Best Pig Poems
Pigs that swim the Caribbean aren't just silly rumors,
Polly is just such a pig, from the island of Exumas ...
Oh, Polly loves the water so, her family loves it, too,
Always tepid, crystal clear, and bright Bahamian blue.
It may seem quite unusual, for swine to EVER swim,
Stranger still, what Polly does as day is growing dim.
Tho' she loves the water, her favorite thing's the sky,
Yes, Polly has a special gift, as she knows how to FLY!
She tries to keep it quiet, not upstage her family's act,
For many are the tourists that swimming pigs attract.
She always waits until the sun is far 'neath the horizon,
A canopy of midnite stars is the sky that Polly flies in.
Her favorite time to fly is when the moon is full and pale,
The Caribbean breezes are what curl her piglet tail ...
Winging 'neath the Milky Way, riding moonbeams, bright,
Spinning with a loop-the-loop, doing pirouettes in-flight.
To dive and tickle wave-tops and make her hoof-trails glow,
To Hop from cloud to puffy cloud - count islands far below.
Her family thinks she's "flighty", and rather out-of-hand
But any pig who doesn't fly, isn't apt to understand ...
She loves to be with family and friends upon the beach,
But Polly's home is with the sky, soaring reach-to-reach.
So, if you someday make that trip to Polly's native isle ...
Find a hammock, rest your feet, and watch the sky a while.
You may not catch her flying, very few have had the thrill,
But if you're patient and you're lucky, WHEN PIGS FLY ...
Perhaps you will!
~ 1st Place ~ in the "Your Choice Light Verse (Wit, Humor, Wordplay, Puns)" Poetry Contest, Brian Strand, Judge & Sponsor.
~ 1st Place ~ in the "Honoring Dr Seuss" Poetry Contest, Michelle Faulkner, Judge & Sponsor.
Just a regular curbside puddle,
It really wasn't that big.
But it had the look of an ocean,
To a sweet little puppy named 'Pig.'
"Your paws might touch the water,
No chances that you will drown."
Pig looked at his master- all crazy,
And was frozen like ice to the ground.
"It's only a wee-bit of a puddle,
You'll easily make the grade."
But Pig wasn't ready to listen,
He stood there and was very afraid.
On a leash Pig's brand new owner,
Tried in vain to nicely persuade.
But Pig just wouldn't listen,
To pleas that his new person made.
Again -"it's only a little puddle,
You really won't get very wet.
You could see Pig was thinking,
"Wets wet! And I'm not ready yet."
"But the water is only a trickle,
If you try you'll see you can wade."
No matter all the sweet talking,
That pup just couldn't be swayed.
The pup felt a tug on the leash,
The water was coming too near.
So Pig started his squealing,
And squealing was all you could hear.
Discouraged -his person relented,
And lifted the scaredy-cat Pup.
He bypassed the wee little puddle,
And lost, by picking Pig up.
I wanted the end to be funny,
With a moral to find I could spin.
Yep, a guy with a pup he'd name 'Pig,'
Has a pup that is smarter than him.
I have a fat and furry friend
All pink and spotty black.
I grew him from some Camembert-
The smelly little Rat!
He is my very Mouse-Pig
For that’s his very name,
Sometimes I call him Roger
Just like his steptwin Shane.
I like to give him all I can
Though humble poor are we.
I gave him a good character-
2 slices for his tea.
I love my little Mouse-Pig
I love him like a pet.
Sometimes I take him out for walks
And sometimes to the vet.
I dare not let him venture far
For fear he won’t come back.
Last week he almost wandered off
Without his packymac.
‘You’ll catch your death- or even worse!’
I warned in worried tone.
‘There’s things out there what likes to eat
A Mouse-Pig far from home.
‘Don’t worry Dad,’ he answered back
In usual piggy chatter.
‘If anyone should have a go
I’ll cover them in batter!’
Then all at once, without a sound
He sang with all his might.
I’ve never heard a Mouse-Pig
I said in wondrous sight.
‘That’s nothing Pa,’ he mouthed in tune,
And leaping to his trotters
Declared as he flew flying off-
I’ll show those dirty rotters!’
