Best Squealed Poems
Out of the burrows and hedges and dreys
Heads began bobbing and eyes were agaze.
Rumours were twittered and grunted and squealed:
‘The combine is coming to harvest the field!’
The moles and the voles and the rabbits and hares
All hurried and scurried and scattered in pairs.
The hedgehogs and ladybirds, pheasants and shrews
Did all that they could to distribute the news.
Then all made a dash for old wise badger’s sett;
The only safe refuge in face of the threat.
There, in the deep hollow they felt the vibration
They shivered and shuddered in great trepidation.
The thrumming and thundering monster machine
Soon passed overhead... and then all was serene.
And out of the hollow came heads, tails and paws
Another day safe from the harvester’s jaws!
Most recently entered into 'Your Best Rhyme Poem That Is Trophy Worthy Contest 3 Poetry Contest' sponsored by Tania Kitchin - 05.10.19
I chose this poem because not only is it one of my personal favourites, but to this day, I've no idea where all these little creatures came from! Written early on in my poetic endeavours, it made me appreciate fully the amazing powers of the imagination!
'A rattling rhyme contest' sponsored by Nina Parmenter
12/08/18
04/12/18
'I cannot believe I wrote that Poetry contest' : sponsored by Nina Parmenter
Your Choice,Any Form,Any Theme Poetry Contest : sponsored by Brian Strand
Categories:
squealed, angst, animal, fear, freedom,
Form:
Rhyme
Humpty Dumpty always sat on that wall
Except for the one time he had a great fall
So always but once that anyone can recall
Which is why today is a big deal after all
Since Little Bo Peep had lost her sheep
She wanted to ask Humpty to take a peek
If he could see where she should seek
She could round them up within the week
He wasn't on the wall, she rang Missing Alert
It sent shockwaves far and wide and overt
The Three Blind Mice scampered in the dirt
Three Little Pigs squealed like they were hurt
Next thing you know, Little Miss Muffet,
Told Tom Thumb to find Humpty or 'ef it'!
Three Little Kittens told Jack Spratt to "Stuff it!"
Itty Bitty Spider crawled the wall and jumped it
The Old Lady Who Lived In the Shoe
Panicked about what to do
Earlier she and Humpty had a rendezvous
He fell asleep and now had no clue
Most all those in Mother Goose Town
Heard Humpty was missing, wasn't around
Everyone was afraid he fell down
All were searching, wanting him found
Jack In the Beanstalk knew of the tryst
He told the Old Lady they would fix this
They covered up Humpty, he didn't resist
Henny Penny yelled, "Sky falling!" and insists
Hey Diddle Diddle got the cow to jump
And dropped Humpty on the wall on his rump
Starlight First Star said he looked like a lump
Even The Owl And Pussycat were stumped
Categories:
squealed, children, funny, humorous, mystery,
Form:
Rhyme
When Octopus came round for tea,
it was a tricky time for me.
Not knowing what he’d like to eat.
I wondered... savoury or sweet?
I borrowed spoons from Mrs Deggs
next door, for each of his eight legs.
I ‘d heard, if cross, black ink he’d squirt.
I worried... main course or dessert?
I know you’re thinking ‘do the two’
but he doesn’t eat like me and you,
his tummy’s really very small,
he can’t eat very much at all.
I fast flicked through my cooking books
and gave the clock face frequent looks,
but soon the door bell went ‘terrrinnggg’
Oh gosh! Hot pie or cold pudding?
‘Terrrinnggg, terrrinnggg’. Eight times it rang
and then he used each leg to bang
eight times upon my door. I rushed
to open it, and past he pushed.
“Please hurry up and let me in”
he squealed, and I thought, through the din,
‘He must be hungry for his food,
that’s why his manners are so rude’
But still I didn’t have clue
(a secret between me and you)
what I should feed the octopus.
I wished he ate like one of us.
I closed my eyes and made a wish,
Into my thoughts popped ‘Jelly fish!’
It sounded like the perfect meal,
much tastier than jellied eel.
Ooh, seafood with a fruity taste
and wobbly too. I cooked with haste,
and while I wondered what he’d think
I gave him sea water to drink.
He drank it through a straw, with ice.
He smiled and said “That’s rather nice,
but now I really need my dinner
before my legs get any thinner”
The Jelly Fish I boiled and froze
and put some parsley up its nose.
It was neither jelly nor a fish
but I served it on a silver dish
and asked before it passed his lips
“Do you want it with ice-cream or chips?”
He chose to have a bit of each,
both garnished with a slice of peach.
It all went down with one loud SLUURRRPPP
close followed by a great big BUUUURRRRPP
Categories:
squealed, childrenme, me,
Form:
Rhyme
It was way after eight, at the Cat in the Hat.
