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Hibernating Badger by Stebbings, Barry
THE WAY TO BADGER 1979 by Stevens, James Christopher
Badger and the Muffin by Kimathi, Teddy
Farewell my Badger friend by Harris, STANLEY
Not Feeling Tracey's Badger by Foster, Gail
Visiting the Badger Hole by Enloe, Glen

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The Best Badger Poems

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Word Squirrel

Rodents can be loquacious
That includes your average gerbil
They love to prattle, chat and blather
They really are quite verbal

Hamsters are talkative too
Just as garrulous as can be
With running mouth and wheel to match
They are a sight to see

But I am loath to squander words
Sparing usage is my way
I gather them like so many acorns
Against a rainy day

Yes, word collecting is the passion
Of this precocious squirrel
I garner adjectives, verbs and nouns
Be they singular or plural

The park is fecund land
There a plethora may be found
Vociferous, vehement and vex
I lately scooped up off the ground

The verb tree is prolific
Its discovery quite a boon
The other day it bestowed upon me
Flaunt, foster and festoon

All along the sidewalks
Concrete nouns lie strewn about
How blithely I did snatch up
A lummox, a laggard and a lout

To command a better view
I nimbly scampered up a pole
From this lofty perch I spotted
Wheedle, coax and cajole

Away in the distance
I spied a tempting pile
Heaped up for the taking were
Enticing, alluring and beguile

What do I with so much verbiage?
You would be fair to ask
Squirreling away so vast a lexicon
Must prove a mammoth task

The answer lies in my arboreal abode
Where these many words I stash
In alphabetical order they are arrayed
From zealous to abash

In a capricious mood one day
I grouped them by part of speech
Such a cacophony arose from clustering
Banter, badger and beseech

No matter how I sort them
The wasting of words I spurn
Reserved for rarest use I keep
Reticent, laconic and taciturn!

_________________________________

by Brian McClain - Feb 17, 2016


Originally posted Feb 17, 2016
Accidentally deleted Feb 22, 2016
Reposted Feb 22, 2016


Copyright © Brian McClain | Year Posted 2016


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Love List

Love
     By Dane Smith-Johnsen

Love approaches and does not scare.
Love bears and does not let go.
Love cares and does not shrink.
Love declares and does not shun.
Love establishes and does not tear down.
Love forgives and does not remind.
Love gives and does not expect.            
Love has and does not gloat.
Love hears and does not tell.
Love hopes and does not give up.
Love instills and does not corrupt.
Love joins and does not run over.
Love keeps and does not stray.
Love lives and does not stress.
Love manages and does not control. 
Love persuades but does not discourage.
Love proclaims and does not hide.
Love questions and does not badger.
Love rejoices and does not displease.
Love sees and does not condemn.
Love talks and does not defame.
Love understands and does not misconstrue.
Love values and does not insult.
Love wants and does not ignore.
Love XOXOXOX and does not reject.
Love yearns, and does not insist.
Love zaps, and does not destroy.

LET US LOVE ONE ANOTHER.


Copyright © Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen | Year Posted 2009


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The Night Market

If you wait until the sun goes down,
a thousand suns will rise.
Artificial, bright, igniting
tangled clouds in smoggy skies,
and flooding dingy streets
with fluorescent streams of light
that carry waves of people,
cresting, crashing, clashing 
across mismatched sidewalks.
They speak in foreign tongues
that lick like wild flames
and burn with glowing strangeness
as cockroaches skulk and scurry
beneath makeshift stands
where pairs of busy hands
prepare the strangest foods,
from skewered squid and snakes
to crepes and pineapple cakes,
cubes of deep-fried tofu
and the freshest dragon fruit.
Watch them badger, hear them barter
over onyx rings and jade bangles
beside rose quartz beads that dangle
from scratched display cases.
The market throbs with energy,
a living entity that swallows me.
And when I think I've lost myself,
I focus on that giddy sound,
the universal language
that transcends all others.
They laugh, and I smile.

*Based on a night market I visited in Taiwan last year


Copyright © Heather Ober | Year Posted 2013


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Daniel the Conqueror

In a land far away was a family with two boys
The oldest loved sports the youngest only toys.
You should be like your big brother the father would always say
It’s time for you to toughen up and leave this childish play.
Yes Quinton was a fighter, loved games of every sort,
But nothing did he want to do more than play a sport.
Daniel he was meek and mild a softie like his mother
He hated when his dad would say, “Be more like your brother.”
Hurt and down he took a walk up on a rocky hill
Throwing stones hard at the water, he let his anger spill.
Why doesn’t my dad love me? Into the air he cried,
Kicking rocks with fists curled, tight against his side.

