Best Stripy Poems
Poor little Zena zebra was feeling oh so sad
She was born an albino, which made her look bad
Zena desperately wanted to fit in with the others
And have a stripy body like her sisters and brothers
Zena thought hard and came up with a cunning plan
She would paint some stripes, so she’d have great élan
Zena went shopping in a local hardware store
Bought some black paint for the stripes she’d adore
Her stripes were brushed on by a trusted friend
But quickly the can of paint came to an end
Sadly Zena hadn’t got any more money
Her half painted body looked rather funny
How the other zebra’s laughed at poor Zena
They called her names; they couldn’t be meaner
But good luck was on little Zena’s side that day
The rain lashed down and washed the paint away
For Zena had purchased watercolour paint
Now Zena’s back to white and she has no complaint
She stands out in the crowd because she is unique
Yes she’s different from the others but her look is oh so chic
Zena stands proudly in her white coat which shines so bright
She is delighted to say not everything in life is black and white
Moral of the story it is our differences that make us unique
A delightful Children’s fable Contest Sponsored by Carol Eastman.
Submitted to z contest old or new
Sponsored by Constance La France
07~10~16
Terra cotta, craggy rocks
Scattered boulders, building blocks
In shades of sienna, ochre, buff
To form this high and hilly bluff
With sunlit ledges thin and wide
Place for hyraxes to sun and hide
Cerulean, azure, clearest blue
The cloudless sky that does imbue
Aquamarine lake, with cobalt tints
To gently ripple with sparkling hints
Of gleaming, flashy, silvery scales
With speckled bodies and stripy tails
Chartreuse, dappled, shades of green
Of forest, jade and so serene
Leafy, verdant canopy high
With soft and breezy, gently sigh
While down below in shades of lime
Fragrant flowers so sublime
Scented blossoms in fuchsia flush
And ripening berries in magenta blush
And poppies scarlet, crimson reds
Among saffron yellow daisy heads
With tangerine buds on sage green stems
And luminous violets these little gems
While in the distance, misty rose
Of lavender mountains in repose
Against a background, lilac-puce
And threadlike clouds not yet profuse
Blending into salmon pink
As the sun begins to sink
Plain glass inside the window frame
Now stained with colors of fiery flame
The last rays of sunlight on the glass
In incandescent reflecting rays of brass
And the ethereal golden radiance of day
Passing into evening’s own bouquet
Where’s Wally? where’s Wally?
The customers all cried
Where’s Wally? Where’s Wally?
Do you think he’s gone outside
It’s market day, it’s busy
It just shouldn’t be allowed
We’re never going to find him
If he’s out there in the crowd
We know he’s got his glasses
Woolly hat and stripy vest
It’s kind of like a camouflage
He blends in with the rest
Where’s Wally? Where’s Wally?
Wherever can he be
Don’t worry, here’s Wally
He was sitting next to me
Zebras are stripy I’m sure you can see,
Yaks chewing cud as slow as can be,
X-ray tetra in the aquarium are seen,
Warthogs with curly, white tusks that gleam,
Vertebrates aplenty, some invertebrates too,
Usually are seen at a visit to a zoo.
Tapirs with their long funny noses,
Slithering snakes in glass fronted enclosures,
Roaring tigers with camouflage stripe,
Quizzical otters eat eggs that they like,
Puma black prowls through the bush,
Orange orangutans needing a brush.
Never one to refuse a tasty dish
Macaroni penguins smell of fish,
Lions in the sunlight all day sleeping,
Komodo dragons quietly creeping,
Javan Rhinoceros with skin like armour,
Indian elephants size makes such drama,
Hippos with their mouths open wide,
Galapagos tortoise, oh what a prize!
Fennec fox with really long ears,
Endangered animals that people fear,
Dangerous animals taking a nap,
Caiman and crocodile waiting to snap,
Bold zoo keepers picking up poo,
All able to be seen at a trip to the zoo.
Fish and chips salty air
Big fat bottoms sat on stripy deck chairs
Sticks of rock candy floss and bottles of soda pop
Sand castles and buckets and spades
Dad with binoculars pretending to look out to sea
But looking at the bikini hot babes
Little child paddles in the sea
Little child has a pee
Ice cream and jellyfish
Punch and Judy ventriloquists
Bare flesh everywhere sea breeze tussles hair
Walruses laid on beach towels everywhere
Courting couples walking hand in hand
Games of cricket and Beach ball on the sand
Annoying music steaming from someone's radio
A scream goes out as a crab bites someone's toe
The smell of suntan lotion mixed with sweat
And the smell of cigarettes
Waves rolling upon the shore
A baby wanting it's diaper changing lets out a might roar
Burgers and hot dog's from a van
Guy's with muscles parading the beach as though saying to the girls
Look at me I'm all real man
As the girls giggle and wiggle
As the hot Sun smiles down
On a day by the sea.
Peter Dome.Copyright.2015. May.
