Long Critters Poems
Long Critters Poems. Below are the most popular long Critters by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Critters poems by poem length and keyword.
The sun sparkles in the forest
all is calm
all is quiet
Birds chirp in the near distance
and branches fall, hitting the ground like footsteps-
swallowed by nature,
in the deepest, lush forest-
is that the trees talking?
They creak,
as I lay in a field of grass,
a hummingbird deteriorates reality-
hovering over top of me-
what could it possibly want
the sun's beams dry the morning dew
and the hummingbird rests on my shoulder
I'll never know if it was a message
or a sign
Perhaps it was coincidence
He disappears in the trees and out come the crickets-
too soon-
they've forgotten their instincts
still laying among the critters we can barely see,
I smile at the sun, a tear falls-
pure bliss
then the hummingbird flew right back down by me-
instead I got up and followed it to the water
" Can you feel the soul of an abandoned house;
can you hear the whispering?"
quote...by Constance La France
As I approach the abandoned house of my youth
rain is falling
I came to remember its sights and sounds
without the illusion of youth
before it disappears in the void of years
only the footstones seem intact
leading to the crumbling porch of decaying wooden planks
where my grandmother would sit in her rocking chair
as I played on the steps of Pinewood
the oak tree I climbed is covered in Spanish moss
its limbs dying
the swing set I used is laying in grasses of brambles and weeds
having rusted away
the front door languishes on a single hinge
cocked to the side
allowing dust and dirt to be blown inside
I slowly step inside, my eyes scanning the shadowed light
feces of critters lay scattered on the floor
my mother would constantly sweep clean
the scent of rotten wood and mold
have replaced the smell of my dad's pipe
my hands touch the walls
as I walk from room to room
each one filled with voices and memories
rain is pouring through the roof
onto the floor of my yesterdays without mercy
there is nothing here in this empty barren space
hollowed out from time
leaving the ghosts of yesterday
hidden in the dim-lit shadows of decay
their remembered whispers follow me
as I leave, I look back
with a sadness that will linger in my mind
5/26/23
contest Writing Challenge "C" quotes
sponsor Constance La France
There’s a small village not so far away
anyone who hears it dreams to be there,
Its beauty lures like white fairies at bay-
their billowy gowns prettily unfurl;
As its homes sprout as mushrooms of winter,
scooped by mountains like petals of flower.
When we ride to ascend its spiral road,
curtains of snowflakes are crystals in view
Winter wonderland is right there, behold!
At the swinging bridge over river-snow,
when you frolic around, feels no adieu
Lulls notes of perfection, not made askew.
Night comes around, nocturnal critters sound
to keep its eternal fascination
While animals scamper on thick snow ground
lit by tiny lamps on trees, let’s sojourn
to embrace the glorious celebration-
Winter Wonderland’s Yuletide Season.
Takayama is Winter Wonderland,
Not so far away, it’s found in Japan.
Dec. 30, 2018 10.50am
A try of Urban sonnet in 10syllables
ABABBB- CDCDDD- EFEFFF-GG
A poem in remembrance on one of the cities I visited last March 4-7, 2018 in Japan.
I used to hike the entire trail without seeing another soul.
Now people are swarming here in great droves.
I hardly see wildlife, only e-bikes and their drone.
Critters have retreated to the green center.
Far away from unleashed people and dogs.
The pervs and the dealers have moved in.
I watched a young couple being arrested.
Last month a crazy woman attacked a hiker with a knife.
Signs have sprung up reminding people to hide valuables and lock up.
It's no longer a preserve of peace.
You have to monitor what's coming up behind you.
I don't hear bird songs as much anymore.
I listen for the sound of crushed limestone underfoot.
She had a little she-shed in the back of the house.
It was a sanctuary, a place she could keep her critters and such.
Her husband stayed inside where he had no one to grouse.
He liked to have his place to himself also, and I mean very much.
They never divorced but were more compatible this way.
He could watch his nineteen tv sets all turned way up loud.
She loved heading to her studio at the end of her work day.
Their marriage lasted seventy-three years, making them proud.
The secret to their success was that she-shed and his man-cave.
They loved having their own space, so they can do their own thing.
They were both happy, neither one of them a pet or a slave.
She was queen of her she-shed, and he was the man-cave king.
Poet of Perkiomen Valley
discovered aforementioned titled poem
about thirty months ago he wrote
impossible mission critters to smote
chronic issue yours truly does note
years later meaning today
April 19th, 2022
necessitated we allow, enable
and provide welcome to exterminator
actually management did hote
(obsolete) To command; to enjoin
hazard upon body, mind and spirit,
thus ridding apartment b44
visited by said swarming insects,
his expertise sought to mitigate
courtesy applying insecticide.
