There once was a kangaroo
Who came from Woolloomooloo
She’d become a grouch
If you touched her pouch
It’s just something one shouldn’t do.
Hopping along, he came
right up to my door.
Knock, knock, knock, knock—
rude knocks, I could tell for sure.
“Hello? Can I help you?”
“Yes, you can. Get the hell out of my house.
This is my house.”
“But you are a kangaroo—how, oh how
can this be your house?”
“We used to live in the north of Canada,” he replied.
“This is our native land.
Our Snowman God promised us this land
three thousand years ago.”
“Are you kidding me?” I said.
“Apparently not…”
He punched me in the face,
stomped all over my children,
beheaded my wife and started
wearing her clothes.
Stunned, I screamed, “Stop!
Get the hell out!”
He replied I was a terrorist ba*tard
and anti-snowmitic.
He shot me.
My last vision
was IDF kangaroos
slaughtering polar bears.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A man in a vast coat-pocket universe
Captain Kangaroo was what they called him first.
His beard could shelter squirrels or a misplaced key;
the children leaned in close—but how did Grandpa get free?
Mr. Green Jeans always knew
Kangaroo's pockets held sticky glue,
a rogue banana peel, two lost keys,
and Bunny Rabbit's unpaid fees.
His mute friend Moose, that nodding sage,
new chaos filled each television stage:
Grandfather Clock chiming upside-down,
Tom Terrific losing his paper crown.
But when the Captain tipped his hat,
the mess dissolved—just like that.
No rhyme nor reason, a tidy end?
just magic tricks, and a gentle friend.
We all remember Captain Kangaroo
who lived in his treasure house as opposed to a shoe
he was a most enthusiastic storyteller
when kids went to sleep he’d head for the cellar
AP: Honorable Mention 2025
If you want to be happy
get a pet
a puppy a guppy
or better yet
a cockatoo a kangaroo
but if you do
just keep in mind
someone must pick up
what they leave behind
such happiness is not free
it comes with a touch
of responsibility
so here's the news
be wary of which one
you decide to choose
leaf and fruit eater
big butted tree kangaroo
difficult to find
I’ve been having visions and I don’t know what they mean
Up and down the outback, I’ve been dreaming kangaroo dreams.
My legs were strong, to hop from troubled paths.
And I belonged out in the fields of grass.
My eyes were bright to see across the land
And I was quite content although I did not understand.
My nose was keen, the air was fresh and clear.
The breezes soft, they whispered in my ear,
And I was free to roam across the land
And I was quite content although I did not understand.
The sun was bright and warm, my shadow fell behind me
And I just felt so strong that my troubles couldn’t find me.
So I stood tall, I held my head up high.
I’d do it all, reaching for the sky.
And I was proud to be just what I am
And I was quite content although I did not understand.
Into the jungle the ebony puma leaps with joy
lion and tiger eyes inequitable to this boy
illustrious cobra uncoils from a near caca tree
kangaroo court in session in a high degree
enthusiastic mushrooms open on demand
young ferns close up shop in this verdant land
onward and upward chimp says to her cub
understanding jungle survival is a very small club
Kenya kangaroo flying colorful kaleidoscope kite
gnawing nimble gnashy night crawlers on Nairobi’s night
enticing enthusiastic Englewood eagles, filling them with excite
making melodious music, merrymaking magic as they might
I wanna be a wallaby
And not just a wanna-be,
Not a kangaroo or
Silly platypus
But, if I can’t be a wallaby
I think that I would wanna be
A plump and dumpy
Hippopotamus!
Meet my Kangaroo herd in Australian highlands,
The king of the herd is Don, very big and strong,
There are many females with little joeys in the pouch,
With little protection from the king on the mound.
Would I like to ride a male Kangaroo,
The rhythm of their hops, leaps, and bounds,
Will throw me sky high without restraints,
The thrill of ride will resonate with high notes of violin plays.
When cockatoo and ravens start shrieking,
The dingo pack may be ready for hunting nearby,
The eagle may be flying overhead for easy prey,
The chase of kangaroos starts, they run for their lives, high notes of violin play.
When all the danger seems gone away,
The birds sing and the violin plays soothing notes,
Female and joeys play with each other,
Their hugs and kisses are full of passion and love.
In the highland kangaroo habitat,
Grass may be plenty in spring, but scarce in summer, fall and winter,
They dig deep, eat snow, fight swarm of insects, dogs, and dingoes to survive,
Life is tough here compared to the kin in the neat and clean zoo.
Joey – young kangaroo offspring
Who are you?
Kangaroo
What do you do?
Kangaroo
You don't moo
Kangaroo
You're not a cow
Kangaroo
Or a sow
Kangaroo
Or a horse
Kangaroo
Of course
Kangaroo
You're not a cat
Kangaroo
Fancy that
Kangaroo
You're not a dog
Kangaroo
Or a frog
Kangaroo
Or a goat
Kangaroo
Or a stoat
Kangaroo
You're not a giraffe
Kangaroo
What a laugh
Kangaroo
You're not a bear
Kangaroo
Nearly there
Kangaroo
Who are you
Kangaroo that's you
Mama Kangaroo has raised a snowflake boy.
Get out of the pouch she says; and he says “oy?”
You are old enough now to go off on your own.
He does not leave his nest, tucking in with his phone.
Cut off his minutes, the other mamas sternly say.
But he is her only living baby, and she likes things his way.
Maybe just one more year, she says with hope, a bit daff.
Behind her back, they discuss her reluctance and laugh.
She ends up holding Junior until he is way too big.
He falls out of the pouch daily, and he’s big as a pig.
The other mothers have had six more babies now.
But she is still lugging junior around and he is a sloth cow.
I have defined Meditation
As Prayer of Hesitation:
Time-Claiming Conversation
With Solver of Protestation,
Not Near Human for being Divine,
Though you might speak like you drank Vine;
Samuel-Seeking Faint Syllables,
Hannah’s Ear-Disturbing Babbles:
Eyes of one staring at nothing,
Lips tightly asking for something:
More charged than Prayer in Wattage
And by far fiercer in Voltage...
A Peter under lock and key
From Bars to be hanged on a tree,
Upon release Kangaroo Court,
Where they would him judge as long sought
And next face Herod’s Cold Murder,
When they have Guards given Order…
It’ll have to be Meditation!
In-The-Spirit Recitation!
Maximum-Level Quiet Time!
To Peter make Slippery Slime!
Chased by a two hundred pound kangaroo
I hid inside an Alaskan igloo
I concocted a wild witch’s brew
And put together a tasty stew
Someone yelled, “Here is a blue kangaroo!”
I knew this was not an ample clue.
Had someone fashion me a new hairdo.
Styled by a beauty school shrew.
Someone stuck their head in and yelled “Boo!”
An odd orange creature from the nearest zoo.
He was not painted the right hue.
Not like the scary red kangaroo.
Sub Categories
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.