Best Zebra Poems


Premium Member The Zebra Mystique

I want to ride a zebra

   and race the rays of radiance
       through heat-waves’ sailing gradients -

     a folly wild - a mood untamed
   elated hands in bristled mane
unbridled veins uncorked champagne...

   yes! elevate sedate heart rate
     I WANT to ride a zebra

        stripes yin yang oasis sweet and
          whimsy rules a drumroll beat as

        gallop sways euphoric roughness
      crossing plains of dreamy lushness -
    steed’s exotic tender toughness
  pacing thrills in state of luscious...

yes! animate to sate my wait
   I want to RIDE a zebra
 
         savanna grass a grand expanse
            a lion’s roar - hyena's rant 
          amuse myself with peril’s speed
     adventure sows romantic’s seed... so

         gestate date with fancy’s fate
YES! I want to ride a  Z E B R A !

Zebra

Allow altruistic artistry among ailing american adversaries.
Bartering begins before begging beasts break brothers.
Capture calamity controlling catastrophe calming castration.
Dedicate decisions directed down dreary deaf disillusionment.
Eradicate equality earning efficient energetic epiphany.
Follow fallen foreigners forgetting faithful flight from fluid folly.
Gasping greatness growing grapes given golden goodness.
Halt hollow hearts hearing helpless happiness.
Imagine impurity imitating indestructible ice inflicting impotent illness.
Justify jolly jerusalem jingling janitors joining january’s jewelry.
Kill kindergarten kings kicking kindly kindred kilts.
Lament likeable links lingering lowly light like lavender letters.
Mount monetary moments melting motherly marshal monuments.
Negate nightly notions noticing nurtured naughty nakedness.
Open oblivious obligation of odd operative oceans.
Propagate proposed premonitions producing proud pirate papas.
Quiet quilted questions quickly quoting quaint qualm quandary.
Remember righteous royalty returning rotten remnant rage.
Skip silent sulking surrounding super salty sounds squeezing sanity.
Teach talented tearful tyrants total trivial topics training treason.
Utter utopian universality upon united unitarian usurpers.
Violate vermin validity valuing victorious vomiting virgin volunteers.
Wash wandering women wondering whether western whiteness welcomes war.
X-ray xeric xenophobic xylem-made xebec.
Yearn yellow yearlings yelling yonder yuletide yachtsmen.
Zebra.

Premium Member The Fashion Zebra

The Fashion Zebra

I am a flake. 
That is the term for people that do not follow through. 
It may not be fair. I have spent my whole life avoiding the title. 
I crossed every tee, dotted all the eyes… 
and followed rules real, and make believe…
Now. It no longer matters. 

I am exactly what you see. 
I write about the weather, cooking mushrooms in broth, 
the underwater zoo in Williams, along with other various,
worthy subjects of interest to no one. 

I carry a phone and often use it as a coaster. 
It brings me messages once or twice a month 
and does not honestly believe me, 
when I say, “your fired”.
Alas, I still have a landline, to find it, 
when I am yet, desperate for its call. 

I wear pj’s to the market, my bathing suit to the post box. 
I paint murals and laugh at the way leaves fall from trees, in patterns. 
I am not longing to grow up, get married, have kids, nor put things into order. 
I want to splash in pools, taste ice-cream made from green tea and hunt for spiders.
The world is no longer full of boundaries to be broken, 
They have been erased. 
Completely.
I am free.
© Ann Foster  Create an image from this poem.


Premium Member Zealous Zena Zebra

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

Zebra

My father is black,
my mother is white
These be the birthright
of my stripes
I'm despised by blacks,
I'm hated by whites
All because of my zebra stripes
I live in both worlds,
but is accepted by neither
I'm an outcast,
a rejected soul
I am a zebra,
a most rare creature
For most of my life,
I've been shunned and only shown hate
But in return, I've tried to only give love
This makes me a rare animal,
someone with a pure soul
I am a zebra,
born to be hate-free
I proudly bear the stripes
that don't define me
I'm more than what you see;
I am a black knight on a white horse,
I am a white knight on a black horse ...
fighting against the vessels of hate
I carry only love in my bowels,
my ship always stays on course
My destination is eternity ...
maybe now you wish you were more like me
A zebra is who I be

Zebra Crossing

One by one
          We follow each other 
Come humps and bumps in life
          We jump them all
Sometimes with slips and falls
Sometimes we are stranded
Sometimes we are waiting 
   But most times we are crossing


Premium Member Zebra

The zebra:
An optical illusion
That tricks your sight,
Not colour, not HD ready,
But just in black and white.

An African sales success,
Of great pride it’s the source,
Cleverly marketed as …
A bar-coded horse.

Call Me Zebra

The hot savannah in late September 
Too far back to quite remember
Born in plains surrounded by the sands
An oasis of the treeless woodlands
To be uniquely chic I always tried
Yet it never showed on my solid hide 

One day hiding from cheetahs in tall grass
With my stubborn cousin, (he’s an ass)
I noticed our complete lack of camouflage
And sparked an idea fleeing their barrage
We zig-zagged an escape from jaws and paws
And set to work on my mono-color flaws
Happily braying proud a-ha’s from my pipes
I trotted around showing off new painted stripes
Blending in reeds better than a horse
Looking suave and stylish too, of course

Jealous mammals barely keep control
When I strut my stuff at the watering hole
Drooling and licking lips in envy
Carnivores can’t keep their eyes off me 

So to boring old coats, hasta la vista
Now I’m a savvy equine fashionista
Savannah’s newly striped and charming Libra
Hey lion’s and hyena’s, you can call me Zebra 
*Wink* 
*Sassy mane toss*
…..*RUUUN!

