calls for such intrepid locust feasting whilst boats are not considered yet enemy targets with a weaponry view such landscapes of mind. Hell is not a demonic plague. Hell is neither prevalent. Hell is where misted westernised consumerist attitudes dwell. And so on and so forth. And why must they infiltrate the soil. Peaceful existence we did once want. Yet now no more. And instead we riot like great victorious packs of wolves. Women are like walnuts on a tree. Pick and eat them at will. Like camels or cattle they can be used as trade. So it has always been. When the market trader in his tent ran out of food for his ten wives forty eight children and his flock what best to do although heartbreaking. Sell off his teenage daughter to the tyranny. Such was the way for many eras. And what can be said in the Wes of slavery. Slavery still today in mansion houses. Sold for the duty of the midway house. Yet house is not a home. Scree the fortresses of a mouse. Do nit be reconciled with the vision that your tradition is a louse and instead let your wrath fire the great father sky with peanut shaped orbs. In cubic measures. Exacting great wrongs is never easy and till this day it should be Sai a saucepan that dares to boil has twelve handles and not one. Irresponsibility of labels. Carnage of a dwelling spot. Spit spat. Gratuitous flavourings of a scented mule.
Copyright © Taoi Chanan | Year Posted 2015
albert went after aardvark
annie went out on a lark
on albert a ring in the dark
Copyright © lim'rik flats | Year Posted 2016
If you are attending a game at Citizens Bank Park,
be prepared to be confronted by a big green aardvark.
This mascot of the Phillies has been nothing short of great.
He has entertained baseball fans since 1978.
The Phanatic wanders through the stands in and out.
Sometimes, he stands on top of the Phillies dugout.
With enthusiasm, he leads many a cheer.
He provides comical entertainment for all that are here.
Whether his favorite team wins or loses,
the Phanatic is the favorite each fan chooses.
Copyright © Robert Pettit | Year Posted 2012
Something out there is chasing me
Something out there is chasing me,
In the centre of a busy Town.
Malicious Red mist only I can see,
Why am I naked, from waist down?
People oblivious to my plight,
Don’t appear to know I’m there.
Wife and Children pass in the night,
Yet It’s daytime, they are unaware.
A Bull working in the Butchery shop
Is preparing fresh cuts of Man
The Clown on crossing patrol
Watches an old Lady, hit by a Van
Streets are familiar, Town not so,
Red mist morphs into an Aardvark.
I recognise a Girl I used to know,
Holding her hand, walking in the park.
No longer hiding, running scared,
Though still trying to hide my dignity.
A strange event has re-occurred,
Something out there was chasing me.
Copyright © Kevin Shaw | Year Posted 2017
Furred bodies come to build their home
with logs and twigs
creating a dry cavern under water
while above wispy lace designs
strong enough to catch a fly
swing in a soft breeze.
Within a cave
others hang upside down all day
suddenly to appear
in flight at night
without any wings
while out in the sea
gargantuan bulldozer mouths
open to siphon lilliputian krill.
(and a moment of whimsy)
come Aardvark and Platypus
to join Beaver, Spider, Bat and Whale
with millions of other
figments of a super consciousness
in a dance of life and death
out from the ether
surrounding this blue place in space
winds that roar
in a deafening silence.
Copyright © Sue Mason | Year Posted 2008
Man was born stark, innocent, into a mysterious jungle dark,
His raw brain did train at the point of a bloody fang and claw.
Around the flickering firelight, imagination sculpts, as fantastic shadows spar,
Dueling gods and goddesses came down to govern from the stars,
Fuel for a mind to worry, nature then was stubborn and cruel,
They gathered in superstitious groups to cope, sacred names gave them hope.
Fire, wheat, wheel, roof, and onto the horse’s hoof,
Proof that man had arrived, he was still alive!
But, a future flat is the world that Jehovah begat.
Jesus, and his old god kin, was crucified for our sins.
Old and new, all the religions that man knew, they never grew.
Alas, it was a sin to look through the question glass,
But, if an eye is open to the lie, how can the question die?
Once the apple has fallen from the tree, the genii must run free.
The bottle is no longer the model; truth has now gone to do battle!
Earth, sun, galaxy, infinity, multiple realities, string theory
How boring is God, how disappointing the theology,
If he is only the god of Abraham, lord of lowly man so bland,
A grain of sand, a pearl perhaps, but in a universe so grand,
One infinity, in an infinity of infinities!
Quantum to quark, then zebra to aardvark, and back again,
To all things yet undiscovered in the dark,
So, as to allow man’s soul to grow,
God has yet to find His Galileo!
Copyright © roger landry | Year Posted 2008