Best Tinier Poems
I am a little elf
Tinier than a mouse
I live in a bluebell forest
In a mushroom house
I don’t have a lot of money
If I did that would be cool
I could upgrade my living quarters
Into a top of the range toadstool
Living in a mushroom house
Has its down side you see
Pesky giants keep coming along
And take it for their tea
If I could afford a poisonous toadstool
Giants would never come near
And I could live out my days
In peace without any fear
No, giants and I don’t mix
I wish they’d stay clear from my zone
We would get along much better
If they didn’t eat me out of house and home
It seems it’s only me that they pick on
I really don’t know why
If they stopped eating, got to know me well
They’d see I was quite a ‘fungi’
A microscopic arachnid
tinier than a poppy seed
spins diminutive filaments
barely visible to the eye;
a spiral silk lacework deathtrap
for infinitesimal prey
strung high between white cornered walls
in a microcosmical world.
Is its existence more trifling
than mine that occupies more space?
Perhaps not, in the scheme of things:
my universe among the stars
is imperceptibly smaller
than this occupants’ in my room.
In the catalogue picture I saw
Such a gemstone that filled me with awe.
Oh, but I should have known
That ring’s smaller than shown -
At least SEVEN times tinier. BAH!
Written April 17, 2016 for Contest that closed 4/28
Nww used for the Second Chance #3 Poetry Contest of Broken Wings
It's pretty much all I have to enter this time!
To what may I most worthily compare
The tinier, fatter fingers of this newborn?
To breathe of softness his delicate fingers
Which by one definition one is able
To swallow one by one like cherry-flower snow!
As she drinks nectar from a flower, sweetness from heaven falls like dew
anointed with a gentle rain amidst sun showers she appears as if on cue
Lifting her wings she lands on a Zinnia beneath a tinted sky of April blue
flight of fancy fanning fast, fabulous marvel, she is beauty true on true
She flitted from flower to flower, and I thought she'd landed in my hair
Perhaps the sweet-scented spray attracted her, this lady butterfly, so fair
Then, she flew to suckle the white jasmine blooms, on delicate wings
I was mesmerized and felt my heart beats as if they were flutterings
Quite still I stood as she hovered before gently landing upon my finger
Each flap of her beautiful velvety wings made me wish she would linger
Upon the morning's breeze she was carried until resting on a marigold
I chased away a bumblebee who got near to her. I thought, "How bold!"
I watched the Monarch lay her eggs, each tinier than a mustard seed
upon her well-chosen birthing place, a tender green leaf of milkweed
She hovered for a while longer, as if she pondered about her decision
to leave her precious offspring, but she'd given them new life's provision
Food to eat when into little caterpillars they'd develop when hatched
She'd done all she could to assure her eggs had been firmly attached
It was very intoxicating for me and of the experience I had to write
about watching a butterfly do flyovers in my yard before taking flight
I admit having watched her as if she were dancing around me today
kept me on the lookout for predators that might steal her eggs away
It began with a replicator
probably in the sea
an insignificant little cray-tor
much tinier than a bee
Didn't have mouth or teeth
or a fancy Latin name
not even a will to out-compete
others exactly the same
But nought is really perfect
mistakes can easily arrive
so, sadly the odd defect
meant some did not survive
Yet some had good errors
and these did well and thrived
passed their wee advantage
to their offspring born alive
And so it went on and then
aeons drifted past
on and on without end
until we came here at last
And while we contemplated
man's place in this celestial scheme
We discovered it ain't that complicated
We're just variations on a theme
So when you look towards the sky
scratch your had or scrunch yer nose
Imagine that if you were to die
all you'd do is decompose
Form:
We had to hop the fence to see this Kansas property better.
Initially got cut up by sharp thorns, stickers and brambles
Fought our way past giant spider webs, wondering about snakes.
Oak trees surrounding the property encouraged us, so we kept going.
My legs were bleeding and I was in a terrible mood until suddenly
I was standing in the most beautiful meadow God could have imagined.
