Best Goat Poems
Not to be taken lightly, I burnt all my clothes
Cut the tattoos off my back, tore pins from my nose
Foraged for food particles, where wild beasts reposed
Lapped water vapour off thorns, when the thirst arose
My identity gone, I herded mountain goats
Built a makeshift altar, one by one, slit their throats
Looking to the heavens, chanting primeval quotes
Tell me what to do, this sacrifice I devote
But silence returned, I knew nothing else mattered
The goats now all dead, my hands blooded and spattered
A local tribe watched on, their souls not so shattered
Idolised me, then to the four winds they scattered
After two score and ten, they returned unforetold
Carrying symbols, textbooks, diamonds, and gold
Smiling in joy, I asked what stories they behold
All wrote versions of my life in books, but mistold
Some had butchered nations, said it was in my name
Others brainwashed little children, feeling no shame
The rest knocked on doors, telling lies they heal the lame
Scamming billions of sesterces, their one true aim
I condemned the lies, but was a very bad call
They burst into laughter, and pointed to their haul
Just then everything made sense, as I do recall
Killing goats made me, the biggest scapegoat of all
Hello my friend, good day to you; I see you got my note
It's time we had a face to face about that crazy goat!
He made a mess, broke in my barn; ate up my buds and cans
And when I tried to chase him out, he kicked my bloomin' fan
Now see here Mr. Farmin' Man, I know you from way back
But if you don't restrain that goat - I'll stretch his scrawny neck!
Me and that goat been fightin' long; he thinks he won this time
So I'll show him today for sure that I'm still in my prime
That goat won't get the better of me; I'll trap him with some hay
I'll lay a path straight to the barn and lead him in that way
Oh darn! He's smarter than I thought, he ate up to the door
He stopped and turned then shook his tail like he don't want no more
Aww shucks - there's got to be a way to trap that crazy goat
He's found new ways into my barn - I'll send another note
This time though Mr. Farmin' Man, I will not shout and wail
I'm goin to git the Sheriff now and throw that goat in jail!
These two guys were out on a bird hunt
Suddenly they came upon a pit
Looks deep said one; I’ll throw some rocks in
And see how long it takes them to hit
Never heard the rocks hit the bottom
OK, I have an idea, said one
I saw an old transmission back there
We’ll hear it hit; it must weigh a ton
They worked hard dragging that transmission
Then they pushed it down into the pit
They listened intently for a noise
So anxious to finally hear it hit
Suddenly from the brush behind them
A Goat emerged, running to beat sh..
One hundred mile per hour bee-line
Ran right between them into the pit
They looked at each other “dumb founded”
When a farmer drove up in his truck
“Have you guys seen my goat around here?”
One hunter said; “You’ve had some bad luck”
“A goat just ran straight into this pit
He looked like he was on a mission”
“Well, that sure couldn’t have been my goat
My goat was chained to a transmission”
The purple on his chin was tellin'
there was just no use to lie.
That pesky, good for nothin' goat
had eaten Mother's pie.
She had set it on the porch
jist to cool it down a bit,
and don't you know that goat had come
and calmly eaten it.
My little brother looked as if
he was inclined to cry.
They'd warned him things
would have to change
or Billy Goat would die.
I got a rag to help him scrub
that bright dye off his whisker.
He could appeal to Mom's good side,
but didn't want to risk her.
That goat had climbed on everythin'
from our new car to house.
He'd eaten nightshirts off the line.
No wonder Mom would grouse.
I'll kill that goat", our mother said
a dozen time or so.
Of course she didn't mean it but
our brother didn't know.
Now little brother'd come along
when most of us were growed.
He never seem to learn the ways
the rest of us all knowed.
He didn't learn to work around
our mama's laws and such.
He had no wiles to pertect him.
His goat was sure in dutch.
Bein' so much younger must be tough
and not too easy sailin'.
His best friend was this pesky goat
and that was fast a failin'.
He guessed the only way to go
was take his goat and run.
He didn't think to take a coat
and weinies and a bun.
The rest of us when we run off,
we knowed enough to take
some warm clothes and some
sandwitches 'n even choclit cake.
We were all scared when brother
didn't turn up for a meal
and we could see the worry our
mama began to feel.
So Daddy got his good horse Dan
and took the dogs along,
and said he'd just go scout him out;
be sure nothin' was wrong.
It seemed a good long time before
we saw Dad ridin' back
with somethin' on his saddle.
It looked much like a sack.
But it was our little brother
and he was sound asleep.
Dad found him in the orchard
with apples in a heap.
His cunnin' goat had climbed up
in the ole apple tree
and flung down the ripe apples,
as nimble as can be.
So brother wasn' hungry
but he was mighty weary.
Our mother grabbed him in her arms
and all of us were teary.
That wily goat was smart enough
to prove himself a winner.
He'd saved our brother and himself
from becoming our goat dinner.
By: Joyce Johnson
Here is just a little clue,
Look inside the words I write,
Other words hide in there, too,
When packed in tight, they unite.
Scapegoat is the first one,
I don’t think a goat’s aware,
Escaping from this poem,
That his pelt might need repair.
