Best Amphibian Poems | Poetry

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MOCKINGBIRD - crown of sonnets

#1 "It is a sin to kill a Mockingbird. When playing games with rocks or guns, defray, them, please, ...shoot old tin cans!" "Whispered words of Mockingbirds, only heal wounds of the day" Virtues are cultivated, children are weeds, exploring a small southern town. Seeds, so rare, spread moral ivy, filling knotholes, threading trees, lining streets, during mad-dog summers. Scout, one sprout with solid roots, sifts wrong from right in spite of bull-headed pride. Stirring up dust, where resistance incites, although, brother, Jem, gently, grows more reserved. Scout, Jem, ...best bud, "Dill", are bronzed by summer's sky Moral's compass guides them home, as night returns #2 Moral's compass guides them home, as night returns yet challenged, the precocious child making assumptions. Folks would confound her! Some people were an oddity and quite beguiling Summer would sigh with ceiling fans, softly purring, people napping, long afternoons. Wilted yawns of a lethargic town, might seem undisturbed, with complacency, behind pruned shrubs, tall grass, mowed. Yet stilted air, would suffocate, with racial slurs and secret hate. Some hid by day, and spending their nights in masquerade, while crosses burned. We'd see a face, pretentious smile, falsely blend Integrity, at bitter cost, split wide the seams in 1930. Civil rights were just a dream #3 In 1930, civil rights were just a dream, and motherless children were coming of age. Bare feet were swift. Bandaged knees and hands unclean, would slam old screen doors, to seek lemonade. A ghost, they feared, in the raw sided house, watched close. A tree in his yard, hid treasures he stashed. The three Musketeers, upon discovering, shout! Armed by bravado, they are ready to dash. Putting yourself into another man's shoes, is a lesson, soon learned by Scout and Jem. They've faced their fear, and will make a friend. "Boo", the 'phantom', a new best friend left trinkets and gems. Kindness learned, role model intact, was Atticus Finch. A measure of integrity, inch by inch. #4 A measure of integrity, inch by inch, advocate for those who won't stand a chance. Folks down on their luck, where dollars won't stretch in a depression full blown. Money is scant. Fighting for the underdog, who have no paycheck. What's right is right. What's wrong, is wrong. Someone must stand at the end of the day, where flies fill a courtroom and tempers grow stronger. Regardless of skin, be it black, be it white Unfit, by standards of talcum shaved chins, if injustice is war, he'll give his lot. The falsely accused, he'll defend, to the end Those who wallow in mud, eventually sling lies when honor goes to hell, and folks sit idle #5 When honor goes to hell, and folks sit idle, false accusations can simmer, slowly inciting bigoted people, into mobs, spewing cries of hate. Screaming "rape" into the night. Ignorance and prejudice, are all of one stuff with corn-likker sauce and gravy mentality, amphibian worms, as if from a trough, gorging on mania. They covet brutality. Led by Bob Ewell, with arrogance oozing. Clan- fed, tantrums squirming out of control. Small minded men, choosing squalor, alluding the truth. Some would sell their mother's soul. They have lied on the stand, where justice treaded thin. Where white man's word, over a black, always wins. #6 Where a white man's word, over black, always wins, was a rule of the thumb, during those years... The innocent man, Tom, shackled, condemned, taken away and waits to die, and endure With Indian summer, waxing and waning, Atticus chooses the simplest words. His children need, wisdom, and calm understanding, in trying to explain, that most men are good. He tells them, gently, how someone so crude, even Bob Ewell, no matter how evil perhaps in his life, was misunderstood. The hellish of summers begins to unravel. But another ill wind, would brew up a storm, to bring more than a flurry, into their home. #7 To bring more than a flurry into their home, burnt embers of color, drift down, red and yellow. Carved pumpkins, and a grieving autumn, looms in the night. Roaches encroach, deep in the shadows As Scout rushes homeward, behind her on the trail, a whiskey-breath nightmare, with evil intentions Then, someone appears! Halts this devil,...,Ewell is not immortal! .....as we come to conclusion. A guardian presence, waiting to rally has kept a vigil, guarding children who run, swiftly through thickets. Lonely Boo Radley, appeared like an angel, a bird seeking the sun So pure of heart, and a thing so rare It is a sin to kill a mockingbird
__________________________ Re-submitted for Skat's Premiere Contest: #4


Copyright © Carrie Richards | Year Posted 2014


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Mother Nature's Little Prince

A most beautiful little green frog swims quietly and so gracefully
While his eyes gaze gently on a mountain looming in the distance.
He’s at ease as he swims in a deep forest pond warmed by the sun.
Lost catching flies inside the shadows as an echo holds on to a
Certain gentle stillness within him humming with burning sighs.