My husband and I were both silent looking at the fields of Queen Anne’s lace
Wild daisies, renegade iris and wild strawberries, peeked at us, and laughed.
I had never in my prettiest dreams imagined any land this beautiful in Kansas.
The air felt happier, there was a monarch, and tinier yellow butterflies.
My hopes soared to full optimism power, and my heart leapt a little
I turned to my husband. He was entranced. He said, “We have to buy this!”
That was twelve years ago. Best purchase ever. I chant and drum now.
I hug my trees. I am watched carefully by raccoon, fox, and deer.
I am one with nature, one with myself, and one with God.
This is what a beautiful landscape in Kansas has done for me.
Mid morning in the now leafy white poplar, tall and symmetrical,
four flashing light and dark magnificent magpies tea leaf, steal the
mannerisms of tinier wagtails by moving their tails up and down dancing
around from branch to branch leading following each other and chattering
away as though they have nothing else to do all day, for on this lovely day
their instincts start to do what all other young adult creatures do in Spring.
THE ARTICLES
In the field of physics and chemistry
Out of every jot and tittle
The atom was smallest there could be
It was so very little
But we found a way to split it
Now that we are so much wiser
Even tinier bits emitted!
It was just an appetiser
[Some think e=mc squared
Would be better left unknown
But once it had been bared
We just could not leave it alone]
Now if parts of language we list
Then the smallest bit or particle
(And I'm finally getting to my gist)
- has got to be the article
In China they're more spectacular
A different one for every noun
But in the English vernacular
We've just two to cast around
There's the precise and proper DEFINITE
With that you know where you are bound
But with the INDEFINITE there's a deficit
Of precision; you're on shaky ground
We could split them a little more
With linguistic synchro cyclotron
Create articles galore
And double our national lexicon
Still I'm happy to tell you A truth
Since, to choose from, there'll be a lot
But to tell THE truth in sooth
That would put me on the spot
So take care with these little words
Though they seem so small like a crumb
Trivial, trifling and for the birds
Used wrong they'll peck you on the bum
As quasar mixes the starry dust,
a newly formed planet en route’s a must;
new universes revealed beyond black holes
captivating stories are yet to be told.
Tiny newborn sails saturnian seas,
a Venus flyby in Saggittarius is a breeze;
absolute magnitude in glimmer sails on by,
soon new space he will occupy.
Whoops! Now dodging meteor shower,
a bruise or two won’t slow his power;
he’s on his very own spiritual quest
for new horizons where he will rest.
He’ll take his place amid the fold,
his travel stories yet to be told;
to tinier planets that he will meet,
he’ll even brighten eclipsing binary.
He’ll take his place in man’s Ephemerides,
oh the astrologers he’ll guide with ease;
to alter man’s future by their birth stars,
providing them with fascinating memoirs.
No planet in any galaxy,
will mess with this star’s alchemy.
He’s on a mission, this tiny young one,
his planetary cycle for millennia will run.
When you spy him there in your glass eye,
be sure to shout, “Hello, Goodbye”,
as he races across your galaxy,
you’ll marvel at his pageantry.
My psychologist said I'm bipolar. I told him I wouldn't have sex with either a male
or a female polar bear.
Bipolar? You gotta be kidding- I've never been to the north or the south pole!
Bipolar? Why in the world would I buy a pole? I don't even speak polish.
What they say about us trailer-trash folks is more than true. My next door
neighbor has a red pick-up truck, with an engine so untuned, you could hear it in
Spain. Wears plaid shirts, weighs 350 pounds, has a rifle rack in his pick up, the
sight is kind of scary. And his yard looks like something I'd describe as a cross
between the Sanford and Son yard and the Texas Chainsaw Massacre. His
blinds are torn down the middle. There are enough parts of things about to start
a fresh industrial revolution. Sadly, he is the most sophisticated person in this
park. You gotta see when the mail truck comes, people come out of nowhere,
swarm about the mailboxs, like a scene out of the "Body Snatchers" where the
truck full of alien pods arrives, and people come out of nowhere. I mean, in this
park TV Guide is considered great literature!! I want outta' here! How did I wind
up here? What was I thinking?
