Best Proboscis Poems
Sanctus!
Sanctus!
Sanctus!
Unison of voices in floral cathedral
Viola and pansies, a chorus of daisies
Amarrylis Chrisanthemum Agapanthus
Cascades of colour inviting a crescendo
Yellow petalled flowers of the sun
Bowed in prayerful contrition
To the Great and glorious One
Agape throats of ululating halleluia
Victoriously perched in garden Getsemane
Infected the song of creatures on high
Flying flowers of the sky
Glorificamus Tè
Benedictimus Tè
Adoramus Tè
Here come the butterflies
Flitting and darting and dashing and fun
Unhinged and erratic in zigzagging flight
Probing proboscis a coiled searching spring
Suffronic powder cover their knees and their wings
Urgent the nectar! The burrowing bees
Assembly of beauty -I become undone
Annointing my spirit- unfurling my sight
Categories:
proboscis, beauty, color, flower, music,
Form:
Free verse
Santa, I have an important request.
Please don't embarrass me with ho ho hos.
If you'd looked at my face you might have guessed.
I'm serious about fixing my nose.
I can sense you are stifling your laughter.
Your bowl full of jello, nicely restrained.
Proboscis happily ever after,
Would not appear that it's been candy caned.
Hire a team of rhinoplasty surgeons.
I create damaging winds with this thing.
Like the limb of an oak tree it burgeons.
Just yesterday a blue jay perched to sing.
Hurry, Dear Santa, its growth won't abate.
Go talk to Rudolph, as he can relate.
***********************************
There may be some problems I must address.
Lies emitted from hole under my snout.
Pains me Santa, I readily confess.
Please be patient as I utter these out.
I lied to Sonya about her red dress.
Made her butt dwarf a Volkswagen fender.
I lied to the postman, my home address.
Marked the water bill "Return To Sender".
I fibbed a little to co-worker, Sue.
Her peanut butter cookies smelled like feet.
But tell me, what the heck was I to do?
I wrapped and hid it in a slice of meat.
Santa, I am a serial liar.
Instead of my pants, set my nose on fire.
***********************************
I'll do better if button nose gifted.
I promise to be more a straight shooter.
A smaller nose, my spirits be lifted.
Seriously, would you want this hooter?
The fibs I told did no permanent harm,
But if you would like I can change all that.
Who "nose"? I may lose my personal charm.
If I tell my friend Sonya she is fat.
If you leave money in an envelope,
I'll pay the water bill before it's due.
I can rub Sue's cookies with fragrant soap.
For a nose job, I will eat one or two.
Santa, I know you smell something is rot.
But I am here to assure you, it's snot.
Written 12/12/2017
"From My Lips to Santa's Ears"
Contest
Hosted by Phillip Garcia
Categories:
proboscis, christmas, holiday, humor, humorous,
Form:
Sonnet
A brown-winged Lepidoptera alights
My sweaty hand and tentatively flaps
Its delicate wings in morning sunlight.
What seemed to me a long time was perhaps
A moment or two that it lingered there.
It unfurled its proboscis and began
To dab and suck a sweat bead with great care
Unaware that it was the broth of Man.
I watched its skittish profile while it supped:
Its unblinking compound eye, antennae
Feeling the ambient air while lapping up
The last of the bead, turned and looked at me.
I said, hello you little butterfly
It then took flight and I uttered… good-bye!
Categories:
proboscis, nature
Form:
Sonnet
Majestic wings flutter in the air
over sweet blossoms that waft perfume.
Nodding heads affirm there’s nectar there
as a proboscis probes each new bloom.
Rays of golden sun paint velvet wings
clad in exquisite prisms of light
harboring beauty reserved for kings.
Bronze pastels are fringed with spots of white
uniquely applied by Nature's brush.
Terracotta orange wings take flight
their beauty causing flowers to blush.
Each butterfly’s an instant delight
richly ornate and regal in pose.
Fragile creatures that have little might
like a breeze, they go where the wind blows
yet seek milkweed wherever it grows.
Categories:
proboscis, beautiful, butterfly, imagery, nature,
Form:
Acrostic
(*Note- I suggest you read this with a boom box going in your head. Can you dig it?)
Yo,
Now gather round, my brothers ,settle down while I regale ya
with some tales about my lady from the kingdom Animalia,
and it's gonna take a while ,so listen up, coz there's a lotta
things I think you need to know about the Phylum Arthropoda.
Now, mah baby's got some colour and she's lookin' really cute
with her wings so finely tailored that you'd never find a suit
with such material so delicate and colours that just gleam
if you checked out what they sell in Rubenstein's in New Orleans.