This little green frog was called “Froggy” by Mother Nature,
And he was her little precious star-light promise of pretty colors.
Froggy was the Gem of Her Eyes: handsome, funny and intelligent 
With kindness so overwhelming and a soft-touching tenderness.
He was talkative, and quiet princely by his apparent noble mien.

Froggy had a divine hope and destiny to wish for a dream princess.
Mother Nature knew that “Her Froggy” was indeed so magical as
His golden fingers of light painted a rainbow array of new born life.
“Her Froggy” was much more than a mere amphibian in this life,
Although he was dark green and sprinkled with light black spots.

Froggy lay on a lily leaf faraway as his thoughts sailed freely into
Another world, where his most infectious and funny smile made him
Quite popular and noticeable to a beautiful young fairy princess who
Was smitten instantly with his looks and his princely correct behavior.
For the young fairy princess it was love at first sight—and so precious! 

Froggy was slowly changing and love became his desire and passion.
With a purity shone silver in streaming beauties of light pure gold
At the rainbow’s end was a bridge of his loving tears as he sang a 
Melodious song of love with a supreme confidence for the princess.
Upon meeting his princess their mutual fate was woven now as one.

Mother Nature’s enchanted wish for “Her Froggy” and his princess
Was now at hand for their love and emotion were now blended as one.
All that remained was that magical kiss to make them both human.
When these two beings of wondrous beauty kissed—the very stars
And comets in Heaven above shone so brightly that night became day!

With love and the omnipotent and majestic whisk of God’s divine hand,
Froggy and his princess metamorphosed into complete human form!
This was truly a sight in Heaven itself to behold and cherish for eternity!
Now they were a royal pair: A prince and his princess in love—reflected
In the radiant colored light of a mystical rainbow of heavenly direction.

Mother Nature cried joyous tears of hope and happiness at this splendid
Occurrence, making the very rivers on Earth flow in a great abundance
With the sweetest and purest mountain spring water one could imagine!
Now as “Her Froggy”—a real prince now—kissed his princess again,
God’s angels anointed them with heavenly star dust shining so brightly!

The new prince now known as “Frederic,” and his princess took their
Royal places in human society with no one ever suspecting or knowing
From whence or where they came, and their divine relationship to
Mother Nature herself, which was her secret and their secret shared 
Together and forever to the very end of time!

Gary Bateman and Liam McDaid – A Collaborated Poem, 
Copyright © All Rights Reserved (July 5, 2015) (Narrative)


Copyright © liam mcdaid | Year Posted 2015


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Mother Nature's Little Prince

Mother Nature’s Little Prince

A most beautiful little green frog swims quietly and so gracefully
While his eyes gaze gently on a mountain looming in the distance.
He’s at ease as he swims in a deep forest pond warmed by the sun.
Lost catching flies inside the shadows as an echo holds on to a
Certain gentle stillness within him humming with burning sighs.

This little green frog was called “Froggy” by Mother Nature,
And he was her little precious star-light promise of pretty colors.
Froggy was the Gem of Her Eyes: handsome, funny and intelligent 
With kindness so overwhelming and a soft-touching tenderness.
He was talkative, and quiet princely by his apparent noble mien.

Froggy had a divine hope and destiny to wish for a dream princess.
Mother Nature knew that “Her Froggy” was indeed so magical as
His golden fingers of light painted a rainbow array of new born life.
“Her Froggy” was much more than a mere amphibian in this life,
Although he was dark green and sprinkled with light black spots.

Froggy lay on a lily leaf faraway as his thoughts sailed freely into
Another world, where his most infectious and funny smile made him
Quite popular and noticeable to a beautiful young fairy princess who
Was smitten instantly with his looks and his princely correct behavior.
For the young fairy princess it was love at first sight—and so precious! 

Froggy was slowly changing and love became his desire and passion.
With a purity shone silver in streaming beauties of light pure gold
At the rainbow’s end was a bridge of his loving tears as he sang a 
Melodious song of love with a supreme confidence for the princess.
Upon meeting his princess their mutual fate was woven now as one.

Mother Nature’s enchanted wish for “Her Froggy” and his princess
Was now at hand for their love and emotion were now blended as one.
All that remained was that magical kiss to make them both human.
When these two beings of wondrous beauty kissed—the very stars
And comets in Heaven above shone so brightly that night became day!

