Best Dinosaur Poems | Poetry
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New Dinosaur Poems
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Critterary Verses: A lesson from the dinosaur
by Slaughter, Jim
If I had a Dinosaur
by Krutsinger, Caren
I Have A Pet Dinosaur
by Acrich, Marc
by Shaw, Kevin
Moon Girl And Devil Dinosaur
by Lee Sr., James Edward
Will it be dinosaur foot tickling or chucking beetroot around then
by Chanan, Taoi
by Asuncion, Bernard F.
The Constant Dinosaur
by Mahoney, Donal
Dora my dinosaur
by Duggan, Vera
by U.D Palawon , Sunita
View all new Dinosaur Poems
The Best Dinosaur Poems
Floating in the sky...
Changing patterns fill my eye...
What will you become?
Vagabond and wanderer...
Riding wind so high,
No matter where it blows.
You thumb your way to places
I have been and some I'll never know.
Changing shape and color,
Hiding your identity,
Until you speak with beauty and power.
First, a turtle, moving slowly.
Crawling and paddling in peaceful grace.
Next, a shark swimming swiftly
Consuming those around you.
Finally a dinosaur...
Your neck and tail extended
So I will know your name...
Forgetting you're a cloud.
Vagabond and wanderer...
Just vapor in the air, traveling everywhere.
So soft and sweet...
Then dirty and dark...you loudly speak.
Rain, thunder and lightening are your friends.
It's pleasant when your anger ends,
And rainbows arch to show me where you've been.
At night, your shadow hides the stars
And makes us wander where they are.
You choose to show selected few
The moon and stars...romantic you.
Sunrise...you meet the sun with colors of the day.
A canvas. A pleasant palette
Where light can play.
Sunset...you form a beautiful pillow
To gently catch the sun.
So rays may rest til morrow come.
Vagabond and wanderer...
Tomorrow let me see your face,
Another chance ...
To watch you dance...
Until you catch a ride...
Copyright © Ray Dillard | Year Posted 2013
I close my weary eyes
I quake and tremble
The meaning of life losing its hold,
Losing its wonder
In this magnifying, mystifying Sadness
Where is the river,
Where is the ocean
To drown these sorrows...
The dry formations in this barren land stay tall,
Pools holding life drying in the dinosaur wasteland
I am bones...
I am bones sinking in the waterless chalk
I keep these eyes shut
To hide inside my meditations
My ears have grown accustomed to the silence,
And sensitive to the drops of tears
They dry too quickly,
For the sun is against the moisture
And all for the fossilization of my soul
Where is the river?
Where is the ocean...
I do not ask with hope-
I am too ancient to beg for miracles
To dream, yet, too long I have slept
I ask on account of who I once was,
A land so lush and plentiful
See now only the dryest thrive
I am bones on the brink of history...
The elements have claimed me
Life will return elsewhere
I am become by the rock and the sun
Copyright © Laura Breidenthal | Year Posted 2015
You hard-wired me awake,
pointed your Badmotorfinger at a softened lock—
I mind-cut through rusted steel
unlike motors that run on crucifix pitch
and exhumations of dinosaur bones
Seattle was the garden of sound:
a down-tuned spark
for a daydream nation
trying to outshine the blisters
of forests that burned at both ends
Anthems for an alienated youth
who no longer saw God
in the preacher's cataracts,
didn't nibble on dangled, plastic fruit,
and melted full metal jackets
into foggy distortion pedals
We outlived Kurt, whose blue still remains
in bleached mud beneath evergreens
And after it all (in all),
you crept back into the rusty cage
you'd warned us about in four octaves
I'm gonna walk the river down to muddy waters
where its rust begins to stain the shore—
follow its reflections like a pack of wolves
May 18th, 2017
"When the forest burns along the road
Like God's eyes in my headlights
When the dogs are looking for their bones
And it's raining ice picks on your steel shore
I'm gonna break I'm gonna break my—
I'm gonna break my rusty cage and run"
Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC,
BMG RIGHTS MANAGEMENT US, LLC
Chris Cornell, July 20th, 1964 - May 17th, 2017
Rest And Rust (your metallic blues) In Peace
Copyright © Chris D. Aechtner | Year Posted 2017
Like an archaic humanoid dinosaur
you plunder through life taking no prisoners,
with your philosophical knuckles dragging on the ground.
