Best Cooped Poems
God told old Noah to build an ark,
To make it out of gopher bark.
Noah did as he was asked,
And worked until he completed the task.
Then God told Noah to gather the beasts,
Two of every kind, the hes and the shes,
So that when the earth is dry again,
They can procreate, new life begin.
All the animals were good, except for the rabbits.
Though small and cute, they had some bad habits.
Quiet and stealthy, they would roam around,
Hiding in dark corners where they weren't easily found.
You might be wondering how bunnies could be bad,
But you need to remember the reputation they have.
Hiding in the shadows, what do you think they're doing?
They're not playing hop scotch - they're cuddling and wooing.
Now cuddling and wooing isn't such a bad thing,
But rabbits are known for quickly multiplying.
Though Noah tried to keep the bunnies apart,
He was no match for their affairs of the heart.
So when it came time, the ark to depart,
The animals came out two by two like the start.
Two by two they strolled off the ark,
After being cooped up, getting out was a lark.
But then came the rabbits and to Noah's dismay,
Not two but hundreds were coming his way.
Then the Lord told them all to be fruitful and multiply.
Noah looked at the rabbits and let out a sigh.
6/11/13
Entered in PD's 101 in a row contest #5
Sam the Cat I am
I'm a boy cat and my name is Sam
People tell me how lovely I am
Perhaps they're right, I am sort of cute
Guess it’s down to my shiny smart suit.
I love to wander when I’m outdoor
Wildlife to stalk, places to explore
Must return home eventually
Especially when it's time for tea.
I feel sad for my neighbour Kitty
Always stuck indoors, what a pity
Watching me play from the window ledge
Why doesn't she come out and stretch her legs.
She watches me running wild and free
Chasing the birds that fly from the tree
Whatever is it, why should it be
Kitty won't come out to play with me.
Heard the folk who own her saying that
Kitty is afraid of mice and rats
That seems so odd and strange to me
Cooped up and never to roam freely.
Kitty has a coat of copper fur
No one was ever as sweet as her
Huge amber eyes alike almond drops
That send my heart a flip-pity-flop.
I pray for Kitty to play outside
For her to roam round the countryside
Being together the whole day through
Many a prank two of us could do.
Chasing butterflies, the birds and bees
Super-charged squirrels who run at speed
There's plenty of field mice we would tease
As a duo we'd do it with ease.
If I were given luck and the chance
We two could be enjoying romance
Beneath moon and silvery starlight
"Kitty, come out and start living life."
8th August 2021
birds of a quill, or a feather
flock together at odd times
from all four corners
of thinking creative
to jostle with keyboards,
pens and sharp pencils
fingers fidget, tap-tapping
frantic scribbling down
in notebook's lined pages
screens and keyboards
prepare for posting
all that flutters in skulls
staring blank-eyed into spaces
behind temples hot throbbing
turns tensile to tactile
steely minds become strings
unhinged yet synaptic
as typists happily fly
out of the window
out doing much undoing
with words, concrete stacks
of thoughts buried in letters
homing in on ideas is noted
by fraught-filled grey matters
e-motions will ruffle, jostle, shuffle
trying to find their feet
on narrow high perches
no one cooped up again
in confounded wired places
safety in numbers protects
from eagle-eyed predation
teeming teams have no trepidation
preening each other
pecking order in order
while who's who is related
faithful fair friends love being updated
lovebirds are word-cooing
with beak-kissing nibbles
some of us like darkness
it brings poets together
winter hibernation in torpor
taking wing in springing up ether
fancy that take off?
it's what we are made of....
all that really matters
when feathers start flying
is the daylight between them
caused not by division
but the tight act of trying
to avoid mid-air collision!
13/10/2018
Poets need poets....enough "space" for all of us!
Bright yellow badges proclaimed their faith
Paraded like nameless cattle
Counted and cooped as poultry
Numb and gelid they lay
Only thing alive
Was A desire
For a smooth
Kiss of
Death
Written On:04/24/2017
Contest:'Form N' by Broken Wings
People pass in t-shirts
Or with jackets draped or tied,
Enjoying springtime weather
After being cooped inside.
Daffodils have poked their heads
And crocuses as well.
Still, the message isn’t reaching
Where my brain cells dwell.
For I am zipped up to my neck
With jeans and socks below,
Not ready to relinquish
Jacket weather, even though…
I’m sure that I will soon enough –
Perhaps next week I may,
But all I know is that for me,
It will not be today.
This is a story of sharing. This is a story of caring for one another and placing other's needs above our own.
Once upon a time there were two gerbils in a gerbil cage. One gerbil said to the other gerbil, “Hey, wanna go for a stroll on the wheel?”
The other gerbil replied merrily, “Nah. You go first because you haven’t run for quite a while.”
The first gerbil hopped on the wheel and began to run and run and run until he couldn’t run any more. He even became dizzy and almost fell off the wheel. He was so excited to get some good old fashioned rodent exercise, but he just didn't know when enough was enough. Finally he hopped off the wheel and took a rest for a while.