With love and the omnipotent and majestic whisk of God’s divine hand,
Froggy and his princess metamorphosed into complete human form!
This was truly a sight in Heaven itself to behold and cherish for eternity!
Now they were a royal pair: A prince and his princess in love—reflected
In the radiant colored light of a mystical rainbow of heavenly direction.

Mother Nature cried joyous tears of hope and happiness at this splendid
Occurrence, making the very rivers on Earth flow in a great abundance
With the sweetest and purest mountain spring water one could imagine!
Now as “Her Froggy”—a real prince now—kissed his princess again,
God’s angels anointed them with heavenly star dust shining so brightly!

The new prince now known as “Frederic,” and his princess took their
Royal places in human society with no one ever suspecting or knowing
From whence or where they came, and their divine relationship to
Mother Nature herself, which was her secret and their secret shared 
Together and forever to the very end of time!

Gary Bateman and Liam McDaid – A Collaborated Poem, 
Copyright © All Rights Reserved (July 5, 2015) (Narrative)


Copyright © Gary Bateman | Year Posted 2015


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Enough For All

ENOUGH FOR ALL 
by Wordancer

All the species of this world, whether mammal, fish or bird
Are provided with their food, whatever their taste
Each created for the other,
When the offspring leaves the mother
There is all the food that’s needed without waste.

The ants will feed the lizard, and in turn, it feeds the Hawk 
The flies they feed the spiders, then the frogs.
The amphibian feeds the snake 
Which the Kookaburras take 
And in time, they all feed ants inside the logs.

The logs fall from mighty trees that house and feed the tiny bees
that fertilize the plants we use as foods.
With rain and sun the crops will flourish
And when harvested, they can nourish
All the peoples in the world, if we so choose

Foods for all the nations are here in God’s Creations,
Glorious is the spirit that’s big enough to care.
Food goes where it’s needed
If our sight is not impeded 
Or we keep it for ourselves when there’s enough for all to share.

In this world of ours we’re brothers, sisters, fathers, mothers,
We’re all related by living on this earth.
Whatever we do tomorrow
Can bring happiness or sorrow
Today is when we work out what it’s worth.


Copyright © J Eliza JAMES | Year Posted 2012


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Crows of the Common Senses

that amphibian skinned day
in time will soften to cotton
perhaps even a strand of silk 
with love forever entwined

the heart pond filled with nibbling ghouls
in time
turns to whispy whispers of silky soothe
just hold on for another moment
nothing can soil a heart forever
not even the village fool

that angel mind, 
pecked by crimson crows
singing that same worn song
"where did it all go...go...go......go
just hold on for yet another moment
the haunt and hurt will turn to blue bird mist
chirping "it never left you dear one
it was there all along". 
you never were really left alone".

those horrible things 
coming from the mouth of fear
with time
will turn to flowers on golden glade...
the honorable seed takes time to blossom
and never chain stem and petal 
to the burning vase of mundane

that off taste in the goblet 
will turn to something needed
something far beyond sweetened
just hold onto the chain of hopeful moments
for infinity if need be


Copyright © Anthony Slausen | Year Posted 2016


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This wonderful World

Who can dispute me in this wonderful world?
We are black, we are white and we are colored	
But we live in same planet floating like Eagle
All of us are humans and bleed red blood

Who can dispute me in this wonderful world?
We are Africans, we are Europeans, we are Arabs
But we need food and we eat by mouth, not legs
All of us need the same oxygen to live on and off

Who can dispute me in this wonderful world?
We speak Chinese, Arabic, English, and Swahili
But we all have bodies that are fragile and bony
And all of us need the weak body to live a life

Which human is an angel but human?
Which human has yellow blood in metallic body?
Which human is an amphibian, or airborne? 	
So which human is more human than humanity?