You are a dying breed born of privilege and tenacious greed,
tendering little in life other than your selfish need.
What is it you seek in life other than your very personal comfort?
You never give a sideways glance to anyone with no chance of adding to your
circumstance; narrow minded cruelty subsidies the shutdown of any
tenderness, allowing emotional banalities to supersede integrity.
Your karmic debt is too cancerous to be free -
a lover of women among inept men,
but piteous fodder for contempt among strong women.
Neanderthal, you tossed love off the tongue like spit flung and stung my cheek with
runny dung....in disgust I turn away at your insipid attempt at manhood.
So many conquests, so little time.
The pittance you gave is but a trail of unwitting shame,
littered like Gretel's bread crumbs into a wilderness of pain...
How sad you thought such a pittance could buy my soul.
I am no longer a member of your colonial servitude,
and you are an inept fossil long past its prime.
From this moment, Narcissistic Neanderthal,
I am free.
Copyright © Anna Lee Stedman | Year Posted 2012
I remember Christopher Robin
When helping Pooh find honey
Was my biggest problem
I remember the blustery days
We trusted each other in every way
I remember When we helped Eeyore
Find his way home from the Sea shore
Everything was good
In the Hundred Acre Woods
I remember Curious George
I had to chase him a hundred miles
As soon as my mother kissed me good night
We went around the world
But we made it home
Two minutes before sunlight
And everything was alright
And Sammy the Seal would let me get on his back
And ride for a million miles
We exchanged halcyon smiles
And I remember the monster
Who brought fear to the hundred acre woods
Scarier than the Heffalump
Scarier than the thing with the Black eyes
He was pure evil in disguise
He told lies
Filled with evil and guile
Christopher Robin called him a Pedofofile
It tried to seduce me
Ten minutes after my mother introduced me
I remember that ice cold June
When Mama said “We’re getting married soon"
And Disney left the room
I remember when
And Hugh Hefner moved in
And H.A. Ray moved away
And Dr. Seuss and Syd Hoff
Took the Summer off
I remember seeing the door knob turn
The Pedofofile kneeled on one knee
Said he had a story he wanted to read to me
And he brought pornos to my bed
Mother Goose turned her head
Christopher Robin Fled
Curious George hid under the bed
And the hundred acre woods were
filled with dread
I remember us all gathering around
The meeting in Hundred acre woods
Christopher Robin said if I
Opened up the pornofo graphic
I could be banned for good
I asked him what’s a Pornofographic magazine
He didn't know exactly what to say
But saidt they were ten times worse
Than any blustery day
But i was curious like Curious George
I was curious like Curious George
I opened the Pornofographic magazine
I remember the woman
I saw more of her insides than a doctor
I remember the dog on top of her
But I can’t tell you what they did
And i cried out for Winnie the Pooh
I just wanted to be a kid
I remember the last time
I saw Christopher Robin
Tears rolled down his chin
he asked me why I had to
Let the pedofofile in
And it was a blustery day times ten
And I waved goodbye to Piglet
And Roo to Tigger
And the heffalump too
But Mostly I remember standing closely
To Danny the Dinosaur
He told me he would always love me
But I couldn’t slide down his back anymore
I remember 1974
2011 Dr. Seuss Poet M.e. Michael Ellis..
Copyright © Poet M.e. | Year Posted 2016
he shows me books on T-Rex. . .
years later. . . watching
Jurassic Park on TV. . .
my two kids and I
games played on a screen
my grandson plays the hunter. . .
I’m the dinosaur
For SKAT's Dinosaurs Haiku Contest
Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2011
Primose path leads to the slaughter of American
dream delete pause proficiency with internetty
webbegone after thoughts of yahoo googleyed
interred intracaces that shed benign capsules of
mom entary apple pie delquiences cooling
the soul shopping for the next alias avenue of
pointless me procurement mauling an ongoing
onerous dildodate vis a vie meme.com/me in
an engaging omnipresence of sextext no tact
spell ckeck chicshicshakplak no sense tic tac.