Insects created dark shadows
analogous brought outer limits
of twilight zone
resembling edge of night
in truth our one bedroom apartment
at that earlier date
affected, encroached, and outsmarted
by massive infestation of
Drosophila melanogaster light
weight winged worst
pests to eradicate
(scientific name regarding
winged flitting nuisance ignite
mentioned in title) besieged,
inundated, and thickly swarm.
dost primp and pretty
fie themselves (to
attract a witty
mate) during their
40 to 50 days city,
or suburban life
cycle long enough
to qualify for this
quickly written ditty
seemingly overnight
a bajillion biz zee
buzzing adults (each
about 1/8 inch long see
their world wide web,
thru at least one
unusual red eye,
which compound eye
of the fruit fly
contains 760 unit
eyes or ommatidia, well nigh
hapt tubby one of the most
advanced among insects,
where Google search
for home remedies aye
didst find to exterminate
these teeny weeny pests,
plus informational pursuit my
instantaneous curiosity yielded
above mentioned
esoteric tidbits,
sans accidentally disc
covered helpful good riddance
material of household ingredients
restraining me to breathe sigh
of dollop, and hope to try
one or more solutions,
which informed
this amateur entomologist -
listed forthright as:
1. Create a trap by mixing
apple cider vinegar
with a few drops of dish soap.
2. Another homemade trap is to
pour leftover red wine into a jar.
3. Mash up banana slices in a jar, and
cover top with a plastic wrap.
4. Pour bleach solution
into bathroom sink.
5. Detonate atomic explosives
as a last resort.
Eve blew the hair from out of her eyes
“He thinks nothing matters except size!”
“All he does is loll in the shade
It would be so nice to move to the glade!”
Eve picked a small critter from her thigh
and said “God, why? Why give me this guy?
He’s lazy, and crazy and talks to the baboon!
And when night rolls around he thinks I will swoon!”
“Adam, the man, the boss, yeah right,
You could have handled that snake but it gave you a fright?”
Don’t blame me, you’re the man, the one with the b*lls
So, why blame tiny me for the trials of us all?”
I was gifted to you. I’m your precious jewel
“Adam dear Adam….please invent me some tools!
I tired of seeing your scraggily hair
and picking the critters out of our lair.
Build me a house, find me a stone
And if you don’t straighten up you’ll go home alone!
*dedicated to Adam’s Lament by Bob Hinshaw
Here's a whimsical tale I've just concocted
From my wandering unbalanced brain
What's that you say? I seem totally normal?
Nothing odd till silliness erupts again
Not sure there's help for this kind of mind
No pills can help, doc said try vodka
Strange prescription but he was totally at a loss
He's fully qualified but I don't think I oughtta
He then said try transcen-dental medication
That's for tooth decay, I wear falsies
Scratch that, perhaps I'll try writing poetry
Hang on! That's what I'm doing now, silly me
Maybe another cute whimsical tale will help
About creepy little critters who snort
Not their fault, born with only one nostril
Located inside your colorful shorts
Now how about that, that's kinda whimsical
Don't hear that in small talk at the office
More likely to hear who's messing with who
Or who's wearing those stinky socks
Seems like I'm at a loss to come up with an answer
To this strange predicament that afflicts me
Everyone's stumped, people shy away think I'm nutso
Best to just let them babble on, most agree
Hey Babylon, there's a whimsical subject of sorts
Will do some research and get back to you
Far as me doth know it's a resort area in the Bahamas
Time for my pills, been nice talking at youse
Here in my suburban acre of Ohio;
I feel the generations,
the hungarians, the irish and germans,
the dutch, the blacks, the shawnee.
We are not a melting pot,
we are birds and critters brought here
by wild, wild winds.
I am a grackle
with my own grackle language,
I expect you who live in the same tree with me
have your own way
of making a home in this land.
Heartland is the root we share,
The root is lazy days in PJ’s.
Hectic mini-van school runs,
sweats for Walmart and yelling at stuff.
One dress tie for special occasions.
Most of us are not poor or rich,
Most of us about nothing much.
We don’t love our guns,
we simply keep them
in case those who don’t understand
want to mess with what we’ve earned.
My neighbor is a mourning dove,
Her son is a possum that loves to play
video games from dawn to dusk.
My pal is a rooster, a gnarly-handed poet,
don’t ask him to write anything
he might think those fighting words.
I like being a grackle, but I married an anhinga
from Florida.
She is adjusting.
This is quite a bit overdue my friends
It's an ode to brussel sprouts
Those delicious spherical bundles of joy
Not too popular hereabouts
Poor wee fellows just want to be loved
Along with all the other veggies
They've long had a real image problem
About as popular as a wedgie
Thinking of starting a worldwide petition
Anybody wishing to join
Send a hundred dollars to me, Jester Jack
You'll receive a commemorate coin
Along with the coin you'll receive a bushel
Of these oh so luscious little critters
As a bonus for ordering before December
An autographed picture of John Ritter
Hey, it rhymes doesn't it !!!