Meanwhile on an island far across the sea
A leader spoke to the animals, almost like a plea.
Legends say a leader from mainland shall appear 
A strong and faithful warrior, a boy that has no fear.
How shall we find this man child? Asked the animals out loud,
We’ve never seen a human said a yearling really proud.
The Albatross said strong and brave, I will bring him here
I know he isn’t very far, I feel his presence near.
The bird flew out across the sea searching high and low
Wondering where he’d find him, the boy they needed so.
There; high up on a hill side a warrior stood so tall,
He knew it was the chosen one, for he could hear him call.

Now in a flash he swooped down, grabbed Daniel real fast
The albatross was thinking, I’ve found the boy at last.
Daniel he was screaming as he dangled by one leg
Flying over water yelling let me go I beg.
As they neared the island, the animals all gathered round
Watching as the big white bird, let their hero down.
Welcome said a racoon, we’ve waited here so long
Today we’ll have a party, let’s fill the woods with song.
They sat all night telling horrible tales of an enemy they feared
And all felt a little safer now that Daniel had appeared.
I’m not the hero you think I am, there’s been a bad mistake
And a little bunny looked at him, you must be for my sake.

Daniel fell in love that night with all his new friends here
None of them made him feel bad, they made him feel so dear.
For their sakes I must beat this foe, an enemy, a disgrace 
Making sure he never comes back to this peaceful place.
For days they planned together, what everyone would do
And when the varmint showed up they stood up to him too.
Instead of running and hiding, they stood together tight 
The badger lost the battle and ran home fast that night.
The wise old owl thanked Daniel for ridding the beast at last
Conquering their worst enemy, who now is in the past.
On wings of love the hero left his friends on the islands strand
When Daniel went back home that day, he had become a man.

The moral of my story? With a little love and trust,
Everyone can be a hero, we are more than clay and dust.
 
Written by Brenda Meier-Hans 
10.18.2014
Carol Eastman’s Contest: 
Fable to the Rescue 
1st


Copyright © Brenda Meier-Hans | Year Posted 2014


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The Dark Green Conifers

another day in the woods. on Strawberry ridge
looking out over undulating green hills to
the next great wall ridge of mountains. the last
morning clouds left from last night's storm
hanging in the valley mistily. the sun eventually
burns them away.

the respect between old Paul Karlsen and I continues
to exist. even though he's a Mormon and I'm a fallen
New Yorker. the work is comparatively easy, lifting
hundred pound bags, so you can just imagine what
we do other days. in fact, it's fun, especially for
young Bates. we get all white (and our lungs dusty).

on the way to and from the work site I read
in Silent Spring, the chapter against herbicides, gathering
inspiration for the upcoming controversy. in the end
perhaps I'll be fired for refusing to lay down Tordon
beads. realizing this, as I drive with Bates,
I see the dark green conifers and begin to miss them.

                              Rocks and rattlesnakes, bluebells
and mountain daisies, grasses and cactuses, mahogany
bush, lodgepole pine and quaking aspen, lush forest
and dry sun-tortured mountainside, wind and seed
carried by wind, ants, streams, hummingbird
and hawk, deer, badger, ground squirrel, wolverine.







Copyright © Robert Ronnow | Year Posted 2015


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Mockery

A nosegay is just a bunch of flowers 
The 'Gift' is a bunch of special powers
A day is just twenty-four hours
Lemons and limes are a pair of sours

A poem is a group of words that rhyme
(At least they do some of the time)
Larceny is just a petty crime
Dirt is just another name for grime

To come out on top is to be the best
To act the fool is to jape and jest
To badger and annoy is to be a pest
Taking a nap is taking much needed rest

To press lips together is to enjoy a kiss
To yearn for someone is to really miss
Trying to find the meaning in all of this
Is to realise I'm just taking the...... !!!


Copyright © Andy Morfett | Year Posted 2016


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Winter-Olympic Dreams

I've been watching too much Winter Olympics;
I dreamed  I was a figure skater last night.
I arrived in the arena like a skating swallow,
swirling round the ice with the swish of fencer's epee,
an Elizabethan-style codpiece harnessing
my ridiculously-enormous, lycra-wrapped manhood.
The audience was a screaming puppet on the
strings of my masterly, magnificent movements.

I attempted the most amazing, quintuple axel,
but, unfortunately, I eclipsed my opening routine,
overdid the power of the rotation,
and spun up into the rafters of the ice rink.
I was hanging precariously on a girder,
fifty feet above the ice, clinging on like a baby monkey.
And things got worse: my codpiece had been torn off
by the centrifugal force of my over-cooked axel.