Well, her six legs work together in a symphony of class
as from head down through her thorax she can really shake some ass,
though their fronts are smooth and silky, on her calves they're real spikey
food receptors on her feet so she ain't never wearing Nikes.
All the same she gives good lurvin', such a passionate embrace
though I wasn't too impressed first time I ever saw her face.
With her two big baby blues (and they're real mothers) compound eyes
I can never tell if she is checking out some other guys
and I'm careful when we kiss, as she has got one big proboscis
gotta make sure that ahm well away when every time she flosses.
Never saw her family photos and it's somethin' ah should miss
'coz her pupae was damn ugly and so was her Chrysalis.
Though we're going steady now I couldn't marry if I wanna
'coz she says in six month's time that she is going to be be a gonner.
And she only drinks from puddles, for the salts that appetize her
so I sit and watch and crack mahself a bottle of Budweiser.
Well I thank yo all for hearing me and listening to mah song
and I know to some my love affair may seem just slightly wrong
but I caught her eye and she moved in with just her heart to guide her
and I fell for her and we began to- hold on...DAMN! A SPIDER!!!
4th December 2015
For contest 'Butterflies- men only, sponsored by Skat A and Poet Destroyer A
Categories:
proboscis, butterfly, , cute,
Form:
Rhyme
This is my story…
A headless lighter, a writer
Mix up with silver long metallic
Make the agitations clear cold then warm
Neurons from above became so clear
I can hear my heartbeats like a doldrums
Because I’m just a woman with a perfect body
But now, it turned flat because of my past histories
My body was an image of different sceneries and echoes
That’s why I burned this five handed plant to disturb mosquitos
That anytime can suck my blood from within,
but their proboscis injected the smoke from the air
it became toxin for my veins, a bad effect to alter my inner beauty
and then the sensation…
Where am I?
This game was made by the influence of black society,
Their intentions were white but the grey matter strikes
Then now it became black…
My past that filled with conqueror, with their influence
They kidnapped my siblings, my children
My past that burdened with rapist
They took it all for me… everything…
And now… recollections…
The only way to forget these
Is by getting in again with their systems
Again use their solid potions
To forget everything, my life, my history, my spirit
Out of hue,
Every time.. again… I see myself in black, I knew
…
But all have their end point of time…
I want to find myself again… Where is Mary Jane?…
The real, new… Mary Jane of Barangay Tibay
I deduce, and then seduce it to bring back my old persona
To write another chapter...
but its too late..
I heard some footstep like a machinegun
In this dark room where I have surrendered
Since yesterday…
Is this because, now I realize the real meaning of life?
But he arbitrate that my half still in pain
And still…
Can a beast… can destroy the equity
from the green inferno?
In my instance, the beast coincide
Like a cannibal longing for a fresh meat
in the middle of extinction…
…
“Who are you?” “What are those?”
Mary Jane Said.
The looks were so unfamiliar
He grabbed me… he undressed me
He gave me what he think I deserve…
All became so clear….
Finally I met Him…
And there’s a red blanket everywhere
My heart starts to stop
My spirit try to comeback
But then…
I found myself at the ground,
And then he found a home inside my body
A grief for my grave
There’s no chance to paint back myself
Categories:
proboscis, abuse, addiction, anger, change,
Form:
Free verse
Food, food, glorious food
Eating is such a wonderful thing
No matter what time of day it is
Wolfing down makes my dear heart sing
Why I get out of bed each day
The smell of bacon frying away
Follow my proboscis to the kitchen
Where Cathie's prepares brekkie each day
It's that oh so heavenly smell
Footsies don't even touch the floor
Gliding down the stairs like a nymph
So enthralled like many mornings before
I sit down and dear dear Cathie
Serves me brekkie that's fit for a king
Burst out with, “What a Beautiful Morning”
As we both raise our voices and sing
A delightful scene, albeit unusual
It's how we Ellisons start off the morn
Singing and dancing and kissing and stuff
Makes me so overjoyed to be born
Food, food, glorious food
Eating is such a wonderful thing
No matter what time of day it is
Wolfing down makes my dear heart sing
© Jack Ellison 2014
Categories:
proboscis, humorous,
Form:
Quatrain
Dear Miss Monkey Manners, I’m in need of your advice,
My boyfriend is a swinger and he isn’t very nice.
I’m a Proboscis Monkey so I exhibit a very prominent schnoz.
And the proposition that he put to me caused me to take pause.