‘Farewell my fat and furry friend,’
I bellied to the sky,
And turning one last time he squeaked,
‘I’m off to find my sty.’
And then he flew right out of sight,
As far as I could see,
And with a little shedding tear
I went in for my tea.
The pig overheard the farmers conversation,
talking about their crops and needing weather salvation,
the farmers saying "it'll probably rain when pigs fly!,"
to help out the pig thought he'd give it a try,
He wallowed out of his mud and snuck around,
to the inside of the barn not making a sound,
climbing up the ladder to the hayloft above,
he wished someone would help him by giving him a shove,
But then he cast all fear and anxiety aside,
with a running start he thought he would glide,
alarmed he fell down to the earth with a thud,
wishing he had never left the confines of his mud,
He was slightly bruised as well as his pride,
thanking God he had a pretty thick hide,
thinking wait till he tells his friends that are so dear,
to "not believe everything that you hear!"
2-24-17
My Fable~
Pig a billa
Good tucker is ol pig-billa,
Porcupine Echidna hey,
Favourite food of Aboriginals,
Has him own spears anyway,
Track him cross the hot red sand,
Which way does he go, today,
Claws on his back legs are a pointing,
Where he come from, there we say,
Dead possum hanging oer the water,
Maggots falling soon they may,
Yellow belly sucks em sorta,
Big ol Cod could eat em hey,
Marbuk silent as a Gum-tree,
Waits with fishing plurry spear,
See the flash of yella-belly, see,
Him on the coals to sear!
Swish of killer boomerang,
As the wild ducks leave the water,
Pelted as a hundred swam,
Got a Shag hook nosed just sorta,
Break-em wing as it leaves the water,
Bloody tough meat make you chew,
Yarraman is a horse you see,
Milinbri beast of cattle, be,
Crocodile he waits for you,
Don’t swim where he will maybe chew,
After the death roll kills you, oughta,
Fresh meat ol tourist brought ya,
To Cape York for interview.
Ole Croc can get you too!
Sidestep this frenzy slaughter….
Whatever ya bloody do.
Ole Johnson the reporter …Don
Purple Guinea Pig
Growl growl bite bite goes the guinea pig
As she rips out your fecking throat
The fierce guinea pig purple in colour
Not to be fecked with or name called
She'll hunt you down and kill ya!
And talks like a real American
The purple guinea pig who growls
Straight from the chest
Hear her and you're screwed
Get ready to be eaten
Purple guinea pig style!
CC 191 2020
JIMMY BOOM SEMTEX
The day my life went so crazy
Was when I laid eyes on Daisy
She was an old sow
Who mooed like a cow
And drove all farmhands crazy
We tried to put her in a field
But sadly that pig wouldn’t yield
She’d sit down in her sty
And she wouldn’t comply
Her stubbornness would be revealed
I said Daisy you will come a cropper
The farmer will get you with a chopper
Daisy sat and chewed grass
And got mud on her a s s
Soon Daisy became quite a whopper
Old farmer Bill sharpened his knife
And showed the honed blade to his wife
He said it is time now
I must kill a fat sow
His poor wife just ran for her life!
The farmer went out to the shed
When Daisy saw him how just fled
She hid behind a bull
To escape a quick cull
I’m relieved there was no bloodshed!
N/A in The Day My Life Went Whacko Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Caren Krutsinger
03/28/30
Porky Pig once stopped by my butcher shoppe
Pig was not looking for any old slop
He searched high and low
Meat tasted like crow
'Please, Elmer, one pound of strings from your mop’
There once lived a hog
Who thought he was a dog
He tried his hardest to bark
Which made him a little hoarse
Which is ridiculous, of course
Because he was a pig from the start
“There is nothing worse than ignorance in motion” Goethe
Roaming round the white altars
Where pharaohs raised their arms
The black pig of ignorance
Casts a passing shadow
Across the shafts of Lotus columns
Erect Egyptian guardians of stillness
Watching undisturbed over eternal time
There once was a pig who would try,
To jump off the ground and to fly,
The result was the same,
'Til he bought a plane,
And left his friends waving goodbye!
