Best Rex Poems
During the Mesozoic times
There was a T-rex named T. Rhymes
His tiny teeth he was hiding
Afraid of bullying and chiding.
His mother said “We don’t need big.”
His daddy said, “We don’t eat pig.”
Stegosaurus said “If they make fun of you
I will show them the bottom of my shoe.”
This made him laugh and play
And took these feelings all away.
So you see, in the absolute end.
All it takes is a really great friend!
Written 6-30-2019 Contest: Dinosaur for Children Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Line Gauthier
Max the Rex
I had a cat whose name was Max the Rex
A grumpy cat so fat so mean and large
His paws would tear up all my costly rugs
His personality aloof and smug
Except when he would feel the urge to eat
He’d purr and mew and rub against my feet
And after feeding run into his keep
Then snuggle up and drift into a sleep
Sometimes I wish he’d leave and not return
And then one day he went outside to roam
Gone for awhile we hoped that he’d find his home
And then one day we heard a mew somewhere
And there was Max with none the worst to see
From that day on he’s sweet as he can be
Beloved Pet Contest Francine Roberts
Ralph Sergi June 14, 2015
Rex the hermit crab carried a trashed shell
that reeked with a horribly rotten smell.
He intently scrubbed
till his claws were nubbed
then resolved to move into a hotel.
Copyright © 2010 By Caryl S. Muzzey
Sixth Place Winner ~ "Sea Tale Limericks” Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Carolyn Devonshire
March 4, 2010
Tyrannosaurus
Moonlight dances were joyous
They made a ruckus
By Robb A. Kopp
All Rights Reserved © MMX
Tyrannosaurus!
Formerly an ancient King,
Now wooden sculpture...
He danced on the decks of tossing ships, danced only for dimes
He danced to the lash and sound of whips, hip moving like dream
And when he reasoned, his words sublime brought heavenly climes
Dance from plantation to Greathouse, dancing in gully and stream
And if we dance again today, he choreographs nuance and fiber
Still; this talented son, this bright native of the Martha Brae River.
He is the twin soul of that Manley, our horizons in the sun
And when at Mona, he taught me how to run with my ton.
O farewell, brother of my brother, mentor that from your distance shape
Me into a patriotic landscape where my children may build, farewell
Sweet intellect; and O may they bring our Mframadan like cloth to drape
Your rest. All your public life was nobly spent, farewell, Rex, farewell!
Your footprints are bright, not castles in sand, from high hills shine
The glory of your days. O Griot, go the bidding now of the Divine
O Blow the abeng now, beat the kumina drum, O village peel
The bells of jubilee again. Aluta Continua, Rex, go take your seal!
Mi mumma band her belly and bawl long time, yai water like rain
Hot like Clarendon springs, and the world like blue mountain mist
So cold, O emptiness, emptiness is such a dread, O such a pain
What shall we do with out hollowness now, and how shall we resist
Again the shackles of injustice, O that there were Marley
To sing this icon into the icon of memory, for all our history
Is but words on a page until we can retrieve the past to right
Today and make tomorrow bright again. He was that light.
Coda
O Kilmanjaro weep! O Timbuctu weep! O Meroe and kujo's clan
Weep for the death of man, a sterling man, a grandiose design
That met its worth in gold in deeds of him. All our life is like sand
Worn from the rock of being by tides and seasons, and no sign
To tell where wind or water carry us, we are blown away
The shadow of the sand is gone, but never cannot decay
It is too immaterial, its presence is like his fragrance here
Bill still O Niger, and you great Nile, I borrow you for a tear.
MY ROARING T-REX
A vicious angry growl
The pounding of feet on the ground
The sound of munching but in scowl
Looking for bigger bite and cast around
Hiding for awhile and suddenly showed
In the webcam, he grinned broadly
Making way to show his world
Just for playful fun and talk fondly
Come out, come out my roaring T-rex
Come out, come out show me your reflex
I am in the mood to run and be chased
And caught in my little son’s embraced
You are my roaring T-rex in the chat room
Roaring is your way to make me smile
It’s always perfect and laughter in boom
A moment I would always want to reconcile
31 October 2014
TYRANNOSAURUS REX
©rajat kanti chakrabarty
10 November, 2014
Tyrannosaurus rex
be careful of her teeth nose and tail
she may catapult egg
My veins now spill forth scarlet waters,
Rent by serrated silver teeth.