He said that I’d make a perfect mate if I’d under go a tweak,
He wants me to go under the knife and get a larger beak.
But the nose that I was born with is my pride and joy,
And I really don’t want to change it especially for a boy.
He tells me that he loves me and that he’d immediately propose,
If only I would agree to see a doctor and get a bigger nose.
My Dear Gentle Nosey Nelly here’s the reply to your query,
I’m afraid that your boyfriend doesn’t see you very clearly.
If he did I am sure that he would see you as more than just a nose,
There is much more to a woman than the parts that she’ll expose.
So if he hasn’t figured out that what’s important is your heart,
Don’t let yourself be persuaded by him to change your body part.
Unless altering your looks will somehow bring you satisfaction,
Because his view of perfection is nothing more than an abstraction.
Be happy with who you are, a proud Proboscis monkey,
Just make sure whatever you do you don’t let yourself get chunky.
Categories:
proboscis, funny, me, boyfriend, boyfriend,
Form:
Light Verse
A swarm of mosquitoes there was
Of different ethnic origin, language and culture.
Aedes, anopheles, culex and others
Some fragile, some agile and some avaricious,
The anopheles was the most fragile but avaricious.
This human, they set eyes on,
She was in possession of everything they needed
And in want of nothing.
So because of her possessions, they attacked her
And she being weak, could do nothing to defend herself.
And so with their proboscis, they sucked her blood,
For many a year, she was continuously being sucked.
As she was being sucked, so was she being bitten,
Some bites were gentle, others, excruciating.
But with God on her side, she stood on her feet.
The wind of change gently blew some mosquitoes away
Others clung tight, for they were desperate
But the human started agitating for her freedom
So the remaining mosquitoes reluctantly left.
But alas!!!! She has been sucked semi dry
She started labouring to regain herself back
Just as the lazy anopheles mosquitoe came back
As the other mosquitoes went and continued their lives,
The anopheles discovered it couldn’t survive alone
So it came back through lies and deceit to suck more blood
And from that same human, it continued sucking blood,
It will come as if to make peace
Between the body parts; but that’s a pretext.
It truly came for blood and more blood
The anopheles mosquitoe knows it can’t live without the blood
But it can never accept that fact
Because of its dirty pride.
It is the laziest of all the mosquitoes
Because it depends solely on the human
If the human doesn’t open her eyes
And with zeal, fight back,
The anopheles will suck her with no mercy.
NO HUMAN, NO ANOPHELES MOSQUITOE
NO AFRICA, NO FRANCE
Categories:
proboscis, africa, satire,
Form:
Blank verse
The grey mists of a sleeping dawn, cosetting birds still
wrapped up warm in bed, watch a stoat emerge from
its burrow and sprint across his meadow, like a caterpillar
making humped back bridges in Concertina motion
The stoat approaches the discarded shape and sniffs it
for signs of danger, life and food. In that order. Looming
like mountains on the ground and covered in a Turin
Shroud of frost, are a child's pair of crumpled denim blue
jeans, vapoured brittle-stiff with ice crystals overnight from
the nearby stream . Which still wends it's course beneath
ice-capped plates, upon which faux steam rises up like
volcanic springs.
The shape also manifests a pair of very small dumpster boots,
made for the tough little boy of tomorrow. The set is
completed by a vibrant red jumper, a little too big for the lifeless
form it covers. This hoar, this frost of disjointed frozen dendrites,
rests calmly upon this physical testament to the now peaceful
soul that lies within. Whose lungs beneath lie dormant and past
caring, whether or not the air is fresh and cold on its failed
breath. Alibaster-marbeled skin profers one hand raised in a
Post mortem wave. And a lid's refusal to fully shut one eye,
desperate to remain in contact with a living world and deny
the truth of having passed. What the eye has really become is
a dull reflective mirror for the twitching movements of an inquisitive
proboscis. This draws the eye of a man, standing at a man's
full height, able to see across two hundred paces of a frost
bitten meadow and light upon the vivid colour of red, set against
a backdrop of rime white. Eventually, a voice from the ether
confirms the location by a frozen stream and supports the
recommendation to keep the mother away. The devastation
of a hundred heart-stopping caught breaths yet to be lived.
Before the tears can flow and the utter destruction begin
The startled stoat runs away from its own reflection. Back
to the warmth and safety of its hole, in the bank on the Stream.
And the grey mists sadly watch the final act, before its last few
screaming tendrils are burned away on the coming sun
Categories:
proboscis, children, death,
Form:
Free verse
Why did Noah take nits?