Talk? Walk? Balk? Chalk? Sue? Sulk?
Dinosaur diligence posse with the senior
gestages gestulating, we r forevre 21 and ying yang
dung. Yes, good f ing luck with that!! Look at your
petridish parents and see what box u check to lid close
and abscond with the lost liberal leftovers. That
is you in reverse in a few carnal years after Hilter youth
children decide to screw us as the new
generation which skewer post present parental postulates
to the oldster outhouse outlets so u can be "youf" free. Little
do they notknow as they cumulatively co opulate
that they set the stooge stage for no thanx ahole actions.
The DOS does'nt fall from the Apple tree. Leave it,
love it, learn it while ye may, the kid crisp cosmos of
offspring social dicktates are biting at your heartbeatbit
empty elmo enterprises. Pause parenatal prenatal
preferences prepearing perinatal persons pretasking
postnatal practices, in which you have veno papa preparation.
Think before you For Unlawful Carnal Knowledge and Analyze
your ***-incarnate initiate. Borrow berofe u basterdize,
condomize before u copu culminate, decide before
u dicktate, envision before u envy, fail before u foil,
grasp before u germinate, halt before u hinder,
illuminate before u illerate, jump before u jinx,
kill before u keep, love before u lay, meaning before
moaning, neutralize before u now, obilerate before
u ooops! presence before predicament, quit before
quake, resilience before ridiculous, sanity before
sexusensuality, thinkth before u thumpth, utilize
before u unionize, victory before victimization, we
before want, xx nor xy, zen before zeal. Pocket
passion files fly in the face of ruined reason residules
to the point of pronounced perplextion plagued
prominantly with no recall references to problematic
protocals for near north normalicies in my buckeye
life measures of simpatico silly symbiosis sublime
of mini me monophile mucous made misdemeanor
milktoast memories. Pass go, collect $200.
Copyright © Dave Collins | Year Posted 2013
You may think me mad for saying this, but I know this to be true for sure.
If we are truly to evolve into a higher specie, money must go the way of the dinosaur.
What should motivate us all is higher morality
and not the pursuit of gain monetarily,
which only serves to cultivate greed ultimately.
Greed then goes on to pursue power eventually,
and absolute power corrupts absolutely.
What's the solution? I don't know my friend truly,
but I believe that People Helping People is the key.
All People Helping People Universally
will be at the heart of our newly evolved spiritual currency.
Copyright © Billy TheKidster | Year Posted 2010
A creature so unlike a dinosaur,
Pallid, weak and frail.
No fossil in the stony flesh of Mother Earth,
Unlike trilobite, leaf or snail.
Worse yet, no one searches for your trace,
Or recognises that you're missing,
They're all wrapped up in studying,
Fornication, fondling and kissing.
No biologist, paleontologist, anthropologist,
Searches for your presence, growing frantic,
To find at least one before the Great Extinction,
The last of the true Romantics.
T'is true they're not searching for you now,
Without rutting their interest is small,
They'll learn one day that the old ways were true,
And again you may hear hopeful calls
Copyright © William Kershaw | Year Posted 2010
TYRANETTESAURUS ~ LIMERICK
Cute baby tyrannosaurus nette
gobbled bushy tree all curled and wet
shocked mom screamed in vain
trying to explain
her daughter swallowed their poor ole vet
NEW ERA ~ HAIKU
relics of doc’s mashed bonies
crowned with trophies
Contest of PD: Dinosaur-Quest
by nette onclaud
Copyright © nette onclaud | Year Posted 2012
a speck of dust
on the surface of life
that's all we are
that's all we are
though life may cause u strife
that's all u are
that's all u are
a tiny atom on a
that's all we are
that's all we are
a little black dot
on a giant white star
that's all u are
that's all u are
-and as the tide rolls out
u see what u can see..
our sister moon reveals
the bottom of the sea-
-they say there's nothing new
beneath our father sun
you're just a speck of dust
but you're not the only one.......