Copyright © Solomon Ochwo-Oburu | Year Posted 2016


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Life Is a Jungle

One person, you think may equal one mind 
but in each personality, there is much more to find.
Homo sapiens and the animal kingdom are separated in ways, 
but are connected secretly, in each soul there is a craze.
The craze of emotions that stampede through your spirit,
your natural being is calling, can’t you hear it?
In each person there is a balance of behavioral traits,
and unto each person some animals relate.
Some may take to the speed of a dragonfly, 
zipping through life with time floating by.
Others may proceed with the spirit of a sloth, plotting along,
as quick as molasses, one who acts prolonged.
Although some may compare to a sturdy draft horse,
trotting along steadily, always sure and acting readily. 
People’s tolerance presents a different view,
for some, patience is the key, but to this others haven’t a clue.
Patience is like a spider, spinning its web, thread by thread,
you become closer to the final goal, positive thoughts keep you ahead.
Others, like young animals, want to speed ahead of time,
stopping at nothing, but ending up in a bind.
However, if you learn well from your kind, whether amphibian or mammal, 
your level of patience could be the size of a hump on a camel. 
All have characteristics that can never be taken away, 
like a slug they will stick and stay. 
Some are wise, enigmatic at heart,
like panthers and leopards, for a start.
Lions stand for the brave and proud,
while the loyal dog kowtows to the crowd.  
We all experience different feelings throughout the day,
as we morph into different forms, in every way.
Sometimes we feel like a chameleon, blending into the crowd,
not wanting to be seen, feeling frightened and un-proud. 
Other times we seem to be a minnow in a sea of bass, 
how can you be unique, with an ordinary reputation as solid as brass?
Then there are moments of joy and bliss, 
like a soaring eagle you shall prey over this.  
Sometimes you may feel like a worm, wriggling blindly through life,
as you remain unfeeling to any emotion, joy or strife.
Each moment in this world, people are changing, 
their emotions forever rearranging.  
The untamable animal within their hearts, 
comes out and reflects their personality on each and everyone, like directed darts.
The question is “what animal shall you become?” every moment each day,
but the eternal instincts inside of you shall know the true way.




Copyright © Megan Kibler | Year Posted 2007


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Wetland Song

The April morning's quiet
and so is the November.
Wherever people outnumber trees
or the dominant cover type
is unquiet. Nothing wrong with that.
Walt got it right, and Jane Jacobs:
the city is an experienced,
used beauty. Her toes are long,
nails thick and hair thin. Yet
her kisses can be sweet; or
smell of ****. All my life I've tried to point my window toward
some narrow wedge of nature.
On Seaman Ave., over the roof
beyond the chimney to the park
where every dog was walked.
Could I survive soot and an air shaft now, pigeons and cats,
or even a desk in the legislature for my lot in life. How about
prison like Etheridge Knight,
Nazim Hikmet?
I've gotten soft.
When he builds that house in the pocket
wetland my window now looks out on,
the developer will have given me what I need.
Amphibian mortality,
gravel, fill,
oak, ash and maples felled. Good
to the last drop is our bitterness, our love.







Copyright © Robert Ronnow | Year Posted 2015


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Lend Me Your Heart oh Child

Worth and numbers rarely go hand in hand. Producing seeds which will rot and be eaten by the locust makes barrenness a special kind of blessing. So pay attention and lend me your mind oh child b'cos from it comes the brush to which your life is coloured. Rights enable you claim your hat responsibilities show you when and how to wear it. Manifestation of your works beyond the comprehension of your mates exalts the power of your mind but constant announcement of your own achievements makes you the promoter of their doubts to crown you a liar. Vehicles driven by words are no match for the ones handled by deeds. Let not your free will be cajoled grudges in a hidden corner after the exhibition of charity blows out your light with an awful breath. A non doer and an adamant “no” giver still possess some honour when compared to a chronic complainer. Reputation decorates the corner of an uptight man but it is slavery when one lives on too many principles. A good life is one moving on the chariots of freedom and freedom is running a lifestyle both within and outside without much notice. Habits are great managers to conscience’s liquor stores and character intoxication is closest to the point of irreversibility. A greedy mind is a warehouse run by waste with no room for left overs. A tight fisted hand is self limiting, reducing its surface area to receive. A mind without courtesy to its environs, spinning the world around its own orbit breeds selfishness. Corruption builds thorns around the heart and makes the soul a direct relation to insanity. If false words were grapes, water would be tastier than wine. Exaggeration adds a tail to the bird and makes the dog an Amphibian. But love gives poisons no ground to strive satisfaction without it is the existence of a Leopard in an Elephant’s skin. The gardens of space filled with little rainbows cannot outshine its colours; staying as the only ingredient necessary for the preservation of humanity. When your mind is at peace with itself, then is the Joy of my inheritance to you completely whole.