The crowd was going crazy as they shouted.
'See the magnificent skater, up in the rafters!
The beast has been released!'
Released? It was swaying around like a badger in a sack!
I shouted,' Never mind my wedding tackle, get me down!
I'm not really an ice skater, it was a fluke!
NOW! Will someone just get me down from here?
And stop throwing those ridiculous, stuffed animals
onto the ice, you stupid, bloody eejits!'

I was never so happy to wake up. Thank you mister
that I never dreamed that I was careering, at 80mph
down an iced flume, head-first on a tray!



Copyright © Jonathan French | Year Posted 2018


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The Mariner

The Mariner's old salted-air skin,  leather tight,
on a mast-hard frame of bones
and flash flood rushing blood,
faces ice-fed winds bouncing his ship
and helm cockeyed on continuous curling waves
from Nature's rough hewn seas,
beneath skunk-colored skies

Standing redwood tall,
in a locked jawed face of stormy, screaming weather
with honey badger determination,
to fight for the aging breath and life of his vessel,
of foot worn,handmade English Oak,
in a lion and hyena fight with the storm
Hoping the molten core of flaming,fiery light from the sun,
bursts through volcanic ashen clouds,
leaving his still sided barnacle plugged wormwood planks attached,
until he reaches shore

4/25/17 contest Word Play Images, Dense and Pithy


Copyright © Frederic Parker | Year Posted 2017


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A Little Alliteration

A little alliteration by a long shot speaks so loud.
Metaphors muddle my mind
And silly similes stymie the sentence.
A terrible trope takes too much of my time
g Tiberius is my tag and title
My nom de plume is a personal platitude personified
Better *****es badger me with their bared bosoms
A curious cacophony controls my cochlea
Demanding drugs and daffodils
Eventually ephemeral earth will evince my effervescence
Freakin' phantom fear will  appear
Had enough, Harry?
Or do you just ejaculate jocularity?
O K - I'll specially spare you the shroud of St. Sebastien 
And  say Adios, amigo; ta ta to you, see ya, Zebra; good-by, sweety-pie
So long saintly Samuel, take care, Virginia Dare
And that's the way it is, my miz
Amen and au-revoire.




Copyright © gary thomas | Year Posted 2013


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Mrs Muppet

Mrs Moppet decided to go to the beach
as it was such a sunny day.
Loading up her car with kids and picnic
they set off singing as they went.
The road was long and very twisty
and half way there with a loud noise
the car groaned to a halt.
Oh my said Mrs Muppet as clouds of
smoke rose up from the hood.
Luckily Mr Squirrel was passing by
he knew a thing or two about cars.
I will tow you to the garage he said
your rad pipe has a leak.
At the garage Mr Fix-it soon 
had things back to rights.
So off they set, the kids singing again
and soon the sea was in sight.
They parked on the beach a-mid dunes
and the kids hopped off to play.
Not too far called Mrs Moppet setting
out the rugs and towels.
She set out the salad sandwiches,
and carrot cake a firm favourite.
From down the beach came a cry
Biily Muppet had got stuck between two rocks
Mrs Muppet tugged and tugged no way
could she get him free and the tide was coming in.
Bertie Badger seeing their plight came to help
and in the nick of time they pulled Billy free.
Time for food said Mrs Muppet inviting Bertie
to join them, just as they were tucking in up
blew a sand storm, burrow in and wait it out
it will soon pass and it did but the heavens opened
and down poured the rain soaking all the food.
Oh my said Mrs Muppet what else can go wrong?
Just then the rain stopped and out came the sun
only drinks left the food is ruined said Mrs Muppet
as a strong gust of wind carried off her grass hat
and her skirts blew up around her ears.
Brick-red in face she tugged them down quickly
lets go home moaned the kids this is no fun.
Packing everything up they set off for home  
But fate was not yet done with them and
soon the car started started to buck along
Whatever now, oh no, we have a flat tyre
Mrs Muppet struggled hard to change the wheel
but could not remove one of the nuts.
It was growing dark and they were stuck
in the middle of nowhere. The kids huddled
close feeling scared as strange rustles  and weird
noises filled the night air.
We may be here all night, said Mrs Muppet, lay
out the rugs and try to sleep.
The children settled down but found it too eerie,
weird noises surrounded the car.
Then came a tappety tap on the window
making them all jump. Who is it? wavered
Mrs Muppet. No need to fear it is only me
said Randy Rabbit, do you need some help?
Oh yes please Randy my tyre is flat and a nut
is stuck fast. No problem, said Randy I will sort it out
and setting to work he soon had it fixed.
Thank you, thank they all chanted and Mrs Muppet
invited Randy home for some dinner.
Arriving home she soon set out a tasty meal
and they all tucked in heartily.
Well now I am sure you can guess the rest,
they fell in love, married and eight weeks later
six tiny baby rabbits were born.
Which just goes to show every cloud 
does have a silver lining.