Afterthought is complex too,
A thought that comes thereafter,
After all the work is through,
Thought-too-late distractor.
Airbag? Are you serious?
Air, of course, you cannot see,
Plastic bags are hazardous.
That just makes no sense to me.
Doughnuts are my favorite treat,
It’s true nutlets grow on trees,
Bakery goods are oh so sweet,
But I’m out of dough, you see.
©2020BeverlyStock
I once had a goat who loved to swim
I enrolled him at our local gym
I know, I know, it was just a whim!
Do tell!
He did rather well in beginners’ match
Girl swimmers thought him quite a catch
But he failed to get his lifesaver’s patch.
Oh, hell!
He punched a hole in the kiddie pool
So, I enrolled him in the ballet school
He butted heads with Master Abdul.
Oh, swell!
This kid simply couldn’t measure up
Until, finally, he won the Cannabis Cup
And with the money he bought a pup.
Oh, well!
SIXTH PLACE WINNER
written April 6, 2022
for "Tail-Rhymed" poetry contest
sponsored by Jeff Kyser
There’s a goat on my roof and he won’t come down;
there’s a goat on my roof, acting like a clown.
That clip-clop of hooves, what obnoxious noise;
though it’s amazing, his level of poise.
What drew him there, I do not know,
there wasn’t any food or foe.
Just walking around, he thinks he’s hot,
I had to tell him, he is not.
He’s munching my oak, from the roof top;
I’ve yelled till I’m hoarse, to get him to stop.
My neighbor says, a goat is good Feng Shui;
so, I suppose I will just let him stay.
goat yoga
relaxes body and mind –
no kidding!
Do watch this clip on the BBC website!
www.bbc.co.uk/news/av/world-europe-isle-of-man-44473950/goat-yoga-you-must-be-kidding
7/3/18
Upon the hills, dry brush prevails,
Thriving still on winter rains, summer's tale.
Soon, the sun's embrace will come,
Kindling fears of an inferno, a fiery drum.
To mow this meadow, what's the best play?
A herd of goats and sheep, grazing all day,
Heavy machinery falters on the steep hillside,
But sheep and goats revel, clearing the weed far and wide.
As the day wanes, the shepherd must truck,
His flock homeward bound, no time to luck.
Counted them all, or so he thought,
Yet, a darling ewe, Valentine's joy she sought.
Atop the hill, love's sweet rendezvous,
The shepherd found her, enjoying the view.
Cymbals and fireworks crisp and crescendo through the
black of night past the chrysanthemums displays
for the year of the Goat begins.
from the mainland Chinese tourist arrive
red cars, red money, red clothes, flame with wishes for
prosperity as displays descend
over Victoria harbor in Hong Hong.
pray the ghosts leave with the noise
and peace and prosperity descend
hang your red lanterns
paste red animals on your windows
pray the ghosts of years past leave in peace
sparklers
rockets
firecrackers
Technicolor displays animate the streets
pyrotechnics fill the air, shopping markets overflow
as unattainable commodities get packed back
to Xian, Beijing and Shanghai -
powdered milk dreams - a luxury attainable here
replace the rush to gunpowder displays
smoke coats the metal heavy air
as the crowds disperse for
a dumpling morning
parading creatures of past and present
awe and delight
Lion dancers snake, kick, drum,
feet beat to the gong in hong hong
and all of China
Sittin in a bar alone
I think of words I wrote.
Counting dollars on the wall
at a place they call The Goat.
The waitress took my order,
eyes shining like a star.
I ordered up some pancakes
from Christina at the bar.
Music touched my memories,
in the corner a TV.
Just outside the window
I could turn to see the sea.
Footprints in the snow outside
from lovers taking walks.
Just beyond the concrete wall
waves crashed against the rocks.
Former ways and yesterdays,
I looked in time to find.
Somewhere along the way back there
are the pieces of my mind.
And I'm sittin in a bar alone
thinkin bout the things I wrote.
Counting dollars on the wall
at a place they call The Goat.
Edwin C Hofert
An Old Goat in a boat rowed off shore.
He caught perch in his search and much more.
So full was his boat,
there's trout in his coat
Eau de fish was his scent evermore!
a/a/b/b/a 9/9/6/6/9
anapest meter
There once was a man,
Who carved him a boat.
It was out of the cheese,
That he milked from his goat.
The first one he failed,
So he made him a note.
Never use Swiss,
Because it won’t float!
A born disciplinarian
Should have been a librarian
Shame about her crazy wit
Not everyone understands that bit
An avid libertarian…
Contest: Zodiac Race
Placed: 8th
In the summer, some fans climb the walls
For a game that's been played many falls
And a player named Brady
Many folks found as shady
For some shifts in the size of his balls ...
An inspection made by Le Gendarme
Thus concluded, no cause for alarm
'Twasn't balls, frankly stated
Haters hopes were deflated
For the sake ... of his glorious arm!
~ 1st Place ~ in the "Celebrity Limerick" Poetry Contest, Tania Kitchin, Judge & Sponsor.