So here we go again, my friends....Remember my offer of a free Tootsie Roll for
any comments, no matter how insulting (I'm used to that). chow
Santa’s elves do love a Christmas sing-a-long,
you can bet Santa’s will never go wrong.
There’s cookies, cakes, pies, punch and hot cocoa
with cinnamon, nutmeg and ginger spice, you know.
When playing the organ Mrs. Claus is a whizz;
really, she should be in show biz.
Billy Bob passes out the music sheets,
while Mitzy and Millie bring out the eats.
Lil’Jim sits propped on his old oak cane,
the poor fella has some sciatic pain.
He shares his music book with Jake and Phil,
though young Jake’s voice is a tad bit shrill.
Skippy-Sam is a great baritone,
Grampy Gabbs needs to wear earphones.
The tinier elves sing in funny voices,
everyone laughs and rejoices.
Tiger Tooney the cat’s voice is a bit flat;
probably because he’s half bobcat.
As usual McNafferty wields his hand-carved baton,
for he truly loves directing a sing-a-long.
Now this can go on for hours and hours,
days or nights, that’s Santa’s power.
Through the winter should you hear faint singing,
it’s the Claus’s and their elves voices ringing.
You still remember how the sweetness of my heart made it cheaper
Maybe you didn't deserve any better
Baby now you're looking so thin
So let me feed you with a spoon
I have jelly and peanut butter
Let me learn where to place my legs
Baby now you're looking so thin
Let me feed you with a spoon
With times when I was truer to myself
You still remember how concrete my fear was
In the summer I'll keep on bringing to you my best cherries
Here where we are it's always freezing
So I'll go and find flowers on the field
You particitipate in life more often
So I put on my wings to remind you of the innocence we once shared
Let me feed you with cherries
I couldn't get any tinier underneath this blanket
Maybe it's wrong, this time I left them at the door
You ask me questions, you're yellow and pink
Now they come to me and ask me how silly I can get
None of that was real
But I write stories too
We learned our lines through reading
Let me open the window
And check if my rays are in sync
1st Place Winner
As she drinks nectar from a flower, sweetness from heaven falls like dew anointed with a gentle rain amidst sun showers she appears as if on cue
Lifting her wings she lands on a Zinnia beneath a tinted sky of April blue flight of fancy fanning fast, fabulous marvel, she is beauty true on true
She flitted from flower to flower, and I thought she'd landed in my hair Perhaps the sweet-scented spray attracted her, this lady butterfly, so fair
Then, she flew to suckle the white jasmine blooms, on delicate wings I was mesmerized and felt my heart beats as if they were flutterings
Quite still I stood as she hovered before gently landing upon my finger Each flap of her beautiful velvety wings made me wish she would linger
Upon the morning's breeze she was carried until resting on a marigold I chased away a bumblebee who got near to her. I thought, "How bold!"
I watched the Monarch lay her eggs, each tinier than a mustard seed upon her well-chosen birthing place, a tender green leaf of milkweed
She hovered for a while longer, as if she pondered about her decision to leave her precious offspring, but she'd given them new life's provision
Food to eat when into little caterpillars they'd develop when hatched She'd done all she could to assure her eggs had been firmly attached
It was very intoxicating for me and of the experience I had to write about watching a butterfly do flyovers in my yard before taking flight
I admit having watched her as if she were dancing around me today kept me on the lookout for predators that might steal her eggs away
Copyright © Lin Lane | Year Posted 2025
Through the shadow I emerged
Far from the farthest I peeped
from gate to gate
from door to door
I saw a land
A green land
A strange land.
Aloof I stood
With sword dangling and clattering.
A war or a battle, I watched.
The weakest, a means unknown, slain the fittest.
The strangest land!
The strangest thing!
Praise and reward not for good deed.
'brace and hug, a gift for a proud Judas and
champions
of evil.
The loudest you cry, the tinier the gaol.
A spiky bridge between the less and the creams.
In the strangest land
Solace rests in hibernation.
Wake me when HE comes back.