Premium Member Zebra

Running across the plains as lions give chase
  The zebra stands out, its stripes won't erase
 Surviving is key, it's a daily fight
  It's all laid out in black and white
 The zebra comes to a river, now it must cross
   But in this river crocodiles are boss
 It  hesitates before plunging in,
  Barely escaping the jaws of death, but  that's a win
 The zebra survives yet another day
  In the  battle between predator and prey
                       ----------
© Joseph May  Create an image from this poem.

Color Your Zebra Stripes

The dreams are the ones who enjoy our lives
So jump of the cliff and denounce your ride
Never look back, for single fly
Or to the unpredictable sky

Don’t let the thunder announce your demur  
Shine to the future on your dry hands
Color your zebra stripes
Dace to the narrated smile of a wrinkled woman electing to part
To me all of us are fools
We are just ponies on a stride 
There is no one who can empathize 

We are in that simple transaction of life
Yet the one who will define our lives
Birds, follow your dreams
Climb the tallest wall, otherwise tear Berlin down
Stay close to your own footsteps
It will turn your predicted past

Put away your dolls, but keep them
They will soon rise to the light
Let the green surround you, and enrich you with its forceful gist 
Sit back, but don’t unwind 
It’s what we do now that will define our drive 

Drive far away and write your path
The footsteps on the sand are the letters of your own book
The remains of your friendships are grips of your dance 
Don’t be afraid of loosing a gasp of air
Keep hope on your save box and throw away the lock  
Let it drown to the bottom of the ocean, 
Let the wind take you by
Far, far, far …

The Tiger and the Zebra

They can be seen through the bars and behind the glass
Some have fancy patterns and others with stripes
They run and hide so they can’t be seen
If you get too close they can get real mean
But they are irresistible, like a magnet to steel
So the people keep coming day after day
With their cameras and video devices
To make a memory for their friends to see
Some are exotic and others are erotic
Fun to watch in their native land
Others make you sad, wish to lend a hand
Everyone has their favorite posted on the wall
In books, computers, and cameras too
They seem to be everywhere for all to see
They thrive on attention and strive for fame
But now they’re cadged in their own little world
Without escape…  only left with their dreams
So they’re watched behind the glass or through the bars
Like a tiger… or a zebra

The Day the Zebra Met the Panda

"The Day The Zebra Met The Panda"


It was 
inevitable, 
that one day,
these two would meet!
They shared something
so deep in common,
it was as solid 
as concrete!

Said the Zebra 
to the Panda,
"Do you wonder 
why this way 
we are?"
Replied the Panda 
to the Zebra,
"Once I too 
thought this  
"bizarre!"

"Everyone else 
is in 
technicolor
except.... 
you and I! 
We are simply 
colored with 
black and white!",
was the Zebra's 
reply!

"I used to think 
that looking 
different
meant there 
was something 
wrong.
I would look 
and see
all this color 
around me,
and for color 
I did so long!"

"Please tell me this", 
asked the Panda,
"How do you see yourself?
Are you 
black with white stripes,
or 
white with black stripes?....
I've wondered 
this about 
myself!"

Then came 
this reply 
from 
the Zebra,
with a big smile 
on his face,
"To tell you the truth
I don't give it 
much thought,
The way I look
I do gladly 
embrace!"

"See.... 
we were made 
to look different!
Everyone else
is somewhat 
the same!
You and I 
are like 
no one else!....
That is our 
proclaim 
and our fame!"

"You know you're right!"
said the Panda!
"I hadn't 
thought of it 
that way!
I'm glad to have 
finally met you
on this 
wondrous,
insightful day!"

"So we should 
be happy
as to who 
we are
and continue 
to grow
and to strive!"
They both 
chuckled
and said-
"Yeah.... 
Right On To Us!"
Then they gave 
each other
a "High Five!"

The moral to this
is quite simple
and it's 
very easy 
to see-
the next time
you see 
yourself
in the mirror,
smile and say....
"I'm happiest being me!"

Zebra Haiku

Zebras are not bad,
They are beautiful creatures, 
Majestic they are.
© Haiku Man  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member - Zebra -

Zebra
                                        hunt for stripes
                                     Read between lines ~
                         White with black ... black with white ~
                                               tattoo






07.05.2019
Sun :) - A-L Andresen :)
Copyright © All Rights Reserved

Writing Challenge 1, May 2019
Theme # 3
Cinqku- Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Dear Heart 
www.howmanysyllables
5th place in the contest

The Sick Zebra

A zebra looked in the mirror one day

His stripes were fading from black to green

His eyes looked sallow and his stomach upset

Like when he ate too much candy on Halloween


He took some brown paint and covered his green stripes

Remembering the color wheel from third grade art

Brown plus green equals a return to black

He looked in the mirror and said, “Gee whiz! I’m smart!”


Written by Gwendolen Rix
5-20-14
For my grandson Sebastian

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