Long Dinosaurs Poems

Long Dinosaurs Poems. Below are the most popular long Dinosaurs by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Dinosaurs poems by poem length and keyword.


They Said To Me

They said I woke up at 9:32 am. 
I know better than them. 
I last slept…
Back when there were dinosaurs. 
They spoke to me in groans, and screeches. 

They said breakfast will be served. 
They like to do that everyday.
There was food in front of me. 
But I just sat there, staring. 
The toast was lively. 
I didn’t know toast could have energy. 
I wish I did too. 

They said the doors would open up. 
Outside, there is a fence. 
So I stayed inside. 
Away from fences and horrible sunshine.
A sun which sneaks through the gaps. 
Is uninviting to me. 

They said I should eat lunch. 
They said I should eat dinner. 
They said there would be bedtime. 
They said the sun would set. 

The lights went out. 
I’m still cold. 
They said I need to sleep. 
Breakfast is tomorrow morning. 
They never lie.
I will never die. 
The lights go out at 9:00 pm. 
And it wears on me.


Premium Member Dino Story - Nursery Rhyme

Three dinosaurs – big, and small, and medium
        Went to the park to play, with their mom.
        Mommy told them to follow the rules,
        No fuss, whatever fun game their plan is!
                   
                                                As usual, the medium one wasn’t happy,
                                                He had to wait for his turn – he was grumpy.
                                                The little one goes up and down the slide,
                                                The gentle eldest never fails to guide.

       Swing and slide, water and mud,
       Oh My! Little dinosaurs had all kinds of fun!
       Let’s go home now – mommy says,
       Tummy growling, yummy lunch waits.

             
                                      April 20, 2021
                                       FIRST PLACE
                       Nursery Rhyme 5 Poetry Contest
                                  Sponsor: Eve Roper
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Theory In Crisis: Ii

If function is king, then there aren’t any Types,
but the living show us that’s simply not true.
The class tree is ordered according to forms
and not by the functions a critter can do.

So here’s a conundrum you might find odd:
a superclass known by the name Tetrapod.
Vertebrates these, the four-legged animals:
reptiles, amphibians, and also mammals.

Dinosaurs found here and therefore the birds;
The scope of this superclass: rather absurd.
A feature that all of these share in common:
Four pentadactyl limbs, from the top to the bottom.

Think humerus, radius/ulna, phalanges,
or femur, tibia/fibula, toesies.
All of these critters, extinct and alive
share a limb bone pattern of one, two, and five.

I know that you’re thinking I’m proving the point:
With all that evolving, we must Darwin anoint!
The fittest survive, “Change or Die!” what they say
So why does that one-two-five get in the way?

Are you telling me that to swim, run, or fly
that the one-two-five pattern is the best of all tries?
In bats, five fingers prominent, birds show just two,
But during development, all five are in view.

If you look at a horse or a pig, it’s a ruse!
But in the embryo, those bones will fuse.
No matter the adapting it takes to survive,
They always start out with the one, two, and five. 

Three hundred sixty-five million years past:
that’s when the pentadactyl pattern was cast.
What in the world caused this weird isolation?
Such fixation defies Darwin’s explanation.

The limb is just one of the numerous features
that uniquely identify classes of creatures.
An a-functional body plan resisting change…
Even Gould veered from Darwin, finding this rather strange.
© Jeff Kyser  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Poor Little Tyro

Little Tyro seemed normal at birth
  Green color, long enough, the proper girth
But when he didn't grow for nigh on a year
  Mom and Dad Tyrannosaurus were filled with fear

One day they took poor Tyro to the dino-vet
  Who confirmed his parents' worst fears yet
Little Tyro had a very, very rare mutation
  That caused its victims diminished maturation

Little Tyro would barely get to grow at all
  In fact he'd barely be 50 centimeters tall
He'd never be able to go outside and play
  For he'd be stepped on by others right away

While his prognosis certainly wasn't very good
  Tyro made his way in life, as best he could 
Then one day, a miracle came along
  That freed him from a destiny, gone so wrong

A giant meteor whooshed down and struck the Earth
  To climate changes and an Ice Age it gave birth
All the big, cold-blooded dinosaurs up and died
  But not Tyro, who tiny body stayed warm inside

For there was something the dino-vet just hadn't known
  Tyro's mutation meant he was a mammal full-blown
Warm-blooded, friendly, cute and full of fun --
  He became Neanderthal Man's favorite pet, bar none!