Soon after that the owner of the gerbils came over and said, “HI! “
“How are you two fellas doing in there today?” said the owner with a happy grin.
The two gerbils looked up at him and decided to run on the wheel again just to say thanks to the young boy for taking such good care of them.
The second gerbil hopped up on the wheel first and then after two minutes decided to take a break. Then the first gerbil began to jog merrily on the wheel again. It was like gerbil heaven in the cage and the two friends continued to take turns all throughout the day. They even helped each other take turns at the water container too.
The young boy who owned the gerbils wondered what it was like to be a gerbil as he sat there most of the afternoon. He wondered if he could survive all cooped up in a glass cage too.
There is a moral to this story. There really is!
The moral is you never know what you are getting yourself into when you live in a gerbil cage.
The second moral is that even in the smallest environments you can learn to live in harmony with one another and peace can prevail. It takes effort and it takes a BIG HEART too!
Gwendolen Rix
4-11-15
[email protected]
By Cherbo Geeplay
It rains so much in Monrovia that a
day is like the bloated dough on a
grey earthly May, washing over October.
My love, the sun, hides in her bright den
refusing to be seen. Life comes to a slow
twiggy motion; the forest is breathing
with moisture, like a hut puffing smoke as
a pipe. While the creeks bridged their ledges,
there is a seismic run-down Waterside!
Enough, no more, the sewage can take!
She is in my arms, listening to the music
pounding the roof. Still, calm, reading
Ebony Dust, though, with lightning bolts
yelling to be heard.
The clatter is like
a rumble---tumbling falling rockets.
The sorry corrugated zinc holds her
seams, the bed is dry, but the room
is a puddle.
The city is
cramp and damp, like a soaked
sponge dripping with water. The
hustling contested old city in an
evening fog, the Mesurado in
a bulge, taking Fanti fishermen
to and fro,
to the edge of Westpoint.
To love in the midst of mists,
of raging thunder under your ears
and an air filled with blithering vermin,
is to drink a linctus in anger, cooped in
wretched penury. So when the wait,
cannot wait to be over, you my love
must endure, waiting to part with the
wrath the rains imposed, much needed
however, to calm the California wildfires,
gifted on these shores, for
free. Now: you
understand, then,
the irony of nature!
_____
Copyright 2018, Adelaide Literary Magazine, New York
He was a prisoner for life
cooped in a cell of human bones.
An unseemly brain had plagued him
and love was not to speak its name.
Rarely a smile was ever seen
or a pleasant song ever sung.
His heart beat just to stay alive,
his thoughts not shared with anyone.
Life’s woes made not the man this way
nor playact in some masquerade.
He was innately born this way
and died, it’s sad to say that way.
At his wake there were no others
only me, his loving brother.
Okay I am going to write a funny poem to cheer everybody up
Because it's gloomy and cloudy over here
Does the sky mirror your feelings?
I hope not because you are going to be cloudy, downcast, dark, and thunderous
Who wants that?
Do you feel you are hibernating?
Just remember to come out
Spring is around the corner
Maybe that's the reason why my co-workers have so many baby showers
All cooped up inside and nothing to do lol
We just love any reasons to celebrate
I think they should have more national holidays
People should be forced to take a holiday
We don't take one ourselves
We work too much
Let's kick us out of here
We work too darn much
I am considering taking up coffee
Why? Because I just like the Keurig machine
It's tempting - those little Q-cups
Ahh those pros and cons
I will see how they win
I may end up chugging a little mug with me in my car
Like those coffee junkies
That have to have a cup of coffee before the day starts
My day starts now!
So I'll see
Okay that's it for now
I will leave you with some thoughts
Are you yay or are you nay?
For you or against you?
Win or no win?
King or queen?
Haha not the last one
I think you know that one
But you can be king or queen for a day
Have you heard that one?
How about everyday?
Now you are talking!
Chao
No 8 second ride for these cowboys tonight
As they start in the morning, losing daylight
Their hats are now ties, tethering true
Not breathing in clean air as faces turn blue
Their motive, the green, but not of a pasture
Not men of free will, but now slaves to a master
When the bell rings, it’s chaos, not for a meal
It’s a dog eat dog city, with true faces concealed
They’re just…
Cardboard cowboys in a concrete canyon
Riding steel horses, reigning in their abandon
Letting loose bridles, for no horses they ride
Spending their days, cooped up, deep inside
It’s a sad way
And a sad day
For New York cowboys
Their fishing hole yonder’s now polluted with clutter
As their southern boy drawl’s replaced with a stutter
No chaps and no stirrups, no boots and no jeans
Their lives are now over, at the end of their means
The bull that they ride are the very stories they tell
From wall to wall bouncing, not sitting a spell
They are always in a hurry, no time for the rose
Not much of a cowboy or anything, I s’pose
They’re just…
Cardboard cowboys in a concrete canyon
Riding steel horses, reigning in their abandon
Letting loose bridles, for no horses they ride
Spending their days, cooped up, deep inside
It’s a sad way
And a sad day
For New York cowboys
Cold day?