Let's pull this Ark to bits,
God let Noah take two nits,
Plus two mosquitoes, each proboscis,
Gave humans encephalitis,
What is worse than this?
Why they bring malaria, blip!
What is worse than this?
As well as Noah's two nits,
God let Noah take two rats,
With two fleas on board, that's that,
So Noah brought bubonic plague,
While lovely unicorns floated away,
Then on all those wooden decks,
Noah took two woodpeckers, by heck,
So that was the end of Noah's Ark,
Lucky he wasn't eaten by sharks,
So, why God, did you plan all this, mate?
I know Noah was human to make mistakes,
Taking rats, fleas, mossies, and nits, great!
Was taking two nits more than fate?
Categories:
proboscis, allusion, funny, humor, imagery,
Form:
Free verse
Never let an elephant in your house
Get a rabbit or a lemur or a mouse
If you’re going to buy a pet
And you haven’t got one yet
Never, let an elephant in your house
Never let an Elephant in your lounge
He will beg and he will pester, he will scrounge
With his oversized proboscis
He's more trouble than rhinoceros
Never, let an Elephant in your lounge
Never let an elephant in your bed
Make him sleep out, maybe in the garden shed
If you let him in your pit
He will fidget, quite a bit
Never, let an Elephant in your bed
© John W Fenn 03-01-2009
Categories:
proboscis, animals, funny, imagination, nature,
Form:
Light Verse
I Slept with a Female Mosquito..... By Peter Onyancha
(part I)
I Slept with a Female Mosquito.
Waking up, Good morning, but goodness!
Stupid lewd fly; family of the blood sucker
Fretful, I study the plumped mosquito
My science talks to me, unfaltering
My eye bulges and I nod, I see, I understand
Pretentious snout, proboscis, piglet wishes, I nod
Crooked legs, Ague grass hopper
Supporting a red load, Oh lord
Overladen rotund raw bottom, I see
Drooping head, like a sniffer dog
Satisfied silence, night accrued quietness
Anopheles! I scream –
She clutches tighter on the net; what next?
The scandalous vampire, ague hawker
A female mosquito, Anopheles
I lay flat, you lay fat
Goiter! I slept.
Categories:
proboscis, political
Form:
Narrative
Pachyderm Extinction Party
Two American parties of politics each have a mascot,
Either choice as sensible as picking a sasquatch.
One a pachyderm the other a ass,
The former officially adopted by the party of impasse.
It is too bad this proboscis beast has been picked
By accident of history this party to depict;
One whose furtherance of business as usual
Will destroy this world by treating everything as a consumable.
Whether the logo represents Asian or African species is unclear;
Likely Republicans don’t know or seem not to give a tear.
Jumbos are killed every 15 seconds, extinction soon to be it’s fate,
All for powder and trinkets made from hacked off tusks sold at a high rate.
G.O.P. would not lift a finger to protect this mammoth animal
For this would infringe on rights to make capitol.
Preventing it from being hunted to the last individual
Would slow their campaign to make this world unlivable.
Contest - Giant Animals
Sponsor – Nathan D.
8/30/2015
Categories:
proboscis, america, animal, earth, environment,
Form:
Rhyme
Whatever stirs the tips of copper and urges buds to swell
comes with the suns expanding heat, a welcome spring induce,
for the urge is now returning from survivors of the winter
to prepare accomplishment in nature’s drive to reproduce.
Proboscis touching nectar in the reds and gold’s and blues,
plus other hues; a jewel that flits and dies on it’s third day,
aware its progeny exists where wattlebird and wrens keen-eyed
scan through the boughs and foliage seeking out their prey.
In the multitude of leaves upon our garden shrubs and trees,
where leaves of chlorophyll become necessities for being,
but contentment with our vibrant garden (which is not a natural home)
turn to sadistic battlegrounds with two parties disagreeing.
For unseen there in this greenery with a natural camouflage
of needed stripes, spots and shapes, for the grazer to survive -
out comes a dust and spray or powder; quite offensive to the land
to obliterate one single insect, but leave nothing there alive.
Lying curled and twisted on the ground; unthinking in this victory,
that death of beauty in it's early stage be destroyed without detection.
Guilty of two months destruction, pruning trees a little ragged
in our world of perfect angles with no time for imperfection.
When beak and claw complete their cull, move on and kill no more,
and genocide is over - thank God - a miss has just let one slip by
to transform and look so harmless in its chrysalises form …
preparing now for metamorphosis - to become a butterfly.
Categories:
proboscis, nature,
Form:
Rhyme