Best Croaking Poems
Mystical Moon, languidly adrift in pallid glory,
is holding night court, clad in gold silk sarong.
Ruling her astral kingdom, amusing with a story
about a cow and a spoon; singing a lyrical song.
"Wondrous Moon," said I, "lamp unto this night,
may your lustrous path stay vigilant and not stray."
In comply, I saw strung on high, myriads of bright,
luminous stars, glinting down on a fishing quay.
Moonlight plays on lily pads, afloat on Amon Bay,
shining on croaking bullfrogs, just having fun,
bathing in nocturnal frolic until faint spark of day,
flirting with saucy winks and adding, "Hiya, Sun."
As morning draws nigh; moonlight slowly dims.
Luna will crown Sol at horizon's cusp of dawn.
Baronial is his warmth, but now my vision swims.
I'm drowning in a whirlpool, trying not to yawn.
Mystical moon will glow tonight with vivid pomp.
Again, donning a corona, flowing in auras of light.
As sunlight lulls, worn out from his daily romp,
I'll waltz in moonlight, among dazzling stars tonight.
July 16th, 2020
Lipogram Poem Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Emile Pinet
12 BARS
Twelve brazen bars, one frozen lock!
Confined, sublime, an ancient Roc
endures inside a barren cage,
her catacomb in sundown sage.
Of former days there is no trace
except displays of fallen grace –
Twelve dreams, abiding in her place,
are free, inhabit yawning space:
12 DREAMS
... of wings unfurled, and seething eyes
that dredge the depths of dawning skies,
divining clouds that cling below,
once ice, dissolved in morning’s glow;
... of clutching winds that carry free
above an anguished leaden sea,
dispersing dust of distant stars
midst chunks of chain in slave bazaars;
... of swooping to a silent shore
to perch beside the ocean’s roar,
at last to feel the sobbing breeze
message the leaves of rooted trees;
... of stalking strays and twilight tramps
within the fog of lighthouse lamps
that blink forlorn through caldron nights
in search of shades of errant Kites;
... of darkling vast deserted lands,
with shadowed stones on windswept sands,
where ghosts of Moorish maidens lost
disgorge faint groans in mourning frost;
... of blotting out the bloated moon
while feathers beat a banshee tune
and glimmers dance and prance aglow
upon a pearly pale plateau;
... of tasting cool torrential rains,
beyond the realm of binding reins,
and sipping freedom they exude
in quiet drops of solitude;
... of vanquishing a galley crew
aboard a ship of midnight dew,
beneath the pierce of seagulls' screams
that mock the strands of scarlet streams;
... of sating once an aching craw
with tearing beak, with ripping claw,
and echoed by an eldritch screech
while feasting on abandoned beach;
... of restive thoughts and weary wings
that drift on haze in smoky rings,
obscured within the opal shroud
of her resemblance in the crowd;
... of croaking caws in broken rhyme
in winter woe, in summer clime,
while building nests of sundown sage
beyond outside a barren cage.
Oh now sad frog located on the sandy beach
Emotions raging around the body as an Icelandic volcano
burning holds in a vice grips deeply
Stranded in the cemetery of broken hearts
It is as if parts of the heart where torn out
shreaded from the body without an anesthesia
Deep arrow strikes in Golden Sunshine beams
Maybe he worry for no reason
Warm thoughts sail faraway yonder
An endless sandy beach, white as snow
washed with the blue ocean in brilliant yellow sunlight
Singing dreams kissing lips hold an oasis close
She drinks his kiss as if one could never get enough
In the hot summer sun burning heart yearns
It does not matter what it is
or where it leads them
as long as it creates an inner glow
Singing sizzles relighting loves croaking flames
Infatuation may be coming - but volatile
ignites when paper lips hold tears prisoner
Positively resonated does not appear out of the blue
Falling salt seasoned spice
Trail seeking light
This is a powerful and invigorating moment
Jumping angry to paradise
Shedding the green shirt of a Queen
She was cold, but the sun stroked her
soft and warm over the cheeks
Written by L. Mcdaid & A-L Andresen :) 26.06.2015
Copyright © All Rights Reserved
I'm drifting along in a boat
In the shade of bald cypress trees
They're covered in gray Spanish moss
Hanging down to their cypress knees
With the swipe of a catfish tail
As he lunges to grab a snack
His splash breaks the afternoon silence
Minnows flee from the hungry attack
Turtles are sunning on an old fallen tree
Bullfrogs croaking for rain
The echoing cries of a lonely loon
As he pauses between refrains
At times escaping into nature
When life gets too extreme
I go back to the days of a country boy
To a boat, on a creek, in a dream
January 14 2017
by Daniel Turner
Her sounds are peaceful
symphonic and soothing
The chirping of the birds
at the crack of dawn,
the plopping of rain
pouring heavily at roof tops,
the humming of bees
as they move swiftly
flower to flower,
the rustling of the leaves
in a cool breezy evening,
the splashing of the stream
as it swerves through forest,
the burbling of the river
as it trickles through valleys,
the crackling of dead leaves
as you walk through it in fall,
the whistling of the wind
through the coconut tree tops,
the crashing of waves
against the rocks in the sea,
the croaking of distant frogs
in the stillness of night
As She sings in harmony
to the tunes composed by God
Date: 09/07/2021
"H" Contest, New Or Old Poems Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Constance La France
It'd been one of the most bizarre days; downright crazy
so I had a martini, maybe four, so things got kinda hazy
I fumbled in my wallet so I could pay my pricey bar tab
Friends thought I had too many, so they put me in a cab
I stumbled up the steps. It seems walking was a chore
Couldn't find my key, so I tried beating down the door
Her screeches of "Where the bloody hell have ya been?"