Copyright © Shadow Hamilton | Year Posted 2014


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My Uncle Gladys

Have you heard about my renowned uncle, Gladys
Who by sexual makeup had an Aunt’s status.

Well, he or she, you can use whatever you want;
Like I just said, this uncle is loosely an aunt.

Anyways, she had to remove all her mirrors,
Since she said, each of them made too many errors.

She claimed that they never reflected her splendor;
While we thought, they couldn’t decide on a gender.

In any case, she seemed a hallucination,
But Aunty was more of an amalgamation.

And if you dared to ask most people’s opinion,
They’d say she was pieced from the animal kingdom.

She smiled like a jackal and grinned like a badger,
And her lips resembled those of a fly catcher.

Her frizzy head of hair, was pin-striped like a skunk’s,
And her mammoth nose swung like an elephant’s trunk.

Her eyes were as piercing as that of a boa,
Or any old reptile collected by Noah.

We played with her sideburns that were like Wolverines’,
Although our moms made sure we got extra vaccines

See, Gladys had kindness in a strong manly way,
With her big old bear hug that could crush a Steinway.

We must admit, Gladys had some fine attributes,
That may show up some day in oddball film tributes.

To be shown nationwide for the weird and plucky,
But my cousins and I would still think it’s yucky.

Anyhow, it’s time to stop picking on Gladys,
By switching over to her only son, Alice.  

David Fisher, 11/22/14, iambic hexameter,
For Giorgio's contest


Copyright © David Fisher | Year Posted 2014


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This World of Dew

I see a green tree. It is all I want.
A dry rocky mountain and a hawk
satisfy. To die spiritually in
the hot sun and the body go on
climbing. To take the paths among
the rocks and mahogany bush.
To feed on rock lichen and blue
sky. To not need a house.

To leave my mind in the foothills.
To climb everything but blind. In
the deer shade of the cool aspens.
Forgotten by the work force and the shrew.
Bored as a badger disturbed at
its stream. Free singing as the stream
cutting the gorge. Cool as a hummingbird
in its wet spray. Caterpillar fur.

I stay in the mountains unknown.
The roof soot of the city calls me back.
The museum women shaking their bodies
at the stuffed tigers. The meditating
curators and entrepreneurs. Burro.

                  *                  *                  *

Old Basho, early Spring, took fond leave of his friends,
closed his small house at edge of village,
and with one peasant companion climbed the long narrow road to
      the North.

Blessed morning!
      the day I left life behind
            but not this world of dew.







Copyright © Robert Ronnow | Year Posted 2015


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Bully Me This, Bully Me That , Who's Afraid

http://www.Bully Me This, Bully Me That 
Who's Afraid of the undercover  surveillance, informing, informational 
informant, cool, low, down, dirty, Cat 

why he has all the power and would never lie 
that's why he's able to use the law 
to  badger me (harass : to exhaust an enemy by attacking repeatedly)
and fix it so i will die 
where is the right and the wrong of my government 
its seem to be all gone 
or was it never there 

why his game is so smooth, and yet so mean 
you'd think, your the one 
whit (with) a pocket full of dreams   
but its not you mind full of colors 
that he wants 
its, the control of the  mental
to make you want, what he 
wants you to want 
buy, sell, cheat, and lie 
or eat and die 
 
So whats, that got to do with you? 
its time for you, to protect you, and figure it out...
or the next generation will 
make many men rich, beyond rich... 

PS... which way is just-us (more like just me!) poetrysoup.com/member_area/submit_poems.aspx


Copyright © verlecia fields | Year Posted 2013


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Phobia's

     Phobias
	A Bluto is not that Disney dog
	It was when a mewling 
	that I would scream 
	Should they wet my body
	And then apply cream
	
	Ablutophobia – fear of bathing, washing, or cleaning
	
	Achluo the demon that lurks
	In darkened corners
	The long toothed life suckers realm
	I am scared as the sun dims
	It seems to bare my soul
	
	Achluophobia – fear of darkness
	Acro what did they do 
	They called me acrobat 
	This will not do
	I get giddy standing on a matchbox
	Please get a net to see me through
	Acrophobia – fear of heights

	
	Agora just shut that door 
	I am staying here forever more
	Bring me food put it on the floor
	The letter box is just for you
	Don’t, Don’t,  try to get through
	