‘I rant until i tattle.’
An old man said to me.
With boulders brass in battle
For Country, Queen and sea.
Lest not aghast a fattie,
Good heavens or abode.
We cannot simper- EVER!
For mighty frog or toad.
My clumbus, brood and brattice
Have left and faded dim,
Yet i shall stay with Stumpy
For clopper, clop and Jim.
Discounting Morris Upskate,
A ginger by default.
He keeps us musing nicely
For peace and calm revolt.
Take up thy stripy cornflake
And all who sail within,
And use the little peabus
For losing, draw or win.
And with a hanson blackie,
We clubber what we sow,
Go barphing like a windmill,
For friends we do not know.
Small furry, stripy, cuddly puss makes
Lots of noise as the early dawn breaks
And so the reluctant household wakes.
“Get out of bed now,
Come down and feed us for all our sakes,
We’re on our last miaow.”
The household can but do as it’s told,
This tabby cat is exceedingly bold.
So from my bed and into the cold
I creep to provide
The feline breakfasts as I was told,
With some milk beside.
This tabby cat is plump and quite cute,
Bossy and nurse-like, a real old boot,
Her every whim always bears fruit,
She bustles about.
She’s Hattie Jacques in a tabby suit,
Matronly with clout.
Her fur is sleek, her voice is sublime
What will she be like given more time?
Her bossy manner isn’t a crime.
Sometimes she holds back.
Her friend, an alpha cat in his prime
Is leader of the pack.
Rain - A Didactic Cinquain
Rain
Misty, sweet
Pelting, dewing, precipitating
Ever so warmish
Rainwater
Spring rain
Droplets wet, refreshing
Delighting, happening, crying
It was a surprise to us all
Cloud
Cloudy rain
Wonderful, stripy
Jumping, swimming, rolling
Such feelings of happiness
Thing
3/29/19
by James Edward Lee Sr ©2019
I sprouted from a small seed planted firmly in the ground
With refreshing drinks of water my size it can confound!
My long legs must be supported, or I could stoop and bend
I love being out of doors where the sun is my best friend!
I’m a great sun worshipper and my face follows the sun
I tower over small plants, being tall is so much fun
On sunny days I tan my face; my seeds turn golden brown
Small children look up at me, hoping that my seeds drop down!
I’ve been told that I’m the tallest bloom in the flower bed
Some think I’m conceited, I’ve got such a giant head
Birds attack my face when they peck my tasty stripy seeds
It doesn't bother me at all, I’ll cater for their needs!
136 words
Personification Poem 150 poetry Contest
Sponsored by Caren Krutsinger
05/28/21
I was walking through the jungle one bright sunny day.
When a bright spotted tiger came walking up to say.
“Hello, Hello there, how are you?.
I’m very well, hope you are too”.
Just as I started to talk, I tripped up and fell to my knees
And off shot the tiger into the trees.
As I walked on, I saw a snake.
It was yellow and stripy, like a colourful cake
It had diamonds of colour all up its spine.
It had beautiful brown eyes
Very similar to mine.
It suddenly hissed at me and stuck out its tongue
With that, I turned round and started to run
I saw lots of creatures on my jungle walk.
Some could fly and some even could talk.
I saw snakes and lizards and birds and mice.
Some looked ugly and some looked nice.
I loved it in the jungle.
I wish that I could stay.
I’ve got to go home now.
But I’ll be back one day.
Beneath a bearded tree I sat
Expecting on a gaze,
When interview a headless hat
Came whiffling through the haze.
For laffs he wore a slight of grin,
And luck a charmless arm.
Four feathers grew upon his chin.
His steptwin was a farm.
Good Rooter with his tranquilize
Spread fat across the land.
To bleat the water from his cries
And polish up his hand.
‘Beware the Moo!’ A Cow called out,
His udders clothed in drag.
‘Beware its hook and pout-ful shout.
Its Moo-beams in a bag!’
Beneath a bearded tree I sat
Re-musing on the dayz.
When interview a stripy cat
Came whiffling through the haze.