Pounded in my head, making me sorry that I'd come in.
She hissed, then off to the kitchen she foolishly prattled
With horrendous noises, pots and pans were being rattled
My head was sorely throbbing so I begged her to be quiet
She screamed, "Don't yell at me! Blame your liquid diet!"
She banged a bowl of something down on the table cloth.
I weaved my way to a chair as my mouth began to froth
Put my head in my hands when the room started spinning
Caught a glimpse of that evil woman. Yeah, she was grinning
A mound of muck she'd plunked down right in front of me
looked like it should still be swimming in the salty sea
It smelled vile and disgusting... nauseatingly atrocious
I gagged and turned away, that's when Liz became ferocious
I couldn't move an inch to find my way back to the couch
I was a brick, held by mortar. My wife was being a grouch
but I couldn't find the strength to flee. I felt far too dizzy
My turn to shout, "Can you just stop your naggin', Lizzie?"
I didn't mean to say it, and my words came out so slurred
My vision was fuzzy. Everything was clouded and blurred
Something was staring up at me while awful music played
That's when I saw green heads and grew appallingly afraid
Whether fantasy or reality, frogs had escaped from a pond
These were fugly creatures. From evil they'd been spawned
I was being serenaded by a quartet of deep croaking voices
So suffers the drunken man while his heartless wife rejoices
I crawled to bed when I couldn't take the harmony any more
Lizzie punched me and said, "Wake up if you're gonna snore."
I tripped down the stairs, woke the dog and made him bark
Left the wife and found a bench to sleep it off in the park
But wherever you are, I no longer want to be:
for you are thunderstruck moonlight,
and I am a scarred sunset ~ a secret in saffron,
melting into the myth that floats forever,
within silenced dunes of scorpion stones,
where the cryptic coldness of sand feels like~
Cupid’s daggers piercing through
my aching skin and bones.
Frost-kissed vines wrap around
my wintry heart,
screaming for a sacred release
from the tethered torment
of satanic sapphires,
breathing within the haunted caves
of unending nightmares ~
and the twilight that wanes
behind flatlined promises.
Tonight, I feel like arrows of angst,
ricocheting within these woeful walls
of my melancholic mausoleum,
mirroring the heat of a burning breeze ~
like an epitaph lost in the sweltering air.
The clover of golden green glimmers,
like fireflies around my wrists,
luring distant ravens,
croaking above paralyzed dreams,
to untangle the crooked lines of lies,
crawling within clouds of comfort,
oblivious to Lilith’s serpent slithering
around my fragile feet in slow cadence,
pushing me to the darker dusks
drawn above the prying
valley of putrid prunes,
where these wistful musings
will remain as mere voiceless ashes,
cremated in vain,
with flames of forgotten folktales
echoing as faded music within a glass urn.
So, if tomorrow I’m gone, remember me ~
I still breathe silver snippets of hope,
a frozen quiescence,
etched in seven arcs of stardust,
longing to be anywhere but here.
Perhaps as the last verse of your poem,
or could I be the lone rose,
forever thriving in the galactic gardens of love,
where hate and greed, tangled in
jinxed jewels,
dissolve into nothingness ~
like rusted ribbons of the crestfallen lunar.
I hope lilacs and lavenders will bloom
in hypnotic hues, to calm raging rivers flowing
within the arctic arteries of a dark poet,
longing for a home
away from hellish hands,
so I can serenade songs of survival
and rhapsodies of resilience,
while watching every tear I’ve shed
crystallize into pearls and diamonds,
like born-again stars in violet skies.
i was a frog who wanted to be king
until i realized i couldn't even sing
a songbird shrilled
"you're only a croaker out of tune"
still i stood on my stump with a tortured smile
croaking my heart out all the while
i dreamed of being a stand-up crooner
a swamp-side sinatra maybe a little sooner
the crickets laughed
the herons one-legged stared
every fragile dream i swallowed
sat inside me
broken and unprepared
the wart-filled toad spat from his lily pad
"you’re stretching your skin boy
settle into the scum"
i carried an empty pond inside
where a thousand thorny dreams went to die
the audience left
the moon went home
a cold blue screen spit its light onto the scum
unthinking
no one returned my croak
i died a little every time i tried
my face looked back from the pond
mud-covered
wart-covered
ugly
my reflection looked away
all it could do was cry
today the water settled
the mud claimed the surface
when i looked down
there wasn’t even a frog
left to die
Sitting alone she whispered:
“I wish I had Poetry”
A passing butterfly
Offered her wings
A setting sun
Its “orange-ness”
The passing breeze
Its scented story
The croaking frogs
Their harmony
10,000 insects
A riffled hum
A distant Loon
Its eerie call
A silent Owl
Blinked
Its eyes saying
“we are poetry”
“become as we”
She no longer sits alone
I AM A WATER LILY
When blue skies kiss whisper and ***** ripples quiver...