	Agoraphobia,  Fear of open spaces or of being in public places. Fear of leaving a                    safe place
	Agrap stole my feelings 
	He caught me unaware
	I am now afraid of sex 
	don’t ask me anymore
	It frightens me that’s for sure
	
	Agraphobia – fear of sexual abuse

	Agrizoo an angry gorilla I knew
	Wild as hell was kept in a cell
	As all his kind, even a timid Hind
	They scare the crap out of me
	Please let them run free

	Agrizoophobia – fear of wild animals

	A gyro is just what I need
	I will fit it to my trusty stead
	He will fly straight across that band
	A tarmac nasty throughout the land
	I cannot face the walk you see
	Agyrophobia –fear of crossing the road

	Aichmohe got in a hell of a fight
	They killed him with a pointed knife
	It will come for me just you see
	I cannot even mend his cloth
	Won’t  touch a needle at any cost
	
	Aichmophobia – fear of sharp or pointed objects (such as a needle or knife)
	

	Ailuro he lived next door 
	The bastard sits on the fence
	To me he snarls not a purr
	A Persian he is supposed to be
	Frightens the *****out of me
	
	Ailurophobia – fear of cats
	
	Algo, Away, I am pain free
	This morphine is the best
	First day of pain free rest
	Been told that it will return
	Got some gas, peace I yearn
	
	
	Algophobia - fear of pain

	Andro I’d rather be               (android)
	I am metal and plastic you see
	Electric person not man or woman
	That would be so sad
	If just a man I would go mad

	Androphobia – fear of men

	Antho the pologist got the plan
	He put concrete throughout the land.
	Not one shrub or flower seen
	Not one blade of grass green
	A flower would make me scream

	Anthophobia – fear of flowers


	Anthropo was a lonely man
	Wouldn’t mix with others so
	He lived in a cave, well just a hole
	You would see his eyes peeping out
	A shaking frame if people were about
	
	Anthropophobia – fear of people or the company of people, a form of social phobia.

	Aqua marine or even the wet stuff
	Is enough to drive me mad
	I stay in when there is rain
	Just wait for the sun to shine again
	A damp tissue that’s quite enough

	Aquaphobia – fear of water. Distinct from Hydrophobia, a scientific property that makes chemicals averse to interaction with water, as well as an archaic name for rabies

	Arach no, and know the score
	Those creepy creatures on the wall
	Send shivers up and down my spine
	Six legs and venom to drive you mad
	I am running already it is sad.

	Arachnophobia – fear of spiders


	Astra my name you would think of the stars
	My gaze goes up but not that far
	To the first cloud there in the sky
	If it’s the shape of an anvil I will fly 
	Fear grips me and I don’t know why
	
	Astraphobia – fear of thunder and lightning
	Atychi that was about the size of me
	The others would just make fun
	I was no good to anyone
	A failure of the first degree
	Nothing my goal, was all I could see
	
	Atychiphobia – fear of failure

	Auto matic I will seek people out
	To touch to play as long as they are near
	Don’t leave me in this place alone 
        A singularity is my biggest fear
	I will hold anyone you see I care

	Autophobia – fear of being alone or isolated
	
	Automat o no it’s not true how could you
	An advert that’s telling just lies
	Don’t all the others realize
	What you say is not true, put it right 
	It will drive me crazy I’ll keep out of sight
	
	Automatonophobia – fear of anything that falsely represents a sentient being

	Aviat o if you think I am going in that
	No I am not a scared ***** cat
	If we were meant to go fly
	Wings we would have from him on high
	Fold your machine and put it just so.
	
	Aviophobia, Aviatophobia – fear of flying
	
	
	
	
	Chaeto he was a Greek of old
	Bald as a badger so the story is told
	But why you say is there no cure 
	For him to grow some lovely hair
	For him it would give such a scare

	Chaetophobia – fear of hair

	Chemo therapy keep away from me
	Chemicals scare me I know they are free
	But to have them coursing through my veins
	No matter how good they are, and that jar
	The fear of everything for what they are 

	Chemophobia – fear of chemicals

	Chirop to or not too so I am told
	They stick in your hair best to be bald
	Now I find that my nails are made of hair
	Chirop is what I fear not chiropodist is that clear!!
	Just shave my head and cut my nails dear

	
	Chiroptophobia – fear of bats

	Chromo shines bright in my eyes
	The fear of all colours  I realise
	Now I am safe from a troubled day
	Into my dark room, I have found my way
	Knock when that sun has met its demise

	Chromophobia - fear of bright colors


Copyright © Ian Howard | Year Posted 2012


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Tell me why

I can smell cherry blossom 
but the tree's are bare
I can hear birds singing 
but there's only an aeroplane in the air
I can see fish swimming
but the river is lifeless and grey
Now there is a sewage plant
Where the signets used to play.