Copyright © Trevor Houchen | Year Posted 2005
(Dedication: For Paul Callus)
Time and space dance
Sorrow meets cheer
Sync with tact
Joy ever fades
Nothing much remains
Joy even tempts
Offers nothing new
Lament in loss
Not much done
Not much gain
Write in rhymes
Sign a song
Mind the glitch
Write in lines
Reason a poise
Mind the route
End game pulse
Point for point
End game tense
Strain in void
10 Apr 2014
Copyright © Leon Enriquez | Year Posted 2014
As I walked, one morning, alone, by the sea,
Thinking of nothing but myself and me,
I noticed, above the roar of the ocean,
A splashing, and thrashing, and foaming commotion.
My heart pounded madly, and adrenaline surged,
When a great, scaly beast, from the water emerged.
The creature stood glistening wet in the sun.
I didn't know whether to stand there, or run.
It turned its great head and looked all around.
Its red eyes like beacons, ten feet from the ground.
As it stepped slowly forward, the damp beach sand crunched,
And I wondered if I would be breakfast, or lunch.
Although the sea monster was at least ten-feet tall,
The look in its eyes was not threatening at all.
The creature seemed friendly, and curious too--
Wondering and waiting to see what I 'd do.
At last I remembered what feet were made for,
So I slowly turned, and walked back down the shore.
Now, strange as it seems, the thing followed me home.
It lay down on the porch, and I ran to the phone.
I called up some scientists, and they rolled on the floor,
When I said I'd discovered a live dinosaur.
But, to prove that they know how to play by the book,
They said, "Bring it on in, and we'll take a look."
Well, they probed, and they prodded, and they analyzed.
They studied its throat, its ears, and its eyes.
Then the great men of science, at last, made their call:
"Why, this isn't a dinosaur at all!
Marine iguana is the correct definition--
With a somewhat serious thyroid condition."
Copyright © William Robinson | Year Posted 2005
I remember summers past in the south
and the sultry heat.
Iced tea and back porch confessions.
Making time with that first love.
The swing underneath that old tree.
The radio playing softley in the background.
Thoose ways have long since died.
Replaced by a breakneck pace.
As were all to willing to forsake a conversation between
two human beings.
It's all about one night stands and bragging rights.
It's like comparing velvet to burlap.
All harsh no mystery.
Where people would rather surf the internet
The passion of the kiss.
Is but a dinosaur that people
view as some old silent film.
A blanket underneath the stars
Has been replaced by a encounter in a
Upward we advance as deeper we sink within the
As the poet reflects ink drying
in he pen.
I recall thoose times so very slow.
To this sudden stand still.
Like a pile up on the interstate.
I no longer live I wait.
But the sunset still haunts me.
Along with the scent of the salt filled air.
that tree's swing does no longer stand.
As in dust and memories it's been taken with
The road echos of another time.
For all that was free and wild.
Is slowley vanishing.
As we blindly advance.
I'll sit and watch the tide.
And be happy to be left behind.
Copyright © John Patrick Robbins AKA Gonzo | Year Posted 2009
One of the most positive writes i have witnessed to date
Was written today and well worth the wait
An awesome Quatrain, by this Devonshire poet
If you have read her past writes, you would certainly know it
What we see in our world now, is what she wants us to see
Dinosaur remains are an example to me
This beautiful planet will gladly reveal
As she shares her histories, our mysteries reveal
If we let her breathe, sigh and flourish
She may be more giving, as we help her re-nourish
And this write will be remembered for its visionary
And her mysteries will be our history
Inspired by " Stunning Revelations from Ancient Maps "
By Carolyn Devonshire
Copyright © James Fraser | Year Posted 2009
STORM OF TREES
ripping up roofs
like a doll house, bedroom contents exposed
miles of splintered lumber, stacked against odds
like tears, raining upon the sodden ground
cleanup with a purple dinosaur song
a note’s read
smells like perfume
an old man embraces his broken wife
the smell of Christmas pine, foreign to this
season of death
yet one palm
Copyright © Kim Rodrigues | Year Posted 2017
said he saw,
but he wasn't sure
what the sea was for.
said he saw the sky,
but he didn't know why,
the sky was so high.
A humble turtle,
fumbled over a hurdle,
but being a turtle,
it didn't hurt at all.
