Eskimo Joe took a liking to Nebraska Flo
His bro said, oh, no, not her, no, no, Joe!
When Joe was with Flo, they each had a glow
Bright as flashing bulbs at a Kansas light show
Love for each other continued to grow
Joe helped Flo plant, weed, garden, rake and hoe
Their romance was fast, it was never slow
Flo showed Joe how to use a crossbow
He refused to kill a buck or a doe
But their love was intense, there was no kind of woe
His friends and her friends, his foe and her foe
These lovebirds got married in Tijuana, Mexico.
Eskimo Ellie loves training her sled dogs
they are her comfort, her pack.
they keep her warm at night, and appreciate her stories
She lets them sleep inside the igloo, but keeps this a secret
the other dog handlers would not understand
they might think she is soft and silly
her dogs are her family,
where else would she make them sleep?
If I was an Eskimo I would live on an ice float
sharing it with a couple of crisp clean white polar bears
My children would play with their children
We would swap stories
Share child-rearing responsibilities
Clean each other’s igloos
Pesky men who think I am cute would leave me alone
My bear friends would see to that
Wanderer,
free spirit,
gets around the endless world,
he relentlessly seeks happiness.
Open your eyes
encounter an aurora borealis
simple to perfection,
like a lost Eskimo
or as a Buddhist monk
who attains Nirvana somewhere in distant Burma.
Or rather as an aborigine influenced by mysticism
or a lost Sufi
among the vapors of the hookah,
the scents of a forgotten time
that leave behind only the perfume of memories
abandoned in the wilderness of life.
Being a Berber in the desert
or Sahara Tuareg,
when the pleasure is enjoyed in a fleeting moment
while absorbed in timeless meditation,
enjoying life
in perpetuity carpe diem.
My heart beats out your name
In steady three-quarter time
This waltz of love sustains me
With the hope that you'll be mine
I dream of you so often
It's almost like you are
But almost can't do justice
It's woefully under par
Yet when I get to see you
My spirit soars to heights
Not humanly attainable
I'm passing stars in flight
That's the effect you have on me
In all the days I've lived
I've never met another
Who can give me what you can give
Kayaking myself down Eskimo way
I found an abandoned igloo and decided to stay
The last polar bear promptly scared me away
I know my scared face turned a weird kind of gray
Luckily I could outrun my good buddy Jay
We had his funeral yesterday
His parents asked, but what could say?
That I was thrilled I had outrun him that day?
How do you bore that fishing hole in the ice?
I study an Intuit who is pretty nice.
He tosses me a salmon, not once, but thrice.
There is a faint smell like Daddy’s Old Spice.
Do ice igloos ever have any rabbits or mice?
His answer are great; they rapidly inform and entice.
Do Eskimos have any kind of ridiculous vice?
He smiles as he serves me salmon on rice.
Boe the Eskimo
There is a little Eskimo named Boe
He loves to play on the ice and the snow
One day as he played on the ice, it cracked
Boe, in shock knew the odds against him were stacked.
Along came a kindly turtle called Jack
He said "I'll show the way, climb on my back"
So Boe jumped on board and off the two zoomed
What adventures they had as their friendship bloomed.
Boe saw sea creatures he'd not seen before
Marine plants aglow on the ocean floor
They danced with dolphins who move gracefully
Twisting and turning to sounds of the sea.
Then they spied large sharks coming at full speed
Both of them were awfully scared indeed
Their two hearts beating alike frenzied drums
Afraid of finishing up in sharks tums.
Suddenly Boe awoke from a dream
Ma and pa rushed in when they'd heard Boe scream
Boe said from now he'd do as he was told
When out playing on ice, he'd not be so bold.
10th April 2021
Nursery Rhyme 4 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Eve Roper
I’m an Eskimo
From the North Pole
Being cooled by my gene
Don’t,throw
Lavas from the Volcanos
What it may be
Not harm them me
Know
I’m an Eskimo
From the North Pole
Being cooled set by my gene
ESTIMATING NINE MONTHS FROM ESKIMO KISSES
TUNDRA tunics
tendered,
holding hot
homeothermic
sentient swaddling,
stirred with
warm waves of
cocoa cresting charm,
bathed in barometric
swoon.
sweetheart neckline
netted nefariously
close -
charm capitulated.
frowns forever forlorn,
as aromatics allure —
cologne colonization,
fever-pitch
of friendship,
not so subtly
sensuous —
harbored hashtag,
blue breath
below freezing —
frenetic, freeing
OF ovulating applause.
12/4/2017
Eskimo Dream
Eskimos know 68 shades of snow
They count every flake
Green blue ones fill children with delight
Parents frozen like the dim light of day
Wait with edges of a knife for prey
They dare not move during the hunt for food
Faces etched like leather on fierce weather
In calmer times they sing
Pound igloos into shape before the pending storm
Mukluks on their children’s feet are old and worn
But keeps them warm on moonless nights
Against all odds for life
They hold together chanting on the wind
Stretching across all time and land
Singing about their past and colder weather
And yes, about the color white
Sentry huskies sway left to right in fear
And think of caribou
Soon the ice will cover everything
Settled in the deep
The people sleep
And dream of whale bones by the glacier sea
I learned this survival skill from an Eskimo.
Do not under any circumstances eat yellow snow.
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.