Best Ruminants Poems
Of the Earth - Earthy
Of the earth….”earthy”
Hell, he was filthy,
a veritable organic “Pig Pen”
complete with dust trail.
The trees “high fived” him
as he walked, quietly,
respectfully, among them.
Forest ruminants contemplated
his simplicity, predators
welcomed his scent,
the earth rejoiced
at his footfalls.
John G. Lawless
3/5/2016
Categories:
ruminants, children, earth, environment,
Form:
Free verse
There is, in the Los Angeles area, a well-known brand of milk, called Alta Dena. Near also,
is the city named Alta Dena, and my grandson lives there. I asked him if he had seen the dairy there, and he told me that it does not exist. I then asked him if he had seen herds of milk cattle there and he said that he had not, and doubted that there were any. Of course I wondered why the milk had such a name, and jokingly asked him to look for at least one cow in the city, since it was well built-up, and there were no obvious open pastures at all. I told him that we could only conclude that it this had to b a very famous and rare cow that could supply all the milk needed by a large urban dairy, and thus must be insured, protected from the idle public, and secreted in some private home where she would not be disturbed. The whole story and speculation grew into a riotous family "search" for this wondrous animal. I, of course, ask my grandson each week when I see him, for a progress report on the search. Finally, I have decided to turn it into a poem:
A Search Continues
Something very hush-hush is going on
and Alta Dena folk aren't going to tell.
All cowdom secreted within its bovine lair
yet Bo would stare contentedly at us
with no incursive moo directed at the hellish
vine that she must eat, in lieu of meadow grass.
That ever-present cud must still
be masticated; yea, her celebrated udder
must be filled.
Yet none admit to having sighted her.
Beastiana though she be, no Altadenian
will dare so much as low on her behalf,
no bull, Eden-bound, is ready to exchange
his bold, testicular desire
to service mewling ruminants
who merely run away.
Nay, uncowed are they, though cowed they be,
and cowards not--and if you do not see
their wisdom, chalk it up to power,
Bo's mammary magnificence, so easily
in jeopardy before a single squeeze,
not of a nipple but a trigger
thus applied, and speeding out of sight.
Challenge, indeed, our quest to find
this noble and prolific queen
who dominates with graceful quietude
her milky empire slurping quite
without a care, lush liquid destined
not to slosh within her, rather
in those tumescent tummies
ever crying out for more.
Would I betray them for a share?
Of course. Away with those content
to sour the milk of human kindness
with deception. Let the search go on!
~
Categories:
ruminants, humor,
Form:
Free verse
The verdant leaves
of the cherry trees
rustle as a wagon
loaded with corn
rides deeper into the wide ruts
of a rustic road,
hungry ruminants wallow
by a limpid lake;
cheerful kids wave
and wagtails warble
at my unexpected arrival...
suddenly my Dalmatian barks.
O jovial Autumn
incite my surprise,
and renew my decadent mood!
The grapevines rest
while giving off their fragrance,
and this weary steed
must rest in tranquility
to continue this journey...
before he pants-up grief;
and for mine and his sake,
let him get some sleep!
A sanguine sky
promises the loveliest sunset
ever seen by me
in this rustic Vermont landscape;
thrushes sing with me
to embellish my harmony,
not minding the crickets that
conspire in the hickories,
or the fluttering hawks
that return to their nests..
Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci
Categories:
ruminants, music, nature, peace, places,
Form:
Pastoral
Love can be looked at, as an abstract
and can seem like an artifact, encased in a crusted bundle,
buried somewhere deep waiting to be discovered
Love is found and excavated, gently brushing the ruminants away
trying not disturb the true essence that was neatly preserved
Now, Love can be displayed, so people can see that
even though it can be still, It can always be real
If only you can believe that love can be, indeed
Categories:
ruminants, love, love,
Form:
Rhyme Royal
An ending vision without the sun
In opened streets
To where did you run
With meager vowels
A sudden stench
That favors clean towels
Beauty arose to become you
You became it’s lovely tyrant
Visions disclosed
We grew ever so silent
Indeed you ran
Children of this lost land
Did you find comfort
Within a strangers hand
Afford you could not
His supplied demand
When belief is distinguished
What becomes of a beleaguered man
The ruminants of an eager and pitied fool
With empty palms and scared wishes
She held closely these jewels
Forgive her
For she never knew
Her days
Would find rest on brood
If February were a love story
I couldn’t give you a tale
That meant more to me
But as you can see, In February
We long to become a love story
Categories:
ruminants, life, music, people, song-lyricfebruary,
Form:
Free verse
as wind slowly, silently, stirs dry grass
forest ruminants eye darkening skies
sniffing for the scents of Winter’s warning
watch the fading “V’s” - distant disguise.
once dappled fawns stand tall now tawny
alert to changes in the forest’s tone
urgency replaces Summer’s idyll
leafs red alert of warning wildly blown.
cricket violins fall coldly silent
the dragon and the butterflies called home
turtles abandon logs for mud bank nest
gnarled trees embrace the fate of stoic gnome.
burrowers and builders peer from retreats
as thinly spreads this crust of Winter’s bite
chasing the sap of life within its core
hoarfrost to tinge the soul in black and white.
chilled stealth of ice reclaims the rippled pond
swans beauty - fades to black - dots in the sky
hawks ride the frigid winds of Winter’s rise
I store my kayak paddle with a sigh.
