When ravens croak at mid of night
Their echoes spiral to the sky,
A solemn sound shifts on the breeze,
A sullen chill flows in the high.
My mind commences to roam free,
A darkened thought begins to chime
Distant shadows, I start to see,
Or maybe just the turning time.
I sense their voices sharp and deep,
A language I can almost guess,
Secrets that the tree leaves keep,
While the world waltzes warmly to rest.
I listen close and hold my breath,
Shaping myself to greet my plight,
Reminisce life and silent death
In the grim darkness of the night.
Perhaps not death, just quiet rest,
While the weather is cold and grey,
As ravens know what serves me best
To grace the earth anew someday.
If Trump were to croak, say, by slipping on a slice of papaya,
how long before his ilk would see it as a heavenly sign and run it by a
biblical scholar who would then be given the imperative
to scour the Bible to come up with a plausible narrative
to prove that Trump's death was another example of a suffering messiah?
The Cat used to brag to all the guys
Because he won first place for most lives.
Then the frog said with glee,
"Not more have you than me,
I croak every night…I win the prize!"
Frog croaks for rain,
Cock invites the sun, Pain brings gain, Point out likes gun.
Baby loves toys,
Moon gives light , Play increases joy , And dress makes us bright.
There once was a cocky male frog
Who met a cute toad on a log
She thought he said “Ribbit”
In fact, he said “Rub it”
Now he’s belly-up in the bog.
He has great expectations and dreams
They are to be accomplished
Blockades and obstacles are to be dispersed
He is smarter than his wisdom and effort
He forces his way through
Pushing down, kicking and stepping
He is a man, a frog that cannot jump
But used to walk
But tries to jump like a frog
He always changes his party and loyalty
Anyway he is better than a toad
Which just likes to croak
But he is better than a tadpole
Which is still young with little experience
And no chance to jump
However I am hestitate to vote
And don't know what symbol
To choose, to cross and to be loyal to
I'm just an old folk
So ignorant and innocent to politics all this time
And used to believe that
Only frog can jump vigorously
Learn to say ‘Sorry’ to who is broke:
Don’t him near to make of it a joke,
Even if you were to him Nice Bloke
Or playfully would his rib-cage poke;
He’s now saddled with burdensome yoke
And easily could in whisky soak.
Remember it’s ‘Sorry’ to The Broke
Rib-cracking it might be leave your joke
The once-tuneful voices, a croak
So Trifling Words - For God’s Sake! - don’t fit
Some in helpless chairs cheerfully sit
But soonest mortally themselves hit!
An Indomitable Appetite for Coke
And unstoppable Eater of Egg’s Yolk
Now a full-time Vodka Folk
Who’d a lot of Junk stoke
And keep cracking the oddest jokes;
A way of fighting his scary yoke:
Laughter, twitters and A Toad’s Croak?
Merry tears would his eyes soak
And only last night into a song broke
That poor me rudely awoke …
And I was dying to hit The Bloke
But-Lo!-for minutes freeing cigarette smoke
And pausing to his right ribs poke
And walrus moustache stroke …
From Soft Drinks to The Strong
Dead to pleas to take same as wrong.
There's an app that reminds you
Five times a day
Sends; you
Alerts
That you're going to die
Research shows
It makes us happier
Appreciate
Things more
I discussed this with colleagues
And suggested that
Rather than downloading the app
We could just go
Round the office
Tapping each other on the shoulder
And
Remind one another this way
Sadie on reception
Didn't seem happy about it
She's not
Talking to me now
wecroak.com
My wife ran off with a toad today
He is ancient and ugly and kind of gray
I cannot imagine their roll in the hay
Croak croak troak troak moak moak may
She took my son and my daughter too
Her leaving made me rather angry, all kinds of blue
She said they were going to Chicago to stay
Croak croak troak troak moak moak may
I was irritated for several minutes today
Then I remembered her good-looking cousin, Kay.
I called her up, and we made a date right away.
Croak croak troak troak moak moak may
Wish me luck, for she is sexy with sashay
I want to make a terrific impression on Kay
I am taking her daisies I stole from the fey
Croak croak troak troak moak moak may
Ah, I am at her door, it is the break of day.
Our date was fantastic – merry and gay
I hope the wife and kids never come back to play
Croak croak troak troak moak moak may
Why do frogs croak aloud as though big spell?
Snakes are all around to sing their death knell.
As they just cannot when danger comes, yell,
Frogs know they're ever in great danger dwell.
This world, for them, is less heaven, more hell.
Why do frogs croak aloud as though big spell?
07 July 2021
Bite Size Poem no16 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Line Gauthier
Every Friday on a lilly pond they would meet
Talking about the week was really quite sweet
These frogs came in all different shapes and sizes
However one little frog was full of surprises
To the other frogs on the pond he was a joke
For this little frog I'm afraid couldn't croak
He tried and tried but no croaking came through
His mummy and daddy didn't know what to do
They took him to Doctor frog who saved the day
A little frog in his throat is what he did say
Now this little frog was happy as happy can be
On a lilly pond on a Friday as you can plainly see
I know he croaks, croaks and croaks.
Like a croaker on a rainy day he talks;
He croaks, and I hear his prolonged croak,
Yet why dry dung his throat does choke?
Croak! I know, his croaking is a flaw,
But another’s flaw now begins to glow;
Croak! Croak! I do hear his guttural croak,
Yet why dry dung his throat does choke?
Whizz… a bloodhound flies sky-bound.
There! a dead swan thuds on the ground;
A king a wanton archer inaptly does crown;
Aha! this man now proves king a clown.
This piece is based on a tale in which a king hired a wanton archer to sling cow dung balls into his minister's/advisor's mouth, for king despised him for talking too much.
*5th Place* in the following contest (judged on Oct. 1, 2020)
Oct. 2, 2020
"The Unexplained" Poetry Contest
Contest Sponsor: Carolyn Devonshire
Silent as smoke, darkness descends;
while shadows merge and daylight ends.
For, summoned by a bullfrog's croak;
darkness descends, silent as smoke.
The Moon pools in ebony skies;
and gilded gold; She starts to rise.
One of the night's brightest jewels;
in ebony skies: the Moon pools.
Blue bleeds red from a dying sun,
a telltale sign that Day is done.
Inking crimson clouds overhead;
from a dying sun, blue bleeds red.
Signaling for love, fireflies flash,
as dusk settles like sooty ash.
Under the stars, twinkling above;
fireflies flash, signaling for love.
Mr. Pete Buttigieg
lost his edge
His early bird victory
turned to fledge
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