I can hear mowing 
but its artificial grass
I thought I saw a tiger
but its an exhibit behind glass.
Where once I saw a badger
Caring for her brood
All I see now are discarded plastic plates
of processed food .

Tell me why
Please tell me why .

The world is polluted 
but there is profit to be made 
Chopping down rainforests 
Denying animals food and shade.
We know we need the oxygen 
Those tree's provide
but in the interests of making money
That can be denied .

We see the devastation 
Caused by tidal wave 
but we are planning our next million
As the dead are lowered in their graves.
We protest loudly 
When animals are killed for their ivory
But those making the money 
are not in jail I see.

Tell me why
Please tell me why .

When the greedy have made their money
We'll have them to thank 
That the fossil of mother nature
Is held inside a bank .
Will the only nature of the future
Be seen in a faded photograph
Or will those replica plastic animals made in China
Incur our children's wrath.

It is our kids who will inherit
The world we leave behind 
let us leave them a future 
Fit for all of mankind 
Pass a thing of beauty 
Into our children's care 
We can do that if we care for each other
and the world we share.







Copyright © DARREN WATSON | Year Posted 2014


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THE DACHSHUND

My name is Franz Ferdinand
I’m a Dachshund not a band!
I come in coats 1,2 and 3
2 sizes - standard and mini
My coats are smooth or wire or long
Short on legs, my back’s not strong
but take me to a badger hill,
 I’ll dig and dig and won’t stop till
I do the job that must be done 
And get those badgers on the run.


Copyright © ANGELA BYRNE | Year Posted 2008


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Come Out and Play, you Creatures of the Night

Come out and play, you creatures of the night. Outside into the woods I want to go and see a white tailed deer, a sheer delight to catch sight of a doe in moon’s soft glow. I want to glimpse a badger or raccoon. Come out and play, you creatures of the night while in the background, crickets chirp their tune, and lightning bugs flash signals small and bright. To spy a wolf, I’d feel a bit of fright, especially if it were to start to howl! Come out and play, you creatures of the night. But not you wolves! I’d rather spot an owl! Oh, yes, an owl would please me to no end - one wide awake like me and snowy white! Perhaps I’d make of him my new best friend. Come out and play, you creatures of the night. Written May 22, 2016 for C T's The sun is out Poetry Contest


Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2016


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A Little Alliteration: A Collaboration with Gary Thomas

Form: Alliteration
A little alliteration by a long shot speaks so loud.
Metaphors muddle my mind
And silly similes stymie the sentence.
A terrible trope takes too much of my time
g Tiberius is my tag and title
My nom de plume is a personal platitude personified
Better *****es badger me with their bared bosoms
A curious cacophony controls my cochlea
Demanding drugs and daffodils
Eventually ephemeral earth will evince my effervescence
Freakin' phantom fear will appear
Had enough, Harry?
Or do you just ejaculate jocularity?
O K - I'll specially spare you the shroud of St. Sebastien
And say Adios, amigo; ta ta to you, see ya, Zebra; good-by, sweety-pie
So long saintly Samuel, take care, Virginia Dare
And that's the way it is, my miz
Amen and au-revoire.
First sky says, Toth faced the reptiles
Just go back and read the tiles
Forever written laid before your eye
The story goes on for miles
Forward to the time of the snake
This is when the story becomes fake
See eye becomes quicker than hand
Now then thee earth really did shake
Ushering the coming of a lamb
This was the time of the Ram
The establishing of the law
A dividing between you and Sam
Now jumping to the time of the fish
The next step in answering your wish
Love each other as you love yourself
Soon they will arise in dish
Heard from the cry of the guns
Entered we have the time of the one
Whosoever can hear me and see me will
Hit the game winning home run grand slam


Copyright © Steven Henderson | Year Posted 2016


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THE SUPERSTITIOUS GAMBLER

Fate knocked me down with two balled fists
robbed me of all with evil twists
disabled and a mass of pain
and left with naught of lifetime’s gain

Rock-hard times hit, no friend in sight
no-one to share my sorry plight
cash ebbed and dwindled at fast pace
starvation hence was what I faced

Disturbing thoughts kept creeping in
e’er prompting:  try your greatest sin
compulsion tore apart my soul
just one last time; might reach my goal

Pep-talked  myself: don’t be a fool
to challenge Fate without your tools
addicted gambler to the core
slowly my hopes began to soar