Like Her breast sinewed all life,
Fervoured my wrist, when She jilted me...
Repleted by once Her love;
Now became Death, a nocturnal drapery...
"My Goddess What didst Thou to me,
Lust priapic to Thine ardent ****?''
A sylph bewinged like an Angel,
That withered love infected me...
A morbid plume falling from grace,
The celestial eye ebonied.
"My Love; Doth thou not want me?
Hath I becometh a Daemon?"
...
No...
this blooded brine, mortal wine,
this etch on my pale canvas.
is nothing more but a single sign,
To pain's anathema,
-yet you my love...
Will nascent from my blood,
and be robed in ether cardinal...
My suicide, although it's sin
Will leave you happy with akin.
My body was a tumour around my soul,
but waning life, will take control...
He heard the car and came running,
Jumped and whirled in the air,
Barking his happiness!
Dad lifted her down in her yellow-flowered
Camisole and high heeled shoes.
The dog dropped,
His hind quarters hunched down,
Body sprung parallel to the ground,
Ears laid back, hackles raised.
He'll get used to you, Dad said,
Tapping him with his foot.
But he didn't. She was afraid.
Big black shepherd, watching stalking.
The dog lay there with the chain
Stretched out, eyes riveted
On the back door of the house.
She didn't like it. What if he gets loose
When you're not here?
I can't even go to the garden
Without his eyes on my back!
Dad put a piece of meat in her hand.
The black nose ever so slightly withdrew.
-Eat it, growled Dad, and he did
With a long slow tongue,
Looking up from under reproachful brows.
But it was spoiled.
Dad couldn't stand it that
The dog wouldn't mind.
He kicked it and it trailed after him,
But still froze when the woman came outside.
He just couldn't give it up.
They had to shoot the dog.
The yellow and brown and red leaves
Were falling and sticking together
On the path into the woods.
A light drizzle added to the metallic shine.
They walked along the slippery surface,
The two of them,
With the rifle and the spade.
The dog jogged on ahead,
Looking back over his shoulder,
Smiling at the routine he is familiar with.
It only takes a minute
Once you reach the back fence.
You have to do it fast if you're going to.
You can talk out-loud afterward,
Explaining while you dig him in.
That way he doesn't have to see it.
The ground is not yet frozen.
Dad smooths it over and already
Leaves begin to drift across the bare soil.
Deliberately, one by one,
He places his feet on the returning path,
Looking up through the sketches
Of black tree limbs against the sky.
He feels stiff and sore.
Leaning the gun against the grain bin,
He pulls down a bottle
From the low rafter overhead.
A couple of swigs before he goes inside.
This is not the story they told me.
The dog's name was Rex.
Dad pointed to an old photograph
In the box of old photographs.
-Good ol' Rex, he said.
There once was a Jackosaur Rex;
His peers were all quivering wrecks.
And he ate so much meat
That the size of his feet
Were loved by the opposite sex.
jackosaur drinks
at the edge of the swamp - -
herbivores run
for PD’s dinosaur contest
I have seen this river swell mighty
Like a woman with fetus near to come
I have seen it lift its burden heavy
Cottaless and laughing in its kingdom
But to today is a different rainy day
Nothing wash the brown of sorrows away
O hear the river lament in its clay
For its son, its only son has passed away
I have seen this river in tropic glee
Dancing down the mountain in childhood
Pushing back the angry colonial sea
O nothing could compare to its manhood
But today is a different rainy day
Sorrow is a hurricane in the fish pool
Where his eloquence held lofty sway
Our favored son, our star bright mule
O my heart too carries sorrow like a river
He was model, mentor, brother keeper
My island's best gold when love was silver
In sun or moon, or sweet translucent water
I hear abeng wailing, jon kunno bawling
O today is a different rainy day
Mframadan come down your pole crawling
Weep with us, weep with Martha Brae
Did you hear this Rex talk, or see him dance
Did you know this scholar, this special son
Did you sit in his class and dream in trance
With this son, the Shaman of the olive sun?
