Best Snipes Poems
When panthers prowl and lions stalk,
the lone wolves howl and parrots talk.
The bee hives hum and wild boars snort;
the grouses drum; the deer cavort.
And as geese cackle, small hares peek.
They see a jackal, squeal and squeak!
Near streams are snipes where hoot owls hoot.
A nightingale pipes sound of flute.
Frogs croak and play as pigeons moan,
and rhinos bray through beetles’ drone.
Snakes hiss, and apes start gibbering;
no beast escapes this daily fling!
In this clatter, swallows twitter,
magpies chatter; every critter
can join in. Hyenas laugh
while in the din, each tall giraffe
begin to bleat. What reverie
of primal beat - this jamboree!
July 2, 2020 for Brian Strand's
Strand Completely New(4)Any Theme Any Form Poetry Contest
Categories:
snipes, animal,
Form:
Rhyme
With stretched brows, while sitting in a corner
I look up from my specs just out of love.
As she lays food on table and stoops lower
Snipes me from grace of her body thereof.
With eyes on her I come there as if drugged
Feeling tickling smell of the hot soup.
Now she puts a sheaf of flowers in a jug
And pours in water pressing it in group.
I see how the necks and cups get entwined
With the curls of her hair and points of crest.
See how at each stalk her waist curves defined
Budding, abloom in the shape of her breasts.
Soup and food lay cold and my body warm
As she swirls and whirls her skirt like a storm.
+++
December 15, 2014
Form: Sonnet (Pentameter)
First Place win
Best of 2014 by Carol Eastman
Categories:
snipes, nostalgia, drug,
Form:
Sonnet
I: Sheep
(A poem about Covid)
next door to 19 chimneys
and 'the dark satanic mills'
a flock of sheep is grazing
oblivious in the hills.
II: Other Animals
(They do all exist!)
goblin sharks and pangolins
sea pigs, star-nosed moles
mata matas, sugar gliders
shoats and water voles.
aye-ayes, dik-diks, wobbegongs
chicken turtles, loons
shoebills, snipes and yeti crabs
and cozumel raccoons.
pink fairy armadillos
bilbys, 52-hertz whales
the red-lipped batfish, panda ants
and emperor helmet snails.
the pleasing fungus beetles, thrips
hellbenders, great potoos
lilac breasted rollers, bongos
glass frogs, kinkajous.
boobies, fried egg jellyfish
happy wrens and teals
sarcastic fringe heads, cock-tailed tyrants
shags, electric eels.
johnny cash tarantulas
slevin's emo skinks
hanging thieves, agra cadabras
turbo shrews and minks.
the mediterranean shame-faced crabs
dugongs, gangly lancers
jesus lizards, pistol shrimps
fossas, spanish dancers.
the rare long-wattled umbrellabirds
chubs and munchkin cats
satanic leaf-tailed geckos, shads
gars, nits and fancy rats.
Categories:
snipes, allegory, animal, metaphor,
Form:
Rhyme
As the year thunders on the autumn days begin to get shorter the nights are early,
My old dog stretches out by a blazing log fire only turning over when he's too hot,
Arthritis is slowing him down his hips are so sore he walks very slowly with a limp,
Very soon it will be time to take him out on grassy rich heaths for the very last time.
Although the weather for autumn is calm it is the damp air that makes the pain worse,
Outside he lays watching spiders form radiated circles on every single bush and twig,
And at the silken threads on every blade of grass and he barks and sniffs so quietly,
His mood is solemn but calm, he is in a daze and forgets his way back to the garden.
We walked along forest meadows running chasing sticks and shadows barking with joy,
He would bound up to some lovely hedges or soft willow plots and roll in green grass,
Smoke from autumn’s bonfires has a smell that reminds me of wonderful golden sunsets,
Now it will remind me of loneliness with my faithful old friend running in a dog heaven.
By my log fire my dog’s eyes are brown they are pleading there are tears in the corners,
He doesn't understand that he is old and cannot do the things he has always loved to do,
A haunting stare asks me to help him because you're my dad you will make me better,
Next day I take him out for the very last time a long walk into the vets and I break down.
My hands deep in my pockets I walk where we always walked and soon it will be winter,
Standing and watching the departure of numbers of birds that have shared our summer,
The Curlews, Sandpipers, Snipes and Bean Goose fly across the sky but my joy has gone,
Norway thrush's arrive but where is my dear old friend we watched the seasons together.