With quickened step I pack my load
dead rabbit’s foot and ear of toad
two badger teeth, balls of live bull 
a multi-coloured skein of wool

And last a gift from one enthroned
most prized, a yellow opal stone
gained courage with a swig of rum 
watch out casino, here we come

I settle in, touch wood of chair
and deftly yank one lock of hair
I line up all my lucky charms
for further luck pinch left-side arm

I moist my lips, give one deep sigh
my opal stone winks back, a-fire 
strong presence in my orb I feel
sense Lady Luck spinning her wheel

Still certain I will bear no loss
I rub each coin twixt fingers crossed
the greedy slot accepts them keen
I close my eyes, spell L-U-C-K-Y B-E-A-N

Incensed, I pull the lever down
the gong rings down with loud resound
a rapid blink, open-mouthed stare
I've just become a millionaire!!!


Copyright © delysia hendricks | Year Posted 2011


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The human league

The 80's electronic band
The Human League
Came from Sheffield England
My home town
Phil Oakey
The lead singer
Had his hair short on one side
The over long hanging down.

He met the two girl singers
Who were dancing
In the crazy Daisy pub
He liked what he saw
and singed them up 
To go on tour.

Such hits as 'Being boiled'
'Mirror man'
'Don't you want me''
And''The sound of the crowd'
Were played in many clubs and bars
Often loud.

He is one of the reasons I play synthesizers
Myself today
Now bald as a badger
His famous long locks gone
But he still writes
And can still sing a song.



Other local bands, Def leopard, Heaven 17, ABC ,Pulp, Artric monkeys,
Jarvis cocker, Joe cocker, Richard Hawley,
Living in a box, Baby bird, Paul Carrick, Tony Christie. Rev and the Makers, and many others.





Peter Dome.copyright.2014. march.


Copyright © Peter Dome | Year Posted 2014


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The Grand National

> What can I say that is good.
About jumping horses over high brush wood.

Wish I could think of something nice.
Sorry can't if I had all night. 

Horses were transport in days of old.
Many perished in two World  Wars be told.

I worked with them for a while.
Was in the RAVC

In days of, not so old, horses of the military.
Stood far taller did than me.

So do those Grand National Jumps,
Their sight gives me the hump.

Horses running, I'm OK with that.
Even with a jockey on sat.

But over Grand National jumps of Brushwood high.
I would never ask a horse to do that, in case it dies. 

You see I think that is so cruel.
Using as horse as a tool.

Just to win a cup and cash.
When all horse might get.

Is all a bowl of lukewarm bran mash,
Of course to the horse , no use  is cash.

As across the water it might dash.
Not the bran, but the cash.

As overseas it will pay no tax.
Now I've aid that perhaps I can relax.

Unlike those horses who over those jumps did dash.
Sweating, frothing at their mouth, trying to spit that metal; bit out.
gasping for breath , what's that all about?

Horses are like the Badger and Fox.
Got four legs, but no human voice box.

So they cannot protest to you.
That's something some of us humans do.

Those who try to protect our animals, do you?

Taken from Poems. Some happy, some sad,  some to make you glad Book 9  Books: www.feedaread.com?>aff=6463<


Copyright © STANLEY Harris | Year Posted 2016


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The Ballad of the Bachelor Beekeeper

The Mutaitho hill zigzags its way to the borderlines of the sky
And to the opposite poses the historic Muilu hill once a shrine;
Now there between slithers the Kimongo River where huge rocks lie;
It’s on the banks of this river where the bachelor beekeeper lives.

His bald head is not worthy a ballad 
Nor are his words so many to deserve a hoot,
It is his bee keeping zeal that stirs your blood;
An enterprise he’s run for years thirty and three.

And don’t think of the sophisticated box hives
Where you ferry the insects and lock them in,
He fells a log and hollows it all with his knives,
Till a home for bees he fashions there.

Not the low-lying things folks call hives,
Well-smoothed wooden objects lodged up the twigs
Of the most slippery trees with leaves like chives
Where no cunning badger would ever dare venture.

And he does his seasonal harvesting in the dead of the night,
While softer men curl to listen to the snores of their wives;
A night traveler will see his hairless head reflect the moonlight  
And think they’ve spotted the nightly escapades of a ghost.

Now why he remains a bachelor at sixty and three
Is a secret only known to his beekeeping mind,
Perhaps nothing charms him more than a flourishing hive,
Perchance no girl would enchant more than the honeyed bee.