I drink on sun rays and bathe from falling rain,
I stand there afloat: graceful and reserve.
From pink petals shimmer, I flush also a moonlit snow,
honeyed aroma I puff and puff chasing wind curves
thrilling some senses, awakening some nerves!
Upon gush and waves of bursting rainbow colors,
I lay atop, my rhizomes rise, they waft....
Around my roots are croaking frogs and slimy eels,
they thrive for I supply their daily meals.
Day by day in my life, I live to be pure,
my heart beckons heaven yet my roots down here...
Even if currents trample me and storms blow me,
upon seas and oceans, I trip like a sailing ship
but upon force, upon wonders I shall abide
giving my everything-- my best white shots!
_____________________________________________________
Note: Rhizomes - a horizontal plant stem with shoots above and roots below
serving as a reproductive structure
~~WATER LILY ---purity of heart ~~
Sponsor Andrea Dietrich
Contest Name Picture Yourself as a Flower!
Placed 5th...
O.E. GUILLERMO
10:29 am, May 05, 2015
We run, we jump, we cry, we laugh,
We sit, we stand, we're weak, we're tough,
We're fat or slim, we swag and sway...
We love like you love, and we're gay.
In morning light, you slumber still:
Familiar form against my chest,
It is your favourite place to rest.
I tickle you with senseless skill.
You make espresso, I fix bread
We yawn in unison, and smile
You dress in orange, your own style,
I love you (I already said)
We run, we jump, we cry, we laugh,
We sit, we stand, we're weak, we're tough,
We're fat or slim, brown-haired or gray
We love like you love, and we're gay.
You push my chair, we walk the dogs
The weather nice, trees green and lush
You kiss my lips, I chastely blush
Only observed by croaking frogs
We're not so different,
Can't you see?
So don't be ignorant
Just let us be.
We run, we jump, we cry, we laugh,
We sit, we stand, we're weak, we're tough,
We're fat or slim, we work, we play
We love like you love, and we're gay.
***
March 18, 2017
Sponsor Laura Loo
3do place in Contest: Any Poem Written In March
A pond sits in the glen
bright fish dashing about
casting silvery shadows
ducks chasing after them
eels making their way to sea
flying birds circling back and forth
green frogs croaking for a mate
herons gobbling them up
in the depths a pike floats
jutting out its pointed head
keeping hidden as it prowls
lurking between the rotting logs
minnows swim by unharmed in shoals
newts eagerly snapping them up
out in the reeds lays up a catfish
playing dead it patiently waits
quick to react to its prey
reaping the bounties little fry snack
sticklebacks swim lazily through reed beds
trout leaping catching fly's and midgets
under the calm waters life abounds
vivid rainbow trout spawn
while the blue waters thrive
xanthine filled plants floating
yellowfin cutthroat trout dart by and
zander perch fill a fisherman's net
As I enter the woods for a walk on a path walked by many
I see that the trees create an overhead canopy
With small streak of light filtering through the canopy
Squirrels scampering up and down the trees
Birds chirping and singing in perfect harmony
Toads blending into their surrounding
Frogs croaking on lily pads in the nearby pond
Balsam trees giving off their fresh scent of pine
My eyes can't believe the beautiful sights and sounds heard as I leave
Thinking what a wonderful walk in the woods I had
Cattle Drive
Roll over a bit in me swag
Get some bones clear of the ground
Dew is on us swag cover is wet
Dingo is howling around
The cattle are camped in the corner
The frogs are croaking, smile creeps
Old horse has the nose bag on
Oats n the chaff for his keep
Fox has his nose in the camp oven
Cattle dog snarls n he freaks
Fox has blurted and gone now
Cattle dog goes back to sleep
At daylight we are catching the horses
Hobbles come off as they squeak
Saddle and mount a grumpy horse
be unloaded, you’re bloody weak :)
Old horse drops his head again smartly
Pigroots around the flat
Stay with him mate it’s only
oats causing springing like that.
Cattle move on down the Stockroute
15 mile a day cross water n creeks
40 mile to the railhead Darby
The Shielas are waiting so sweet.
Don Johnson
Hey Babe
I know the feeling Im a whiz at computers been using since 1990 .
My little laptop has inbuilt webcam i record from.
I was using a usb type video camera ...which worked well.
Do make an effort to put you on you tube ...
there is lots of crappity crap there so you will be welcomed there ..
i have 190 poems n talking too...just good fun its what i do...love
Don
whippoorwill
trills a
song
larks
in trees
sing along
croaking frogs
join the
throng
then
crickets
chirp with ease
symphony
on the
breeze
Sept. 27. 2018
for the Haiku 1-2-3 Or 3-2-1 Poetry Contest of charles messina