Copyright © Funom Makama | Year Posted 2016


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Science and man

with all the scientific discoveries
and the myriads of innovations
the scientific man is a vast failure
now think about these;

reproduction by binary fission in humans
perfumed by-product of digestion
blue blood in place of boring red
winged flight to the skies as birds
self-manufacturing of food as plants
upgrading of life expectancy to 1000 years
elimination of old age and wastage
prediction of year of death at birth
geographical location of heavenly world
turning ocean space into solid earth for living
an amphibian humans living as fish
conceiving humans that think one way
making humans into solely peaceful beings

scientific man, where are you?
pick one above and play into reality



Copyright © Solomon Ochwo-Oburu | Year Posted 2017


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A Thought Of A Frog

If only I could fly like the birds round 
The world in joy and excitement, i
Would have been the happiest animal on earth.
If only I have shell and wisdom like the Tortoise,
I would have been the wisest animal on earth;
No one will kill  or even intimidate me like this.


If only I am a mammal not an Amphibian,
I would have been better off in life than others.
If only my two hind legs are shorter and the other
Two are longer than the hinds, I would have run
As fast as the ostrich and prop not like this little me.
Had it been this webbed feet of mine are like that of a duck, what won't I achieve on earth when I swim?


I won't have been here if my nose and my eyes are not on my head but on my face like humans and goat.
I wonder why Goats are stupid and Cat lazy whilst they have what it take to get to the peak like men.
These thoughts that goats are unwise form clusters in my mind always and I can't help but cry here.



Why was I created like this? 
Why do I have big eyes but can't use them wisely?
I can make my eyes go in and out of the socket but
This I don't like, I want to be like the Horse and Hen!
My ears are rightly behind my bulging Eyes,
My sticky long tongue attached in front of my mouth,
Why? Why?  Why is my tongue attached in there?


If you see Mr Rabbit on your way home,
Tell him I need his eyes and ears for an exchange.
Tell him I don't want to be a cold blooded animal,
Tell him I don't want a moist skin any more,
We can exchange environment now; the creator is unwise in creating me here that stink like hell.
I want to drink water like humans not absorbing it! 



Maybe if Mr Rabbit reject my offer, you can
Talk to the meek Dove that comes to you.
Tell him I don't want to breathe through my skin again, we can exchange environment for a minute.
I will like it up there where the air is abundant.
I don't want to sheds my skin and then eats it like
A Dog who vomited and returned back to its vomits.
Although it keeps me healthy but I don't want it.



I am tired of being a frog and I can't help it being a frog in this rejected area of life where life is a jungle.





(C) John chizoba Vincent
All Right Reserved 2016


 





Copyright © john chizoba vincent | Year Posted 2016


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The Graffiti of Middle Earth

Or Bored With The Rings

Carved into a tree in Mirkwood:
Watch out for Treebeard, girls. He's fast!

On a restroom wall in the Shire:
Hoo boy! that Bilbo Baggins,
I'm so tired of His Naggins.

 
Scribbled on the pink walls of a Mordor Pissoir in black ichor:
Sauron sucks Galadriel's toes!
Do Nazguls really need to go?
Free Gollum! Scrawled on the poker table in the Orc's Recreation Room:
Those Nazguls are such creeps
They've been dead so long
They actually think DVDs
Are really BVDs.

Once every millennia or so Galadriel's Mirror fogs up. . .
Elrond's mother was a brunette!
Arwen rocks me!
The Grey Havens suck.
Who's your Daddy?
 
Attributed to Orcs in the Mines of Moria:
Elves, schmelves
They think their ichor don't stink.

More from Moria:
Mordor!
I'll give you Mordor,
You two-timing dwarf!
 
Attributed to a bright Olog-hai at Isengard:
How many dwarves does it take to change a light bulb in the caves of Moria?
Answer - At least fifty: One to change the bulb, one to twiddle his beard while wondering what a light bulb is, and 48 to feed the cave troll!

 
Lipstick (from wild berries of course) smeared on the mirror in the Rivendell Ladies Room
He's so pretty, he's so cool
I can't help it, Legolas rules!

 
Stencilled on an inner wall at Minas Tirith:
Gandalf rides a whisk broom!
Thimk, you Hobbits!
Boromir slept here with Hobbits.
Gimli did too!

 
Carved on the White Tree:
Isildur did it!
Bored with the Rings (Initials below are almost illegible but may be JRRT.)

While not technically graffiti, the items that follow were sent to me by another clandestine source. Though he did not request anonymity, I am still loathe to attribute these materials to someone known to me only as that "Fool of a Took."