Meetings part one....A moon is neither a plant nor a weapon so never sit in a washing basket at ninety eight degrees. And a tick tocking plant is available for hop scotch games. Timed over frontiers and available to view in a slip stream. Hang gliding sparrows then. They dive to skies unseen. Whilst horses in cars kick out no fumes as fumes belong to plates of rotting peas in a disorganised kitchen. Speeches from a rhino make the bees tap dance. But when trapping an ant one must place a teaspoon to entice. Moonlit menagerie many monsters moving. *** armament aflame. *** antacid alter *** clandestine cinemas *** luminous .... Meetings part two....Circular wisdom robotic wisdom of a once well fed leaf. Orangutans race across the well placed floors of a once dusty landscapes when acrid moons sip a passing juice of sea bud. The flares from a dome can be found in worldwide chains. But never let it be said that upon mastery of sun chiming the turning flame could alter even the most dormant of chasm. Thus releasing the glows. Ejecting powerfully with great force. In a constant ever increasing united wave. Fathom not a thread. It is to be of great peril. As balance and footsteps are very carefully counted by a nine metre sea slug who buries items if antiquity on a beach. Often during a sandstorm. A reason unsaid is a goblin ghost. Woo woo nightshade collapse. So go paint a plant then. Several sheets of toilet paper are often akin to paperwork in print. Circulating a very stale air. All pop. Yogurt pots are empty. Please do fill yet no film is of the fodder of the diet of royals. And royalties are only marginally accepted by crafting a large diagram of a field to delay deliveries. Justice delivered in a strawberry jam. Strawberries are the wisest fruit. Dance with a heifer, a snake, and a very wise stripy frog. Erogenously placed power porks pickling places potently. When a free bird cackles. As a bud erupts. Volcanic arts in a sky. Xx radiation xx branches *** during dinner dance do *** culminated clapping clam xx and healing hippos plus 48% of a dangling dandelion in a sarong. Xx fashionable. *** dutiful deity. *** horsemen hounds. *** tea sedation *** representation *** oink oink oink b 4 q
I almost forgot to look up today,
And see the setting sun throw stripes across the sky,
My mind was clouded with worries from work,
Thoughts bouncing and replaying around an exhausted head,
A whirl, a tired mess,
No room even for the music of my car radio,
I had to switch it off,
A head that was too full,
Grinding teeth and drooping eyes my reward for the day.
Then my eyes caught sight of the trees gently dancing in the wind,
A small, wooden bird house nestling in a garden,
The jagged shapes of the waves on the lake I drive past,
The ancient ruins of the castle on the hill,
Life has gone on outside my day at work,
And my day could have been more beautiful than I ever imagined.
When I went to the funeral today,
I pondered the life that was lost,
I questioned my own mortality,
No matter what a life looks like,
That funeral is what it ends in,
A beer in a shabby Working Men’s Club and a stale sausage roll.
So do I want to miss the stripy skies or go a day without feeling the wind on my cheeks?
No.
For one day it may all be far from me,
I may be absent and lost,
And I don’t know where my soul will lie,
Or what it will have missed.
One thing I have learned today,
Is that if I can learn to let go,
I will learn to live fuller and longer.
Cats
Patiently, cats eyed, alert and poised for action;
More than ready to eat, not greet, or fuss affectionately,
'She’busies herself with the important work
of savaging your rucksack straps;
‘He’, inspecting cupboards and wincing at draughts,
looks on, anticipating some small attention –
Yet once given, a disdainful shrug soon sees that off..
Playfully dangerous, exuding feline charm and allure
Each personality formed by the pursuits of Maslow.
Feed me, water me, toilet me, feed me, pay attention. Love?
All day they sleep like furry mobile book-ends.
By evening, demonic playtime will often ensue;
Manic theatrical leaps and pseudo-violent endeavour
to be replaced in an instant at the sound of an impending snack.
Purrfectly adorable, yet lethally ‘talonted’
Small facsimiles of eviscerative power
our stripy smiling assassins lie innocuous and still;
Their telepathic alertness, switching from deepest sleep
to instantaneous and righteous indignation at a sound:
Snap To!! Reminding us that, whilst we care,
our feline guests are but one mouthful from feral animosity..
They purr, not to say “Hello” or “Thank you for your kindness!”
but because they can. These sybaritic existentialists -
refugees of other worldliness, extensions of the moon,
replete with chirrups, meows, and other audio trickery.
Besides, if we knew we truly gave them pleasure
Then all power would evaporate and our love affair
With warm things bright and beautiful, would end!
Even amongst the hums and whirrs and hisses
coming from behind the counter
Its so easy
In the pretentious mist of this artsy café
To pick up
And draw on
The stained remains of conversation;
Some so Avant Garde
Andy Warhol would vomit.
Drenched in pomposity
Peppered with multi-syllabic phrase,
And thoughtful hums between beard strokes.
These are the philosophers and future prime ministers to be.
Full of words and the dedication of a dying fish,
with a stench and jounce to match.
The girl in the stripy top wants to be heard
Flicking her mane rhythmically as she giggles
Obnoxiously at her friends bad jokes.
Donned with that oh so vintage-esque scarf (its warm inside)
And a rock-n-roll T-shirt.
Both pierced with todays hottest jewelery; They are different
Like every other alternative wanna be wandering the street.
Nobody told them its in what you do that counts.
I would love to pick up *** ends here
But I am shy and enjoy being an orange chameleon
Set against the pine tables and chairs
Worn by an unquenchable caffeine and image addiction.
The artists, musicians and hippies should gather here,
Just to off set the skinny jeans
And influential teens engulfed by an overrated image.
At least the coffee is good,
And the waitress is cute with a genial smile.
The art and décor, inspired.
I'll probably keep coming back.