The Fern-owls, dotterals, swallows and some of the plovers used bid us a last goodbye,
Today go the flycatchers, white throats, warblers, wheatears and the hardy red sparrows.
Gardens show us autumnal flowers crocuses, autumn snowflakes fall on meadow saffron,
Everything is going and saying goodbye I turn into the wind tears roll down my cheeks.
Categories:
snipes, dog,
Form:
Dramatic Verse
Give them clear mountain lakes,
Kid-friendly swimming holes,
Rafts, canoes, and sailboats;
Dads and sons with fishing-poles.
Give them clear night skies,
With just a little moonlight.
To see the Milky Way,
Hunting snipes by flashlight. Hoowah!
(Boy Scouts) Chawanakee! (clap clap) Chawanakee!
Give them old patch jackets
So that they can tell their tales:
Camporees, jamborees,
And famous historic trails
Give them old traditions:
Native American folklore;
Ashes saved from campfires,
From Scouters who went before. Hoowah!
(Boy Scouts) Chawanakee! (clap clap) Chawanakee!
All Scouts want is just a chance
To meet wildlife, touch native plants,
Go stargazing and backpacking,
Earn merit badges for everything.
All Scouts want is just somewhere
To swim and hike and breathe fresh air,
Cook, laugh and sing ‘round a campfire--
There just ain’t much more
That a Scout can desire.
(Boy Scouts) Chawanakee! (clap clap) Chawanakee!
Give them wood to build with,
Lengths of rope with knots to tie,
Multi-tool pocket knives,
Tenderfoots wanting to try.
Give them trails to follow,
Maps and compasses to read,
Kindling for a bonfire,
And patrols of Scouts to lead. Hoowah!
(Boy Scouts) Chawanakee! (clap clap) Chawanakee!
All Scouts want is just a chance
To meet wildlife, touch native plants,
Go stargazing and backpacking,
Earn merit badges for everything.
All Scouts want is just somewhere
To swim and hike and breathe fresh air,
Cook, laugh and sing ‘round a campfire.
There just ain’t much more
That a Scout can desire. Everybody!
(Boy Scouts) CHAWANAKEE! (clap clap) CHAWANAKEE!
Categories:
snipes, america, father, fishing, native
Form:
Lyric
Once there was a marksman
He was in the woods to hunt
He met a snipe as he was on his way.
Snipe said “don’t hunt my kids if you confront them”
As they have gone in the forest to play”.
The marks said, “ Alright”
He took a few steps and came back
He asked the snipe, “But how shall I know they’re your kids?
Tell me something about what they look like?”
Or any other marks on their bodies?
Oh, Marksman, they’re the most beautiful kids!
Nodding not to shoot them, went on his hike
When he returned to the same spot
Where he has met the snipe
He held a string of young snipes
Looking at the string holding her own kids
The snipe started crying looking at her dead kids.
Oh, why didn't you shoot me in my kids’ stead?
I’ve shot the ugly I could find instead.
The snipe said “Woe to me, don't you know” fool”?
Moms think their children the most beautiful”.
+++++++
June 21, 2014 (Originally posted on 11/23/11)
Form : Free Verse
Dr. Ram Mehta
Second Place Win
Contest: Story poem by Carol Eastman
Categories:
snipes, love, mother, passion,
Form:
Free verse
Aunt Marilda’s house and closet were full of felines of all types.
long-haired, short-haired, tabbies, pumas, and mice-hunting snipes.
we knew what we were inheriting when she passed on a rainy day.
who is going to clean out those animals? Asked persnickety aunt Kay.
there were live ones in addition to the ones on the chairs in the kitchen.
my aunt was irritated about her hoarder sister, she could not stop ’n.
six nieces and one nephew were not eager to stay for the show.
there were three living sisters, and they were all “in the know”.
Gladys took the closet, Stephanie and Yvetee cleaned out her stove.
there surely is not a cat inside that! Said my uncle who hid in an alcove.
they are everywhere! Said a niece who had brought along six live traps.
she had already caught sixteen of them and said “maybe this is a wrap!”
Aunt Marilda’s pots and pants, curtains, and shower stall all had cats.
some sat on their plump oversized bottoms; some were chasing rats.
one cat way up high hissed at everyone who came anywhere near.
cat shoes were found in the closet. Steph yelled “Marilda is here!”
we nieces and nephews were not sure exactly what she meant.
until we began smelling cinnamon, cloves, and peppermint.
popular scents of Aunt Marilda, her spirit must be quite near.
uncle yelled at the cat “Marilda, get your petootsie down here!”