 
A small collection of Middle-Earth bumper stickers:
Orcs do it in the dark!
Wizards do it with will!
Balrogs fire it up!
Elves do it lightly!
Rangers do it with elves!
Merry changed his name and did it!
Nazguls used to do it!
Trolls still wonder. . .

 
Recent headlines in The Gondor World News:
Treebeard Is the Father of My Child!
I Was a Balrog Love Slave
Samwise Gamgee Separates from Mr. Frodo
Merry and Pip. . .Together Again
Eowyn Breaks Up Aragorn and Arwen's Love Nest
Amphibian Rescued from Flames. . .

 Frodo lives. . . and though sick and tired of elves, is hiding from Samwise in the Grey Havens


Copyright,  Thomas James Martin, all rights reserved.



Copyright © Thomas Martin | Year Posted 2015


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Late Summer

It has been beautiful, late August, full moon
a million crickets following
a million fireflies in June, 
a million May peepers. Immersed
in insect, amphibian cycles, I am a mammal, drugged, 
crossing the road, car approaching
fast, unnoticed.

I would choose to die in late summer.
Why? 
So that my wife would have autumn, intense, 
to grieve by, 
snowy bandages with which to bind the wound, 
and spring to reawaken into.
Summer to remember that she's loved.







Copyright © Robert Ronnow | Year Posted 2015


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Moon Frogs

Amphibian antiquities from the age of normalcy Pathologically festive creatures of the night Verdant phosphor moon frogs bark their insistent mating call Adorned with talismans, chanting mantras of maroon heroism Conflagration of croaking becomes ritualized war of tongues Imaginary walls dissolve in a primitive hallucination Reveling in the sour, smoky breath of temporary lobotomies Delirious mating rituals driven by besotted blind instinct Hopping from one log to another as they founder In brackish muck, the shore hidden in the velvet mist As thousands of concealed pupils hungrily constrict Like squirrels bouncing blithely down the high voltage wire Deaf to the jeers and taunts of the pavement below Until light's fracture pursues them back to their lairs Scurrying for the inky, viscous holes in the soft, cool bank 4/23/16 © Thomas W. Quigley


Copyright © Tom Quigley | Year Posted 2016


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I Like Frogs

These creatures begin life as tadpoles in a lake. What a radical change in morphology they take! They lose their tails, and grow rather long legs. Age makes a big difference from fertilized eggs. They usually come out with the vanishing of the sunlight. Do you hear their croaking sounds at night? These amphibian vertebrates are known as an “anuran”. Frogs have existed on the earth longer than man. Inspired by another member's poem


Copyright © Robert Pettit | Year Posted 2014


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Life, The Interloper

There is a small eternity
'Twixt my coming and my going.
Though it be filled with riddles
And words crawling in the mud,
Time is no interloper, and I freeze.

Up from the shale and storm,
Up from the majesty crawling forth to mate,
Life shouts like a thunder shock.
The earth retches,
And a form arises from the thin mud,
	amphibian as a cross.

Part fish,
Part rat,
It is inscribed on the genes,
And I read it like a nettled book.
I read the record of the dead
And wonder, could this be us?
Or from a passing comet do we hail?


Copyright © Bill Yates | Year Posted 2015


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LET'S SAIL TOGETHER

Sailing in the living current
in the sea of legend
travelling to cross with wind
the stars are to destine.

From the land of warriors
the amphibian lords
paddling the swishing swords
unsheathed the blade of words.

For peace in history
the bravery is story
the courage is legendary
the truth that set 'em free.

The sail is raised
raging the high waves
ravaging the enemies
when the falsehood are friends.

Let's sail together
reaching the order
settling the chaotic cheer
facing the battle fair.


I love you peace. Let's sail together. Layag Sug!
03-01-2015, Tasik Cruise, Putrajaya.


Copyright © Neldy Jolo | Year Posted 2015


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TOWERS OF MYSTERY

TOWERS OF MYSTERY
‘        ‘      ‘        ‘        ‘

Floundering, bit by bit, clawing my way to wisdom of ages,
The sands burn delicate membranes of my bones
I can go no further, maybe I will waste to die here...
Diving, way below past equinox of  rolling ocean divide ,
I feel no weight of flesh, the abyss releases her grip.

What is this place?

A vast city, towers of myth’s silvery metal,
Yet I can see nothing but ocean from the height of every wall,
Can this be what I have sought in the fables of Atlantis?
Through my weakened eyes, armies gather in golden armor,
Meeting a  horde of beings creeping from the very sea! 

What could this be?