I am a pig, and that's all I'll ever be.
Just like you're human, and that's what I strive to be.
Seriously, though, call me ungrateful, but pig food?
Do you humans know what pig food is?
It's leftovers, man. Freaking leftovers.
Yeah, of course I'm going to inhale them,
It's free food. Who says no to free food?
Oh, and have you seen my house?
It's made out of oak, and its pretty sturdy, sure, until it rots,
And where the heck are my windows? You have windows. Why don't I have windows?
And no door? Give me some privacy? Kidding, it gets freaking cold out here,
And all I have are these bundles of hay. Hey, did your granny knit you that quilt?
I mean, you put me thru all of this just to get slaughtered?
Just to call me Roast, or Bacon, like Roast and Bacon Sr. before me?
Maybe I'm just ranting. Maybe I don't have it that bad. I mean, look at the veterans.
Look at the way they eat from dumpsters, and the way they don't eat,
And then look at the way I'm eating organic waste off the plates of neighbors.
Oh, and look at the way I am now, snuggled in a corner, my head poking out
Of cozy stacks of hay,
And then look at the way Crazy Mason makes a pillow out of the curb.
Just look at the way he dies for no reason, and how he isn't remembered.
I know for sure that when Farmer Jon is scarfing me down,
He'll remember every grit that went into me.
And I'm damn sure he won't forget how good I tasted.
Although gay women are attractive,
Can their love be counted on,
A chemistry that’s non-reactive,
Oligarchs of Amazon?
They face perhaps same traps that we do
Think of men as only drone,
An inverse baby kind of voodoo
Makes weak labeled sex to groan.
Where all good jobs are matriarchal
Confident they know what’s best,
A standing joke the patriarchal,
Litmus test for world unrest.
The thought’s out there this might be right on
Most know men have lost the race
Is ‘Women Better’ just a long con,
Bankrupt hyssop’s sexist’s face?
Misogynistic choices kill love
‘Death to men’ no better prayer,
While teamwork puts the hand in glove,
Seems to matter both are there.
Are women victim’s of man’s error?
Most men raised by woman’s side?
Small boys ignoring all their terror,
Little men, their country’s pride.
Men seem to rule, but die in battle
Block what festers deep inside
Then led to slaughter just like cattle
‘Free’ state purchased with their hide.
A girl I loved once had obsession
Wanted more to be like man
A mom at war with her depression,
Made this seem a better plan.
I can’t report she had much luck though
One girlfriend would beat her up
A flower dressed in man’s tuxedo
Life remained a half-filled cup.
But is it nature, is it nurture
Leads us to our confused art?
Heed dying gasp of cloaked John Bircher
Even Bible plays its part!
If life for others is what you choose
This can’t guarantee you’ll win
For life in faith means you could still lose
Doing good can still be sin!
A pig, a poke, that’s all you get,
Some joy, calamity, and yet
If God is dead, get real, get hip,
There’s sure release in death’s strong grip
As poet, I see humor in
This tale I spin, the life of men
God’s presence in man’s history
And Grace that spices mystery
For human love I know exists,
In spite of pain, it still resists
The certain coming of death’s call,
Though life be short, it is your all!
Brian Johnston
February 5, 2015
I is as dirty as dirty can be
Cause I is just a pig you see
I wallow around in my lovely sty
Your cleanliness rules just don’t apply
I love the mud, that gooey stuff
And as to the odor, I can’t get enough
The stuff they feed me, you call it slop
Well, I think it’s great, really tip- top
I have no worries, no not a one
But the dog just said ,”Go on, have fun-
For if I’m not mistaken,
You soon will be bacon..”
2/18/16
My guinea pig
With the black and brown stripes
And the eyes big and black like space
And tiny little ears
That perk up when he hears the food come.
My guinea pig
Who sits on my lap
As I read, or just watch him
As he shifts tring to find a comfortable position
As he squeaks
In happiness
Or annoyance
Or a thousand other emotions
My guinea pig
Who eats all day
And all night
And when he's done
He eats some more