Copyright © Hannington Mumo | Year Posted 2015


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Volcano

I stand alone at the peak of a forest.
Birds sour, winds blow, beasts pass, but no one bothers me.
As you see me now, 
I am no threat, dorment, you say I am.
I watch you all, day and night, I see you.
I see you, see me, 
I am only an arid mountain, you say I am.

Alas, one day an explorer comes,
Instead of him to search for the last Ornithopod, 
Or to sit and listen for the rare leaf warblers,
He will come and badger me with jabber while he works his way to my crater, 
I see you, see me,
As you see me now,
I am no threat, dorment, you say I am.

Did you not see me alone and happy?
I warn you to retreat and leave me be,
Still, you hasten as you ignore my earnest plea.
I send rocks, I send dust, to divert your path,
Yet, my action interests you, you’re approaching fast,
You intend to enter, and I disapprove of your motives,
Explorer retreat! I am not what you say I am!

I am a conical being, introverted,
Each step you take towards the top,
The closer the kettle simmers to boiling point,
I warned you to stay back, now watch me erupt,
Your bones mould into rock fragments, 
Whilst the last of your cries are absorbed in my lava,
The ash of your flesh, fused with my laughter.

Then I’ll return to my former stance,
As you see me now,
I am no threat, “dorment”, you say I am.


Copyright © REGINA OLADIPO | Year Posted 2013


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I Took the Dare

There were Indians just over the Brazos
With a buffalo herd in between
They weren’t trying to stay hidden 
They wanted to be seen
The chief of these Comanche
Buffalo Hump by name
They say no one's looked him in the eyes
Was ever quite the same
The COL said go parlay
Invite the chief to sup
I want to look him in the eye
And determine just what’s up

With our white sheet fluttering in the wind
Like the scalps on the big Chief’s lance
We started out across the plain
Taking quite a chance
Our crooked-tooth Pawnee scout
Led the way through the herd
Through the smell of a thousand animals
And the sound that would drown each word
I felt and smelled their hot breath
As I rode my pony near
I turned my pony into the throng
A pathway none too clear
Inching through the buffalo
Blinded by the dust
I held on fast to the reins
Just riding my pony's trust

Once through the thundering buffalo
I glanced up to the rise
The Indians still were waiting there
Much to my surprise
The Pawnee scout then turned to us
Said if they should attack
First take out the big chief
Then that little one in the back
I can understand the big chief
But why the little guy
He said he’s like a badger
He’ll fight until he dies
He said that one's a horse thief
The best you'll ever find
He'll snatch a horse from under you
As if you had gone blind

The big chief started towards us
Shut up the Pawnee said
You young boys keep your damn traps shut
I’ll do the talking instead
The Comanche’s body shone with grease
Had a necklace made of claws
He had a stench about him
That made you gag and pause
My eyes met the chief’s eyes
My hand rested on my gun
He had a look could kill a soul
But I was too scared to run
The Pawnee and Comanche
Spoke in some foreign tongue
I vowed to learn their language
While I was still young

Then all at once the chief turned
And rode on up the hill
Our Pawnee scout turned back for camp
But I just sat there still
For he had pointed at me
With that scalp encrusted lance
And said he’d have MY scalp one day
If he ever got the chance
For last week on the Brazos
Someone had killed his son
And looking me right in the eye
He knew I was the one

Mdailey	2/26/12

1st place finish in contest

For PD’s contest dare.  Chapter 11 of Dead Man's Walk by Larry McMurtry.  It has been years since I read a western but am finding this one interesting.


Copyright © mike dailey | Year Posted 2012


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My First Pet

Tiny was my first pet and the very same age as I.
With no concept then of life or death, I had no thought she’d die.

A  shorthaired, fox terrier dog, with black spots on coat of white,
she was with me when I learned to walk and stayed with me day and night.

Her breed was bred for ground hunting, all badgers need beware.
She’d dig her way into their dens and trap them in their lair.

I didn’t want her hunting them, but she would disobey.
Daddy told me not to blame her, it was just her terrier way.

She would wait for me so patiently when I spent my time in school,
and greet me with a furious wag, so happy she would drool.

And so it went for thirteen years. She was my little pal.
She loved all of the family, but I was her special gal.

She became deaf in her old age, although I didn’t know it.
She was so good at reading minds, she truly didn’t show it.

One day she wandered on the road and didn’t hear the car 
that in  younger years she would have heard when coming from afar.

I missed my special little friend, and long and hard I cried.
That I'd lost a part of my young life, simply could not be denied.

We buried her there on the old farm where in life she liked to roam
and every badger thereabouts was safer in his home.

Since then I have had many dogs and though I loved the rest,
since Tiny was my very first, perhaps I loved her best.

.





Copyright © Joyce Johnson | Year Posted 2011