The whole plaice was swimming, quoth the mackrel to sprat.
Though the milk was upset, she still stifled her cry,
So sorry i spilt you, mumbled poor humble pie.
My joints are the bees knees, squealed the honey roast ham,
And the apple agreed, she was better than spam.
Then red herring denied, he had something to hide,
Like a small Bombay duck, is a fish that is dried.
While tasty choux pastry, bared her soul to an eel,
The mock turtle announced, i believe i am veal.
And the ice cube was crushed, as she played fast and loose,
For an orange refused, to be part of fruit juice.
As warm rhubarb crumble, melts in custards embrace,
The sour gooseberry tart, wails she's taking my place
Then a voice in my head, spoke it's all fantasy.
Your table awaits you, said the waitress to me.
I glanced at the menu, it was all a la carte.
I said, bring me everything, but let's start with that tart.
Categories:
squealed, imagination, nonsense,
Form:
Couplet
I accidentally let one loose
A ripe for roasting, fattened goose!
The ganders in Orwellian mode
Honked out the news in gaggled code.
Rash Farmer Giles, blood red with rage
Would not be easy to assuage
And goslings flapped their wings in fear
As if to say ‘Get out of here!’
The rooster crowed with all his might
To publicize my sorry plight
And terror-stricken piglets squealed
As rifle cocked, he left the field.
I turned and fled: there’d be no grace
For farmer Giles had picked up pace.
But then, a crack, a curse ; a whopper!
Old Farmer Giles had come a cropper!
This close escape I did embrace
For he had run a wild goose chase!
And as I raised a thankful sigh
A cackling form went flying by!
Competition entry : I accidentally let one loose : Charles Messina 22 July N/A
Applicable Not Applicable Contests Poetry Contest : sponsored by Richard Lamoureux
19.05.19
Categories:
squealed, freedom,
Form:
Rhyme
He squealed,
Like a pig in heat
Praising God for he believed
He sat, 2 years old
And he looked at the lord
Drew an angels breath
Swatted a toy
A bird that could not fly
Meant for another mans eye
Gramp's died
took a colorado bound plane
in the seat pocket in front
was a small toy ostrich
I shoved it deep into my pocket
I could not say why
When I got home
a sickness ensued
with pink cottage cheese chunks
Filled up the sink
and i withered in pain
He died
It came
on the window pane
it was white like a ghost
did not appear on french toast
it was like a laser etching
awoke to the bird symbol awakening
and i had that toy
same exact size
and this symbol on the window
with every feather perfectly detailed
could be traced from the toy to the window
difference was that the tail was composed many fine, white, smooth flowing, intermingling lines
translucent, and seen best by brightest daylight
I thought it was condensation
that it would fade away
but it remained
©
Categories:
squealed, bird, celebration, cool, destiny,
Form:
Free verse
no end to this neverending sentence...just a sour note and a few mad quotes from the afterlife
afterlife? more like ants in the afterbirth...once a mighty warrior now a worm...i slither and i squirm...
no fire and no heat just chained to this seat...forced to view the victims of violence from this man of misery
with eyes and ears open...not even a blink...with every scarred soul the lower i sink
the movie begins and the theater is dark...and i'm not alone...i can hear other dead dogs bark
these innocent faces turn insane just in seconds...i can feel their disease...turning blessings to curses
a sad symphony and a choir of chaos keep spewing their venomous verses
i once was the greatest but now i'm the worst
i just can't breaK FREE from these shackles and chains...i hear the word NEVER into eternity
the echoes of screams they just come back from the screen
now the skeletal masses are laughing at me
i ask for forgiveness 1000 times a day but my tormentors just laugh..."NOT A CHANCE"
graves of ghosts empty and they all come to me to thank me in person for just being me
no uniformed ugliness just brutality beasts...they all take their turn from the
a to the z
i cry out to God and he says, "IT'S TOO LATE"
i talk to the devil and he says, "you'll be free any day"
vengeance was mine now i'm getting slain...for all of my sins and my murderous ways
for attrocities all...from the small to the large...i turned good men to monsters and massacred love
i turned peaceful neighborhoods into ghetto battlefields
i broke apart happy families as they cried,moaned,and squealed
more than six million got sent to their makers with lead sleeping pills
i lived the devils deal...now repaid with revenge...i'm sad,seedy and sour...still no suicide syringe
like blasphemy on a binge i tore hideous holes in the fabric of time
yes to my children of darkness i made the demonic seem divine...i even claimed to turn water into wine
now truth and terror has me thirsty for some kind of a release
from this concentration camp i NEVER can leave
please just one tear from heaven can put me at ease
Categories:
squealed, deathme, me,
Form:
Ballad
To the tune of Simon And Garfunkel's "Homeward Bound"
for the music http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Xs_YQ6JuNpA
When I asked you to the County Fair
You had just rolled your eyes and twirled your hair
Got down on one knee to plead
Come with me, baby, pretty please
We'll have a ball, I'm begging you
I will get you back, by your curfew
Holding on
I needed you
Holding on
Hold, back my tears from making
Hold, back my heart from breaking
Hold, back the time from taking
Taking you from me
Smiled like I had passed the test
You helped me up and whispered "yes"
We kissed so hard that I couldn't see
Why a girl like you, wanted me
You kissed me every car we passed
Then we made sweet love, at last
Holding on
I needed you
Holding on
Hold, back my tears from making
Hold, back my heart from breaking
Hold, back the time from taking
Taking you from me
Our first ride was the Ferris Wheel
I rocked the chair until you squealed
Kissed every time we went around
That balloon we lost, never found
That big old Teddy Bear you craved
Merry Go Round rings, that we saved
Holding on
I needed you
Holding on
Hold, back my tears from making
Hold, back my heart from breaking
Hold, back the time from taking
Taking you from me
Taking you from me
Categories:
squealed, song-lyricheart, time, heart, me,
Form:
Rhyme
The first time
Goodness?