O today is a different rainy day
Today is the day of tears and broken heart
I want to hear the drums of Martha Brae
Weeping in Kumina where the waters part.
T Rex - a compendium
I asked the T Rex why he looked rather glum
He said I’ve this lovely sharp claw on my thumb
But life's such a b.itch
My butt’s got an itch
And I simply can’t reach my own bum
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
T Rex gave his lady a peck
She said honey please kiss my neck
He liked her all right
So he gave a love bite
And that’s when her head hit the deck
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Jurassic Park was too dear for us
We snuck in dressed all ‘stegosaurus’
We’re now not sure whether
That idea was clever
That T Rex ain’t gonna ignore us
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Tyrone was a tyrannosaurus
Who fancied a big brontosaurus
Her name was Gillian
Their love was reptilian
The details are too sordid for us
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
He hunted that Jurassic coast
For the primeval prey he loved most
The sky overhead
Went fiery red
Alas pretty soon he was toast
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Buddgelin Bey – Translation of Rex Marshall’s « Buddgelin Bey » by T. Wignesan
(Rex Marshall, b. July 16, 1943 at Grafton, belongs to the aboriginal tribe, Thungutti/Gumbaingeri of the Baryulgil
Reserve in New South Wales. He studied up to 6th grade in primary schools and then set himself the task of working for the betterment of aboriginals. The Hardy company’s asbestos mine, situated right in the centre of the reserve, accounted for the deaths (through asbestos poisoning ; l’amiante in French) of many miners and their family members. Asbestos tailings were used for covering roads. Rex Marshall and his fellow kinsmen then set up the Aboriginal Embassy in 1972 in order to draw international attention to « the racist oppression and covert genocide of Aboriginals. » He served on various aboriginal organizations for the uplift of his peoples, both on the regional and national levels. (Inside Black Australia, 1988). T. Wignesan, Paris, December 12, 2016 .
Les nuages noirs s’amoncellent loin dans le ciel
D’un moment à l’autre l’orage va s’éclater
Et Maman le tient à l’œil sans cligner des yeux
En tenant l’hache dans ses mains et en gardant les deux pieds
bien firmes sur le sol
Enfin elle se prépare pour se défendre
Contre le vent déchainé et la pluie se tombant tout autour
En accordance avec ses coutumes, elle devait couper les
nuages orageux
Pendant qu’elle agitait l’hache en chantant avec toute
vigueur
Un rite qu’elle avait hérité de sa tribu
Cette coutume qu’elle pratiquait toute fière d’elle-même
Elle acheva le rite en poussant le cri : « Buddgelin Bey ! »
L’orage est bien sûr dissipé.
© T. Wignesan – Paris, 2016
Tirelessly rising, like cerosee tea to them, and apple to me
Tell them I am the Sankofa of the morning, shall we dance again
I was the Nightingale Midas could keep in the cage, the new sea
To sail, the festival beyond the extravaganza of old pain
Trim sail and bottle torch, but never weep with dry eyes
Bring flag and Mframadan down the pole and skies
Tell them the river journeys on, it comes for me
I am its harvest, I am its fruit, I am its Gethsemane.
ii
You young ones must away from your rage to my age tree
Take this stick of light, this magic of wisdom, this bright sage
Carry him like an argument to Pharaoh’s face and so see
Deliverance from the bloody seas of dumb guns and carnage
Let us dismantle the sorrow of ignorance, the need that chains
Us to the deaf ears of our broken and eternal complaints
For this native son, this black beautiful scholar was our wage
And from this griot and dancer we take the lessons of our age.
And always may I remember I am only a branch, I belong to a tree
Bigger than my baobab of dreams, I drink from where roots draw
The sweet water of revival, and quenched my thirst for history
And boons of culture. Always I now write for us, I write our law
Yet tongueless tongue-ing in Babel’s callous kingdom
Belly grinder, I rise to dance in new sheaves of freedom
The whip crack on black backs the sun could not dim
Cannot stop the clutchie smoking memory of him