A fat cat sat on a mat
after eating a rat.
I picked up a pen,
at ten past ten,
and robbed you of time
with this gem of mine.
Copyright © Nick Trim | Year Posted 2018
Dinosaurs once ruled the earth,
And their bones are found all over.
They're in the ground
Just waiting around
For some paleontologist to discover.
There were thin ones, and tall ones,
And fat ones, and small ones,
But they all lacked one basic requirement.
Though all were distinct,
They all went extinct
'Cause they didn't plan well for retirement.
Copyright © Jim Slaughter | Year Posted 2018
Before there was a thing called "Man"
The Maker had a better plan.
He filled he sea with little fish
Of every kind that He might wish.
Then He made the dinosaur
To rule the land from shore to shore.
Next came the monks, orang-otan.
Gorillas, and an ape called "Man".
Man is half God, and beast one half.
He writes his own grim epitaph.
The Maker thinks, "Next time the plants?
Not yet, until I've tried the ants".
Copyright © Dave Moore | Year Posted 2018
These days my frustration is digital in that `Brave New World'
and I can count on two digits who is in and who is out and in
that sense am quite binary dualistic in my sense of frustration
dichotomous reliant polarised with a shibboleth splitting my virtue
The internet does not work yet again in that world class City
of Josy and my stream of consciousness leads me to moving
out of my skin in resentful anger or just back to Europe or any
other place where the grass is greener in any unrestricted case
where its so green it shines purple psychedelic so to speak
in my escapist boiling dreams desires fantasies of…what I ask
Of course Aldous Huxley pertained his vision of brave and new to more important
matters than not knowing how to survive when my internet fails
he spoke of tramps and homeless and drew a connection from
hegemony of the rich and the hunger and freezing exclusion of…
Well half the globe’s population I suppose on less than two feral
not federal dollars a day in sweat shops and war zones breaking
old bricks and their backs sowing designer footballs and branded
clothing and are branded by the lottery of their birth and demise
And my net still does not work I am a dinosaur almost extinct cannot fix it
and am privileged to operate if not quite app-arate yet somehow
In a state of aberrant abnormal dysfunctional dis-longing conformed
into dependence when my poetry cannot for a moment reach that
global community most of which has better more vital needs than
to read my unease with connections with the ephemeral ether
Huxley spoke of classes of people designed for their purpose in
laboratory’s breeding grounds no chips on their shoulders and
maybe some chips in their brains happily chirping away liberated
from the plights of possessions outsourcing capital to the haves
Apartheid comes to mind ‘Lebensraum’ and marginalisation of
class racial distinction gender sexual orientation and of how
much we are steered by a modernity serving the few with
knowledge and power sharing lip service a fig leaf attached
to the curtains of wealth from the outside of dens in disguise
of pseudo equality with the opium freely flowing for the masses
Eureka and I almost shouted Ikea as I am caught up while slurping
my Coke drink in subconscious consumption but the internet works now
I am connected with the world again or with the illusion of what
it might be deluded and rationalised up to the gills in my immanent
problem of luxury and the desire to write a letter with ink on paper
and send it with a pretty stamp not fragmented and not so virtually
If I can find the strength to be honest and there is no honesty app so far
other than my mind my frustration of being cut off from the world has
possibly much more to do with what is happening when I trod off the
treacherous path of self righteousness and take a short stroll into the
township nearby and open my eyes and not that google window
Thanks to the internet or rather its loss I can see much clearer for now
31st October 2016
Copyright © Kai Michael Neumann | Year Posted 2016
You have asked what I do see
From my Magic Window
If you really want to know
Sit tight here I go.
From my Magic Window
I see the future and the past
Time before creation
And time before man
Where the dinosaur moved
Through the rocky hills
And Eons later their remains
Give me a thrill
Where Adam and Eve
And the apple tree I view
If I could only have been there
I'd have turned the serpent into a stew
How I love Noah's Ark
And the animals on board
Thanks to God we now enjoy
All but the dinosaurs
And what of the caveman
Who in rocky caves resided
Hand prints, pictures, wheel and fire
Have us all excited
There is Roman history, World history
War history and cowboy history
And what of the Indians as for their lands they fought
When the foreigners moved in and left them all distraught
Maybe I'll share
My Magic Window now and then
And if I bore you and you don't come back
That's alright my friend
August 16, 2010
Copyright © Marycile Beer | Year Posted 2010
My research reveals there's an Allosaurus
And a dinosaur called a Zupaysaurus.