or not
the first time I saw a man’s parts
I was five…….
Such confusion, such disbelief
hide and seek we played and in a a box he hid.
Sears had delivered a new frig
his sons and I “ally alley out free……..”
we called and ran from room to room
in giggling search for each other.
Closet ……….no..
Behind the kitchen door ……no
Upstairs we ran His son and I to the kids bedroom.
Under the bed….nope!
Downstairs we ran and out the door,
the boy went left I went right.
The backyard with all the sheds and trees and….
a huge cardboard box……….
His eldest son squealed from the front yard…
baby boy was no where out front!!!
The flap on the cardboard box moved.
Ever so quietly I approached ……….
“I got him!” I screamed and lifted the box flap.
Inside the box sat my friends Dad?
In an over coat and nothing else….
“Wanta see what I got?” He said?
Between his hands stood a rigid rod
he petted it. Looking down at it and up at me….
I screamed. I ran. “Grandma! GRANDMAAAAAAAAAAA!”
And that was my first exposure to man.
Categories:
squealed, introspectionson, son,
Form:
Free verse
The rusted Ferris wheel, a skeletal hand,
Points to a sky it can no longer command.
Once, laughter echoed, joy on the breeze,
Now silence reigns, whispered by the trees.
The carousel horses, their paint chipped and worn,
Dream of merry-go-rounds, of days yet unborn.
Once, children squealed, clinging to their steeds,
Now shadows dance, where happy laughter bleeds.
The cotton candy stand, its windows cracked and dim,
Holds the ghost of sweetness, a forgotten whim.
Once, sugary clouds, a magical delight,
Now only dust motes, swirling in the light.
The roller coaster track, a metal serpent curled,
Whispers of thrills, a forgotten world.
Once, screams of delight, a dizzying race,
Now only rust and wind, in this silent space.
The park stands empty, a monument to time,
A reminder of moments, once so sublime.
The ghosts of laughter, echo in the breeze,
Whispering of memories, of happy, carefree days.
Categories:
squealed, fun, memory, sad,
Form:
Rhyme
Hank was a hard workin' cowpoke who really earned his meager pay.
He rode his ass Old Red from early dawn 'til at night he hit the hay,
Fixin' fences, ropin' steers and brandin' dogies in the old corral,
But he had an odd addiction that gnawed on his pard's morale!
He was a happy yodler which is alright fer a wrangler I suppose,
But his irritatin' warblin' caused him to nearly come to blows!
At night in the bunkhouse he would even yodel in his sleep,
Addin' to the din of his pals who were known fer snorin' deep!
His yodelin' caused cattle to stampede and hosses to buck and neigh.
Caused chickens to cease layin' aigs and cantankerous mules to bray!
Porkers squealed in their sty and the hounds barked and howled,
His comrades raged and cussed and the cats all hissed and yowled!
Even rattlesnakes were flustered and slithered to hide in dens,
And bands of coyotes skulked to seek cover in the nearby fens.
Frenzied birds vacated their cozy nests and fled to distant climes,
And Cookie got upset since the guys couldn't hear his supper chimes!
The grizzled old ranch boss called Hank aside fer a serious session,
Sayin', "Son, you're creatin' havoc 'round hyar with yer damn obsession!
Take yer ass and yodler to swoon the gals at the Dry Gulch Saloon,
'Cause if'n you keep it up 'round hyar, you'll hit the road and soon!"
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(c) 2015 All Rights Reserved
Categories:
squealed, humorous,
Form:
Rhyme
Beasty was a monstrous dog,
An Irish Wolfhound he.