The crunch of their amphibian feet upon alabaster sands,
Filling the water bed with stench of decomposing debris
Emitting forth these creatures’ smell from her deepest bowels?
The air is violent, spitting with arrows, thick with screams,
The noble Atlantics are fighting for their very lives!

Can I be part of this?

The arrows and blast of sun- crystals pass right through me,
I feel nothing, damned by observing the fall of humanoids.
The crystal cannons of Atlantis' towers cannot hold them,
Leaving me to chill in an open ocean of mystery
As waters swallow a frontier once glorified by legend's magic... 

Tell me, am I dead?



©

------------------------

Carolyn Devonshire: Unsolved Mysteries Contest


Copyright © nette onclaud | Year Posted 2011


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BENCHMARK OF HOPE

I saw old images of different views of Ho Lang Island
The stone towers built by Spanish still standing erect
I felt nostalgic to look at the past of this island
It was dubbed as a "no man's island"
It was a beautiful city compared to Cebu and Manila.

I wasn't aware that even my tears are crying
The tears told me that I am physically crying
When there was no name given by Kastila
The people here are very peaceful and kind
 With that derogatory name they are blind.

The name got a less effect to their psyche
The ‘currental’ people in the archipelago
I want to see the image to peace
I want see the olden days peace
The olden days that has been told to me.

I felt grey to look at the images of wars
The wars affecting the society’s fabric
I am pretty-handsome sure of the peace
In this island will reign once more
I only need amphibian warriors.

I hope they come to the way of peace
Regain their lost or snatched fate
I am proud that I was born with faith
My "uneducated" parents did
I like my mother kindness
And my father’s principle I seek.

Their hearts are towards anyone else
But only to hold the benchmark of hope
In here, I remained to stage the truth
I am proudly listening to hope
My forefathers once told.

In order to win the cause
I don't ever think of winning
But do work to finish the cause.
As I always believe there's no victory
When victory itself a loser to achieve.

It is the cause for peace that led to the conflict
When peace is armed with fake faith
And while looking at the shadow of the past
I won’t loosen my faith in the cause for peace
Even it will cost me myself, and later my life.

I am donating myself to seek for justice and peace
God knows what's in my heart and consciousness
I really do love my homeland of peace
The home of the warriors’ backbone of steels 
They are warriors that were raging the high seas.

They counter attack the foreign invaders
After keeping the role of defense
I want to keep this note as short as one word
But it is the note that is happy to be noted uphold
If that is the story for the Ho Lang people of hope.

I am saying goodbye to inform you
I am gonna see you again sooner or later
A very significant place of harmony is better
In the near future you will come to near
I cross my fingers for that will!



I love you peace. Let's sail together. Layag Sug!
Purple Coach, City of Widow
12 April 2015. 3:05AM


Copyright © Neldy Jolo | Year Posted 2015


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Oblivion

6/6/17

Are we part simian?
A centered or off kilter equilibrium
Near or far from the prime meridian
And any kind of amphibian
As well as snowflake obsidian
Items and objects that do or don't require lithium
And or iridium
Choices, accidents, and nature could lead to oblivion
No need for a idiom
I wasn't once ever kidding when
I said I was part Native American aka Indian

Plus or minus
Times of peace and crisis
Endless noise, or pure silence
What exactly is righteous?
Never will I bow to any highness
Another wanting to see me lifeless
So damn typical in this day and age, little to nothing surprises
People being indecisive
Or divisive
Relying on hiding through disguises
All others except themselves are considered sacrifices

With you I wouldn't ever have an alliance
Or give you guidance
Put what's left of you under redwood giants
So that it couldn't be traced by any improvements in forensic science


Copyright © Dalton Ogletree | Year Posted 2017


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Counting Coup

Everything the power does it does in a circle

It's just like when the amphibian carried the arthropod across the river,
the scorpion couldn't help himself when he stung brother frog,
and I can't help myself when I go to the ATM and push two asians out of the way to get to 
my meager wages because 
by god it just feels so good to win no matter how many people I have to sting to do it.

The elders say that when raven took the sun into the sky he ended eternal night,
replacing it with cycles of sol and luna smiling on the people.

Well now the people have better lights, 
pulsing and flashing in epilleptic ecstasy while noises sound from the speakers.

It often seems that I am being counted coup upon, 
mocked in the eleventh hour,
And I don't even have a smallpox blanket on my person.

This bumbling hub of a casino is not where I die, where I am defeated.
But for now I will retreat,
leaving a trail of tears to my car.