As you can readily see,
I have searched from A to Z,
But am yet to find one called a Thesaurus!
Entry for Roy Jerden's "Limericks Clean and Clever" Contest
(10 Nov 2014)
Copyright © Robert L. Hinshaw | Year Posted 2014
This small for his age little boy on his first day of school, with his little dinosaur backpack and new blue jeans and white t shirt. Mama said “Be sure to be careful to not to stain your shirt, especially at lunch cause I know how much you love your ketchup.” He stands with his head towards the ground letting his deep red hair cover his freckled face because he knows a whole new world is at his feet, the first day of many more first days to come for the next 13 years of his school life. He looks out among the many faces in the large, peeling blue paint room and his stomach twists into various size knots. He holds his lunch tray of pizza and milk with shaky hands, almost drops it twice just standing there. The roar of all the students and staff echo off the walls, the security with their walkies and the kids laughing horribly loud make his nerves even more uneasy. He stands slightly slouched and bites on his lower lip, somethings hes done since infancy when he was feeling over whelmed. He doesn't know what to do, or what he is allowed to do. Maybe go out to the play ground and hide in the big yellow tunnel slide or even in a bathroom stale till class started. One side of the cafeteria had larger children, the 5th graders, and the sizes of them decreased as you moved your sight to the right of the room. There was no order to where you had to sit, it was just every grade sort of stayed with each other, the 1st, 2nd, 3rd, 4th and 5th graders all grouped together, maybe they were afraid to venture out of their safe zones. After 5th grade you go to the bigger school, they call it middle school which is not the scariest cause after that you have high school and everyone says its a nightmare. He looks down at his feet and knows he looks like a fool just standing there for how ever long he has been, which was much to long. He didn't see any of his classmates, maybe there was a special spot just for his grade somewhere that will accept him with open arms . Even if he did he didn't know any of their names and none of them seemed to care for his. They wouldn't play with him at recess or be his partner in gym, nobody even wanted to sit by him at carpet time. They all gave
him the cold shoulder, you could see the sadness on his face every time you had to have a partner for a activity. As if he was about to burst out in heavy tears, his face would get red and he would hold his tummy as if cringing in pain. He is a coward and returns to the class room to eat his now cold food with the teacher and be forever known as the teachers pet, all because the lack of self confidence in that small child in that small moment in time, in the ocean of seats in the room with the peeling paint.
Copyright © Cat Way | Year Posted 2012
I didn't really mean,
To do what I have done,
I trod on a dinosaur's tail
And now I'm on the run.
He's about forty feet long
And he's breathing down my neck,
My heart is purely throbbing
And my nerves are all a wreck.
He's just about on top of me
His teeth about to crunch.
Oh where do you hide from a dinosaur
When you're about to be his lunch.
"Stop playing with that lizard Tommy
And come on in for tea,"
"Ah, you'd spoil any game mum
For a little boy like me."
-more poems like this can be found at:
Copyright © john williams | Year Posted 2014
The tree that no one can resist/
The father that no one can define/
The one who never had a puncture on a wheelchair of life/
The one who defines all your body parts and create a lingo that suits your hearing/
One who lets you drive through his heart/
Turns his highway of love your best stop/
Drive you through the clouds your thoughts/
Be your Shakespeare in your smiles
Thou art painted in your face carries the moon on my soul/
Thy name flips pages on my face/
Amplify a smile just in case your file in my heart gets damaged on ugly days/
Feelings that never escape your dress-code/
I wish i be the spark my magnet/
The dinosaur breath that exhibits flames of love/
That's the breath of fresh love/
Travelling back and forth in my lungs its the phileo love/ phileo love/
I wish i be a plant growing phileo love/
Copyright © Young King sa | Year Posted 2013