If you saw him bounding towards you,
You'd likely turn and flee.
One day while he was walking 'bout,
He came upon a fight.
Some bigger boys were roughing up,
A small lad gripped with fright.
He recognized the little boy,
As his neighbor, Tyler Green.
A low growl formed in Beasty's throat,
How dare they treat Tyler mean.
Beasty charged into the fray,
His barking fierce and loud.
The bullies squealed and ran away,
Leaving the small boy cowed.
With gentle steps and wagging tail,
Beasty approached the frightened lad.
Then promptly gave his face a lick,
Causing Tyler to smile a tad.
Throwing his arms around the huge dog's neck,
And hugging with all his might,
Tyler thanked the beast for saving him,
And putting the bullies to flight.
Tyler and Beasty became great friends,
Though an odd looking couple they made.
A slight little boy and a monstrous dog,
It was fun watching them as they played.
6/20/13
For Seren's "Little Lad, Big Dog" contest
Categories:
squealed, child, dog,
Form:
Quatrain
I played a nasty joke on Santa
once on Christmas Eve,
I put some exlax in his milk,
and he drank it clean.
(hehe)
Now that’s one Christmas I remember,
Dad sat on the Lu till end of December
Another time we greased the roof
My brother Clay and I,
Hoping to catch Santa
when we heard him cry.
(Nothing)
Another Christmas I couldn’t forget soon,
Dads leg was in a cast, till the middle of June.
The next year we decided to write old Santa
And apologize for our tricks,
I guess old Nick squealed on us,
Cause dad came with THE stick.
(Ouch)
I believe Santa's still mad at me and my brother Clay
Cause he never brings our kids, presents on Christmas day.
(Party pooper)
Written by Brenda Meier-Hans
11.29.2014
Contest: What’s up With Santa
G 4
Categories:
squealed, christmas, fantasy, fun, funny,
Form:
Rhyme
Wildfire
Written: By Tom Wright
3/20/2006
The wildfire’s aftermath has revealed,
Ditches littered with assorted trash.
Wildlife panicked, ran and squealed,
Sections lay barren, as blackened ash.
Houses and barns have met their fate,
And hay, by the ton, is left to smolder.
Volunteer firemen, fighting early to late,
Standing always, shoulder to shoulder.
On men and equipment fire takes its toll,
A burn ban exists throughout the state.
Who starts these fires, what is their goal?
Are they accidental, or just plain hate?
Many have lost all their worldly goods,
And wait while FEMA pinches its dime.
A life’s accumulation, a patch of woods,
Start life over, for some, there isn’t time.
Almost daily we hear the dread word, fire,
Whipped to frenzy by south winds gusting.
Sirens blaring, volunteers must not tire,
For life and limb to them we’re trusting.
Dedicated to the volunteer firemen
Who have faced a monumental task this past year.
Almost daily, wildfires have occurred
Many due to arson.
Categories:
squealed, fire,
Form:
Rhyme
I approached him, astronaut suit tight to my ribs and thighs, but hesitated at the anti-climax of the meeting. We were in the same spacial area but inhabited different worlds because simply I had oxygen and he did not, or it did not. His perceptions couldn’t take him into an ordered relationship with me, his eyes maybe could not love like me, his torso did not spring arms to hug, his head did not glamourise him with hair, and his mouth did not support a controlled tongue which could wield expressive language.
Indigo meeting,
No relationship offered,
Only stares confound.
I wanted to know if he could spout goo, space dirt or even acid, so I took a small step to for him to expose his personality. He squealed, or so I thought he did because I couldn’t hear him in my helmet, and then squirmed just like an enormous worm. He did not apparently have an apprehension of my friendly gesture, but at the same time he did not actively object to my figure, so after a second I returned to my non-controversial position and he circled and circled and did a bit of a dance. I realised then that I could love him as I should as he’d shown me that he understood basic movement and that he had some body rhythm.
First move mine, human,
Any reply, any way, fine,
Gratified maybe.
Taking him home would’ve been perfect, back to earth to enjoy a specially made atmospheric arena, and we would’ve observed him because he would not have been as a teen observed in a glass box or as a person unwell who is sectioned for sedation, but he would’ve had a relationship with me, entertainment, and hopefully fun in his own sphere. We would’ve let him and encouraged him to develop so that he could’ve grown his brain in order that he could’ve spoken to me for him to realise we only wanted to share our humanity with him, love him and learn from his existence. But how could we transport him without accident and with respect for his physiology and his own special systems? Could it be done?
The gem oxygen,
Two worlds expressed bodily,
Oh come back with me!
Categories:
squealed, body, earth, earth day,
Form:
Haibun