I am not fazed or dazed By
Winter’s fast approach because In such cold days
I just indulge in the comfort of Clinging onto my curvaceous wife’s gorgeous Cleavage
It’s like mind over matter as Minutes turn to hours and hours into days
I mean, Under clean sheets as our bodies collide and slide ,
as we twist and turn , till we both get burnt like we are laying naked on the sun’s surface.
our hearts mingled as one in a body to body out of body experience it seems we fracture the space time displacement
because you see , indulging in such a pleasure would have you think and feel that two hours is actually just a second
For Men and women who are unified in marriage as I , winter is not to be feared ,
Coz you see, My wife’s tender loving care
Completely covers me like the luxurious fur of a polar bear
It is As though she’s Whispering kisses, when her soft lips make contact with my skin, they bring adrenalin driven warmth to my cold ears.
Ahm…
While others get dressed up / with Boots , coats , scuffs and gloves
We get cooped up
close our eyes and but open minds to new ways of love
ahm,
We conquered a cold day
With a much Coveted foreplay
Bongani Malete , Ronny Madonsela
03/03/2014
I’ve sailed across the oceans blue
In search of promised treasure
I need to bid my pirate’s life adieu
For some riches you cannot measure
When I was invited to be part of the team
I was told it was a luxury cruise
Promised riches beyond my wildest dreams
Oh how I fell for the blackguard’s ruse!
Captain Bluebeard is a real mean guy
He promised me diamonds and pearls
But I’m so homesick that I sit and cry
And I never get to meet any girls
I’m stuck on this ship with sweaty sailors
You can’t begin to imagine the smell
I feel like the captain’s our jailer
My life has become a living hell
I’ve got a peg leg and a metal hook
Life’s not that easy for me
I stumble round the galley as ship's cook
But I really don’t like life on the sea
My parrot is my constant companion
He nags me that I drink too much rum
I drink it for medicinal purposes
This sailing can upset my tum
I wish that he would hold his beak
I’m fed up of his constant squawking
Why can't he shut up and not speak
We’re cooped up and he just won’t stop talking
So now I need to take drastic action
Tonight I’m going to leap overboard
The parrot’s squawking can cause a distraction
I can swim … I’ve got a swimming award
I stole all the diamonds without exception
They are hidden inside my wooden leg
The captain’s yet to find out my deception..
But I’ve raided his hidden nest egg
So now I can live a life of pleasure
And enjoy a happier life
I will relax and enjoy my leisure
And find myself a cute wife!
Contest- A pirate’s life for me
Sponsor Kelly Deschler
09~19~15
Porthos Starshipbroken?
There was a dog on Enterprise
Whose smell T’Pol like to exorcise–
A beagle named Porthos,
On Capt. Archer’s bed, he would repose.
Where did Archer pick up this hound?
Did he get him from a futuristic pound
Where training was already acquired
So he would be starshipbroken as required?
It was left unexplained
And the audience never ascertained
How Archer did dispose
Of the poop from Porthos?
Would Archer find little gifts
After especially long duty shifts
From a pooch cooped in his quarter
Prompting a cleanup by transporter?
Would Porthos do like bad dogs
Leaving soft logs
On every deck
Entailing a crew shoe check?
Was the recycler used on his poo
To make it into a shoe?
Would you want to place your foot therein
Wondering what you’re stepping in?
When Archer gave cheesy snacks
Giving Porthos intestinal attacks
Who was blessed
With cleaning the mess?
Did Porthos have a litter box
Or did Archer give him hall walks?
All these questions here posed,
In Star Trek: Enterprise were not disclosed.
But lastly, there is one more complication
That I have considered with much consternation.
What really bothers me
Is where that poor dog did his wee?
Contest – Everyone Poops – Roy Jerden
07/29/15
Winter had us under its icy spell
As we shivered in the cold
We were cooped up as snowflakes fell
As the blizzard took hold
But now he slips through the icy cracks
As his frozen realm begins to melt
Spring has made her way back
The warmth of her breath is felt
Winter gives one last icy stare
As he slowly disappears
His reign has come to an end
And he vanishes around the bend
Spring wears a crown of green
As she spreads blossoms everywhere
She will now reign as queen
As nightingales sweet songs we hear
There came no blackbird to nest in your claw-hand,
Kevin, or fledge a brood strange and sun-shunned
as you in the cold, cooped, dirt and straw
strakes where you lay down in first abandon.
Awake at cock-crow, banty lullabied,
your wretched scratch of years in netted dark
appalled - appals.
Humanity denied is always local.
All you'd come to know was taken from you -
twice. They say you missed the feathery air
and turned your little ears to catch the coo
of pigeons on the roof. Can you despair?
The pity is, you never learned to play,
the mercy is, you never learned to pray.