John G. Lawless
©10/8/2018
Categories:
ruminants, nature, winter,
Form:
Rhyme
Sometimes with neither rhyme nor reason
We chew insanity and regurgitate vanity
Ensnaring our souls in a pesky prison
Where we trap humanity in an insidious inanity
With a passion so overwhelming
We galumph in an empty triumph
From which we emerge screaming and squirming
When horrors and terrors galumph
Daring us to shout a victory we haven't won
Tame tails between our legs
Our pride and self esteem undone
When the goose that once produced golden eggs
Rebels
Demanding payment for the air we breathe
In soporific cells
Where our emotions seethe
Despite shrinking in span
Their wings clipped
Their bloodshot eyes wan
With sleep ripped
Apart by angels of morals
Who campaign for reform
In the way we treat ruminants, rodents and squirrels
Stealing space from the home
Where with no iota of shame we encroach to build siren shaped skyscrapers
Cajoling our delight
As our latest ecosystem scandals hit headlines in newspapers
In which we explore and expose the blight our puny fight
To survive
Hounded and hunted down by horrors unleashed from dented laboratories
Where our survival guaranteed we drive
Manufacturing biological weapons of mass destruction in our demented factories.
Categories:
ruminants, poems,
Form:
Free verse
what could have set the stars in motion
a hard boiled egg thrown at the Heavens
is as good a tack as any among the ruminants
an often officious offering of hopeful effect
made during a time of dreams and trouble
as a friend with a favor to give
to the heartsick and trail weary
whose tolerance for surprise is tested
sticking their heads above the parapet
to seek something unforgettable
a bent author's senile signature
yes this is mine alone of no other
no prospect of avoiding misidentification
once and for all as a thing of one instant
may not be the same in the next
but that's just me as theater
all curtains and voices muffled behind
feeding lines to a hungry mouth
a struggle between the world of wish
and the world of stark requirement
turning your best parts into an oath
giving strength to lift a finger
against those who think that to outwit
is to stop the motion of the stars
Categories:
ruminants, how i feel,
Form:
Free verse
Days go by
Silence wares
You walked away
I don’t know who you are
Lie your breath
Fingers through your hair
Songs you knew you’d sing
Only I truly know what you mean
Growing up they held your hopes
Hid your dreams
Loved you such
You wrote them all away
No one knows it’s us
Smiles are tattoos your mirror hides
I held you cure from saddened eyes
I took a wishful truth
And wiped away your cries
You change your status
Ruminants of what happened
Ain’t it funny
How those you love disappear
They held you close
You kept your church
I’m lost in you
And now you’re hurt
No one knows we’re us
"I wonder where you are
I don’t know what else to do
I worry that you love me still
I feel the same
But I don’t need to sing"
Categories:
ruminants, caregiving, girlfriend-boyfriend, life, lost
Form:
Lyric
Coastline, rocky, rugged, proud,
Crumbling cliffs in ozone shroud,
Sun-kissed drifts of desert sand,
Golden frame of a sea cradled land.
Fishing village, atmospheric hub,
Brass band playing, outside quaint old pub,
Boats, all sizes, rest near harbour wall,
Wading birds sift through tide-filled pool.
Foliage explosion of a Cornish hedge,
Country lanes snake, and young birds fledge,
Ruminants, punctuating, quilted hill,
Buzzards soar and wise hares are still.
Tin mine engine house, towering stack,
Roof caved in, gorse and bracken’s back,
White clay peak, geometrical and sleek,
Earth’s riches gouged, canyon deep.
Moor-land, open, untamed, granite strewn,
Wild ponies dance to a skylark’s tune,
Tor and beacon, barrow and mound,
You’re in God’s own country,
When you walk this ground.