-For the Chehalis indians


Copyright © Geoffery McHugh | Year Posted 2009


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I'm a Great Crested Newt

I must state
That I am great,
I have a crest,
I’m simply the best.
Oh yes – I’m a Great Crested Newt!

I am brownish black,
With warts all over my back,
My orange tum has black spots
It looks just like join-the-dots.
Oh my – I’m a Great Crested Newt!

If I lose a toe or a leg
Another one grows instead,
My spots on my tum
Are different for everyone.
Oh wow – I’m a Great Crested Newt!

Being an amphibian is great,
I can move on any substrate,
Beneath rocks I sleep
And under compost heaps.
Oh yawn – I’m a Great Crested Newt!

In Winter when the year is late,
I need to hibernate,
In Spring I awake
And to water I take.
Oh gulp – I’m a Great Crested Newt!

I do a dance when I mate,
The females think I am great!
Up to 300 eggs are laid,
Not all hatch though, I’m afraid.
Oh boy – I’m a Great Crested Newt!

I have to be careful of fish
As I make them a tasty dish,
I come out at night 
As Earthworms I bite,
Oh yum – I’m a Great Crested Newt!

Being a Newt is cool!
I might live in your pool.
But please don’t touch
I’m rare, as such.
Oh dear – I’m a Great Crested Newt!

My species is protected
So I must not be collected
Look after me
Or there won’t be
Any Great Crested Newts! 

I wrote this when I was 8 years old, on 28th May 2013.


Copyright © Nathan Bach | Year Posted 2015


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Soak it . . .

Pouring down its torrents of warmth
I look up to behove this splendid sight
Beaming love and happiness on all around
Earth drenching its goodness into the ground

Each flower peeps out its sensual soul
Slowly soaking in this serene whole
Each amphibian basking in delirious abandon
Coveting each moment in secret longing 

Avarice and greed, facetious noneties
All hold back and surrenders in peace
As I deliciously embrace this soul from above
Filled with wholesome and pure sublime love

Sauntering through this intimate slumber
Barefoot and unabashed I inhale this wonder


Copyright © FATHIMA DAWOOD | Year Posted 2009


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Morning Fog Memory

Morning Fog Memory

Lamp-eyed frogs on this misty morning croak guttural sounds that break the silence of muffling condensation,
Their ancient amphibian eyes blinking slowly as shutter lenses at a fifth of a second. 
Lenses that once caught photos of us in scintillating amber sunsets permanence beguiles 
Time remakes space  
The frozen moments of love once viable we store in our minds as round full and glossy as dewdrops balanced on the wintry friable leaf 
Those old people of the past entombed in the faded yellow-hues with smiles 
With worn out ideas of an age long vanished… 
We too wear are trousers rolled as we grow old,
 I think of you in this mist.  



Copyright © Toni Orban | Year Posted 2016


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ODE TO THE FROG IN THE BREEZEWAY

"Egin superbe a la robuste echine, par toi Marseille a pu au prix 
       d'un long effort, retirer des flots bleus, la celebre sardine 
       qui depuis cinquante ans bouchat l'entree de port" 
                       --caption on a Vieux Port photograph

In the seaport city of Marseille there is a tale
of a sardine as large as a whale,"plucked 
from streams of blue," as the French 
succinctly put it, that blocked the entrance 
of the Vieux Port for fifty years. Is it for folklore 
of the fabled fish that a small green frog 
takes residence in my breezeway?  It's 

not his fault if a need for salt 
led him to linger beside my doorway.
He likes hanging out at the Old Port, grace 
a' the photograph at my entrance, straddling
its frame, or dozing behind a decorated doorplate:
a miniature "maison" with Spanish tiles dubbed 
"Familia Perez," appointing him resident frog, 

main man of my diminished household, where
coming or going, we exchange small pleasantries,  
(or I do).  Civil land-lady to Family "Ranidae's" 
amphibian animal.  Let him stay, I say, 
because I like his style.  Too small to be called
king, I crown him a prince: His Highness, Lord 
of the Breezeway.  "Don't kiss any frogs 

unless they're from Marseille," parting words 
from a departing friend, so I don't pucker up for 
this one.  Big Frog, Little Frog, it's not the size 
that counts. He's here to reinvent Pagnol: 
Panisse and Fanny, a new, improved Marius 
who left the sailor's life to find a wife--
chose me instead of the sea.



Copyright © Nola Perez | Year Posted 2009