Black cat jumped off the counter as if he had fallen from a nest.
Leaped onto Uncle’s shirt and slid down, tearing up his chest.
It’s Marilda all right! Uncle yelped. She always despised me.
His sisters cackled like witches as they drank their orange tea.
Categories:
snipes, 10th grade, 11th grade,
Form:
Rhyme
'Tis fascinating to read epitaphs that upon stones are etched;
Some are rather appealing, some are tragic, others a bit far-fetched!
'Neath this stone lie at peace a husband and his wife
She a Republican-He a Democrat-both now free of strife
Here rests Bruno Snipes the founder of our fair city
He slipped on a banana peel and died-Oh what a pity
Lion trainer Dave was brave and famed
'Til he met Leo who refused to be tamed
Uncle Bob died so young and we wondered why
Seems he tried to drink Canada Dry
The plane's controls Pilot Horace failed to recoup
Alas he spun out doing a double outside loop
Cowpoke Hank should've known as a matter of course
That it was futile to borrow a judge's horse
Here sleeps Senator Claghorn the wiliest politico around
He was so crooked they screwed him in the ground
Here lies the prolific Chief Many Papoose
Who with brave's wives played fancy and loose
She met her doom as over the cliff she did traverse
Instead of shifting to drive she shifted to reverse
Cowboy Pete was so bow-legged from riding his horse
That he lies in a double-wide coffin as a matter of course
Categories:
snipes, death, humorous,
Form:
Rhyme
Snipes are a kind of bird, difficult to spot
because they’re quiet and they hide a lot –
a kind of cross ‘twixt stool pigeon and an owl,
it is a bird that deserves to be called fowl.
Maybe a large rooster with antlers like a moose
some guys say they are more like a wild goose.
How do you catch them? Now that is where you
depend on luck; my friend hit one with his shoe.
Some make a cage from an old cardboard box
but pillowcases work. To really outfox
a large snipe, you may need to bring a rope
to tie him up; if it's real dark, you just hope.
First, you start to hear sounds - like gobblety-gook
and you may start to think that you are a schnook
but hang in there. Sometimes it takes all night
especially if the snipe puts up a fight.
First time I went, along about one o’clock
I smelled what I thought was a rat in a crock
quick as a wink, I caught onto a small snipe.
What a night! but I got it, all in one fell swipe.
Categories:
snipes, adventure, night,
Form:
Couplet
Once a marksman was in the woods to hunt
He met a snipe as he was on his way
Snipe said “don’t hunt my kids if you confront
As they have gone in the forest to play”.
"Alright, But how shall I know they’re your kids?
Tell me something about what they look like?"
"Oh, Marksman, they’re the most beautiful kids!"
Nodding not to shoot them, went on his hike.
On return, a string of young snipes he held
The snipe crying looking at her kids dead.
"Oh, why didn’t you shoot me in my kids’ stead?"
"I’ve shot the ugly I could find instead."
The snipe said “Woe to me, don't you know” fool”
Moms think their children the most beautiful”.
+++
March 12, 2014
Dr.Ram Mehta
Form: Sonnet
Third Place Win
Contest:Hunt for a Sonnet Gems & Seven Stones in the Crown by Debbie Guzzi
PS: I had entered this poem on 3/4/14 but I was giving final once over to the poem, I don't know somewhere I clicked and the whole page went blank. So I have reposted it again
Categories:
snipes, love, mother,
Form:
Sonnet
Cataclysmic nuptials like pebbles fall, between the slats of the grate of dawn
And end to hover 'bove the wave of life's eternal turning grave
Fragmented intention leads us to powdered evolution
The sluice of lies betroths truth's function
As a mayfly's end is met in a ripple
Gaia no longer bares her nipple
Repugnant redundancy metastisizes for all to see
Thru cataracted counteractivity
we bleed therefore we be, before the tree on bended knee
Barking and scratching, wrongly we flee, disagree to disagree
Rhyming schemes now mildly obscene
And lacking originality
To mime a balleen between the stream
Of consciousness's wailing "ANNUNAKI!"
I sip venom a la carte, trip off the chart
This viper snipes, injects it's gripe
Intravenous diffusion, molecular nail-bomb
Keratin inscriptions on the wailing wall, and then some
Conniption, a declaration of frustration and grief,
The sacred beef wedged 'tween my teeth
Which once ran thru fields as the mayfly flew
While I sought to sip the sacred brew.