Categories:
ruminants, beautiful, earth, inspiration, inspirational,
Form:
Rhyme
Outside
My window pane
Rain falls
Days Undo
Time Itself
Sun light
Morning ends
Nights fall
Lastly
I give
Into You
Ruminants
I start to Forget them
Mirrors, Luggage
I’m leaving without you
Time sees what we cannot
My eyes lie open
Across your chest
with visions to blurry to see
Is this all that I can be
This illusion
Is all that I can see
It’s All that I can’t be
More than more
I remain unchanged
And you dear
Always stay the same
Downstairs
Too slowly
I chase
un-doubtly
My emptiness
Has filled you
Ghostly
I step closer
To what we shared
Sometimes
The oceans
And images
Call to me
Winding into
Treasures
Hidden
Beyond
your eyelids
Secrets are so rare
Behind my curtains
I’m open to all things
Until you sooth me
As your voice sings
All that I can hear
As eyes lie open
Across your chest
a visions to blurry to see
Is this all that I can be
This illusion
Is all that I can see
It’s All that I can’t be
Categories:
ruminants, art, happiness, life, love,
Form:
Lyric
I am the sun, I energize your day.
I speak expressly to the humid air;
'dry up for a day that is bright and fair.'
I command moisture to dry the lush hay
for non-ruminants to be well nourished.
I am ageless, and I am distinguished.
My golden rays have living things enriched,
my yellow rays induce the labourer's sleep,
having toiled so hard for his family's upkeep.
The flower smiles at my usual advances,
and with her fixed gaze, she makes no glances.
My loving rays speak with no utterances.
The day flourishes with my assistance,
as I serve from my celestial distance.
My service to you, none else can replicate.
Without me, life-form will from the earth vacate.
Categories:
ruminants, nature, sun,
Form:
Rhyme
outward brain stem hummock
analogously, (asper bound
minuscule magnum opus)
figuratively paginated with drowned
atavistic animal instincts
roar back to life upon found
perceived or real threat adrenaline
splashes cerebral hemispheres
triggering body electric
to become alert as a blood hound
countless millenniums ago
the flight or fight reaction apropos
when savage beasts
threatened tribe with bro
whizzing primitive creatures some forced tweet crow
wing, thence railing, swooping,
trouncing dough
main housing small cluster of emo
ting primates (gabbling in primal
grunts and groans witnessing ruminants
scurrying to and fro
survival of the fittest danger field
thus by dint of inherent smarts didst grow
outwitting wily coyote, or other lion eyes, hoe
ping automatic saving grace tactics recalled,
when looming predator doth woof
and warp emergency arises,
when debacle fore stalled
for time against getting mauled
whereby each subsequent ruse
out foxing fierce-some, hungry non a mew
zing potential breakfast, lunch,
or dinner as the sorry loo
sir aye sic newt ton, sans this non nonsense game of "Life",
which thru countless millenniums strategies grew
layered upon left and right cerebral hemispheres few
till hetty became diminished
as con tra bands of bipedal hominids drew
upon accumulated storied history
learned from Bubba Zayda's
many times over motley crew
squirreling modus operandi
wove (traversing eons)
corpus collosum hair
(more so nerve fiber weave
a microscopic whirled wide web linkedin
left and right fist size gray matter
coated with transparent integument
custom made swiftly tailored sleeve
ah...proving grounds,
when forebears of *****Sapiens
touch and go tagged on permanent leave
on par with imagining dragons easy to believe.
Categories:
ruminants, 10th grade, 11th grade,
Form:
Free verse
What wafting of wisdom! Such saccharine sound!
Deft diction’s depictions, opaque and profound!
So ruminants rumble and mumble and seek
To mine out much marrow, obtuse and oblique.
My constant conundrum’s more crude and perverse:
I strive not to retch at such wretched non-verse.
Fair finery flops if its form foully flows:
Each clash, pull, and smash smells of emperor’s clothes.
You poets who pass pompous prose off as poem,
Go home!
Categories:
ruminants, funny, humor, humorous, poems,
Form:
Light Verse
The piano screams my name
No body knows my pain
Out on a stormy day
What else does your story say
As we exist
through a code of known morals
Who can strip
the back of a snake corralled
Pleasantly awaken common sense
and flaunt it plural
Ruminants
of an area less than rural
Drip-lets let you know something’s fallen
I wish but then a gain
A wish is an incomplete thought
A decision is contemplation completed
And reasoning
Is only an individuals desire defeated
The piano screams my name
No body knows my pain
Out on a stormy day
What else does your story say
I’ll see you tomorrow, maybe
But tomorrow
will definitely see you first my friend
Searching my pockets thin
Out on my last wind
The curse of we aborted men
Raped in anger a changeling to
An opinion voiced is nothing new
Losing my way
Last night I slept in the morning dew
A masque of reddened death
Prelude to a bubonic fever
A modern day swine flu
Flesh deadened to depths
Unbelievably I stood right behind you
The piano screams my name
No body knows my pain
Out on a stormy day
What else does your story say
"in my glass of cognac"
Categories:
ruminants, life, music, recovery from...,
Form:
Free verse