Categories:
snipes, april, dark, nature,
Form:
It’s the land of milk and honey,
you fail to see beneath stars and stripes;
Hard work holds prosperous and free;
The lifestyle seems to come so easy,
lost within stories and stereotypes;
It’s the land of milk and honey;
Just getting by is a catastrophe,
inflation and basic survival snipes;
Hard work holds prosperous and free;
Left coast dreams east coast tyranny,
always seem to be surrounded by hypes;
It’s the land of milk and honey;
Pushing limits is what it was meant to be,
competition gives birth to prototypes;
Hard work holds prosperous and free;
Stay grounded and look carefully,
flooded with media and fancy teletypes;
It’s the land of milk and honey,
hard work holds prosperous and free.
Categories:
snipes, america, emotions, feelings, freedom,
Form:
Villanelle
As the year thunders on the autumn day's begin to get shorter the nights are early,
My old dog stretches out by a blazing log fire only turning over when he's too hot,
Arthritis is slowing him down his hips are so sore he walks very slowly with a limp,
Soon it will be time to take him out on grassy rich heaths for the very last time.
Although the weather for autumn is calm it is the damp air that makes the pain worse,
Outside he lays watching spiders form radiated circles on every single bush and twig,
And at the silken threads on every blade of grass and he barks and sniffs so quietly,
His mood is solemn but calm, he is in a daze and forgets his way back to the garden.
We walked along forest meadows running chasing sticks and shadows barking with joy,
He would bound up to some lovely hedges or soft willow plots and rolled in the grass,
Smoke from autumns bonfires has a smell that reminds me of wonderful golden sunsets,
Now it will remind me of loneliness my faithful old friend running in a dog heaven.
By my log fire my dogs eyes are brown and pleading there are tears in the corners,
He doesn't understand that he is old and cannot do the things he always loved to do,
A haunting stare asking me to help him because you're my dad will you make me better,
Next day I take him out for the very last time I walk into the vets and I break down.
My hands deep in my pockets I walk where we always walked and soon it will be winter,
Standing and watching the departure of numbers of birds that have shared our summer,
The Curlews, Sandpipers, Snipes and Bean goose fly across the sky but my joy has gone,
Norway thrush's arrive but where is my dear old friend we watched the seasons together.
The Fern-owls, dotterals, swallows and some of the plovers used bid us a last goodbye,
Today go the fly catchers, white throats, warblers, wheat ears and hardy red sparrows.
Gardens show us autumnal flowers crocuses, autumnal snowflakes fall on meadow saffron,
Everything is going and saying goodbye I turn into the wind, tears roll down my cheeks.
Categories:
snipes, dog, me, old, dog,
Form:
Prose Poetry
Off to the sea in ships we all go,
Untested, but cock sure, as iron to a forge
Deck apes, snipes and gunners are we,
Salt spray, steam and gun smoke to deal
Up early and turning to ‘til late,
While pilfered horse cock, cards and dice await
Down to the bilges and up to the bridge,
Or off to clean the head each day begins
Gunnery drills and damage control,
A well-oiled fightin’ machine we all have become
Man Overboard! Gunner to the bridge,
Seems ole Oscar has taken a dip
A catnap before we take on fuel,
Heavy seas and darkness again to duel
Heave around lads, hand over hand!
Get the rig on deck the bos’n demands
Finally completed and soaked to the skin,
No rack for me, I’ve got the mid
Reveille! Reveille! Up at first light,
Clampdown awaits then I’ll grab a bite
In port tomorrow and liberty awaits,
But first there’s a washdown and lots to paint
All is secured and the Chief’s in good cheer,
So it’s off to the gut for some titties and beer
Back before sunrise no Shore Patrol required,
A run through the rain locker before liberty expires
Breakfast and quarters a new day begins,
I’ll borrow a $20 so I can do it again
Categories:
snipes, military,
Form:
Rhyme
Sean Highdale
Sean and four friends went out one night,
To the cinema, ‘cos his mate had just passed,
His driving test, so they hit upon the height,
Of the speed limit, but the car sadly crashed.
Two were killed, one’s still in a coma, Danny,
Sean suffered a brain injury, bones shattered,
Today he says:”I can go and see him, [Danny],
he can't speak…but I can [kiss him]”, captured.
He was set to play for Liverpool, just his stripes,
But the Speke Boulevard tragedy stopped that,
So now he plays football for Great Britain, snipes,
And made his Para debut at Rio, Brazil to bat.
Categories:
snipes, football, sports, strength,
Form:
Quatrain