           June 19, 2019
 Entry in 'Dinosaurs For Children' contest
        Sponsor: Line Gauthier
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member A Maidens Tale

Many, many moons ago
when the world was young
people were nomads
carefully moving from place to place
this was the age of dinosaurs
a need for caution
mighty eruptions occurred daily
causing large cracks
that swallowed up camps and people

A time when your only thought was
could you make it through another day?
vegetation that was huge
giant Venus fly traps
that could eat you whole
lush bushes that could hide
a dinosaur behind the leaves 

Now after one of the quakes
a comely maiden called Saigon
came to be the only one left alive
seventeen years old and scared
she gathered up some belongings
and set off to the west
she knew there were others that way

For days she walked avoiding danger
at last she could see signs of life
met by men with spears
she told them what had happened
they took her to the head tribesman
he welcomed her knowing of her fame
Saigon was a medicine woman
young though she was, her repute was know

My youngest grandson is very ill
please see if you can help him
Saigon examined the boy
I need moon flowers she said
they lay 60 miles away
they only grew in the blue mountains

The head tribesman sent two fleet warriors
while Saigon mixed the other ingredients
wort, some mushrooms and several herbs
brewed slowly for a day or so
at last the warriors returned
Saigon added the moon flowers

She took the mixture to the lad
cupped his head as he drank
he will sleep now she said
it all happened as she said
at last the fever was broken
a handsome man approached her
thanking her for saving his nephew

Quite taken by Matias she was shy
and hung her head as they spoke
Matias was also very taken by her
a love began to flourish and grow
until they approached the elders
for permission to wed
everyone had taken to Saigon
and wanted to keep her in the tribe
so it was readily given

At the next new moon
they exchanged their vows
and jumped over the broom
to signify they were wed
a feast lasting days followed
as for Saigon she was so glad
to be with the tribe, now she was safe
and had fallen in love as well
happy and content she prospered
living against all odds into her seventies
she passed away content in her bed.
Form: Epic


Trumpet Call 2 Hide B4 Armageddon

if zee al chemist trump doth win go hide in the bunker 
to save your ass
brace yourself as this don holed 
confabulates that gold iz brass
and conjures prestidigitation 
like spinning false hoods in2 truth - crass
-     -     -     -     -     -     -     -     -     -     -     -     -     
a synonym force head fabricator - 
will threaten democracy, thus be afraid
as this pompous voice quotes 
from hiz playbook, which = a charade
the hard core truths, he 
(who i liken to the plague) doth evade
-     -     -     -     -     -     -     -     -     -     -     -     -     
and dreams up fault of Barack Obama 
for extinction of dinosaurs,
crucifixion of Jesus Christ
down fall of the Roman Empire, 
or far tethered Fred Flintsone ca fetching an escapade
-     -     -     -     -     -     -     -     -     -     -     -     -  
yea...this rip pub lick'n presidential contender 
evinces a psyche that did brexit n got frayed
building and monopolizing castles in the sky - 
nonexistent as a grade
-     -     -     -     -     -     -     -     -     -     -     -     -     
school fib - or donning role 
as play ground bully teaming with ivan 
the terrible to dominate the greensward 
in the above fiction, but...man
that loose canon dressing his 
-     -     -     -     -     -     -     -     -     -     -     -     -  
"make america great again" gag line - whar i ran
and mid eastern countries will rise 
as one cheering him as star of global hit parade
despite any raging oppositional pandaemonium 
birth er ring a conflagration
-     -     -     -     -     -     -     -     -     -     -     -     -  
kenya believe the world acquiesces 
to thine projected masquerade
blocking im grate shunning crowds - 
which number of people rival in size  
taller (if stack one atop thee other) 
-     -     -     -     -     -     -     -     -     -     -     -     -  
than the trump tower casino or high rise
with his signature - hm...mebbe funds provided 
by drug lords, the swedish house mafia 
or terrorist ties???
-     -     -     -     -     -     -     -     -     -     -     -     -     
whom security details silence by tossing a hand grenade
sham on you Potemkin village people for quaffing draughts 
from elixir purportedly to transform visage with trademark 
swept back, wavy and coiffed hirsute.
Form:

Premium Member Building Tension

That night, in a strange place
I was like a fly
Circling a street light
Reeling…Reeling!
I felt so alone
Fear wrenched my throat
Couldn’t predict
When I would be charred to death

I had heard,
In the cover of dark
Everyone was a robber
Or a masked assassin!

Without a roof over my head
I was like a mole
Smoked out of its hole
And exposed to blaring light

Had it been my own town
Where I knew
Every nook and cranny
Like the lines of my palm
I wouldn’t have minded
Being so helplessly stranded
Or left in the night

At a distance….

I saw the faint silhouette of hills
Like dreadful dinosaurs crouching
Also the outlines of buildings
Reminding one of the medieval haunted castles 

Stray dogs, mangy
Were raiding the trash bins.
I don’t know why then
I enjoyed their company
I could hear the falling hooves
Of cattle, led to the slaughterhouse,
And the lash of whips falling on them,
Echoing the shrieking of a banshee!

Saw an auto lying upside down
Fallen unwary in a pothole
A line of tanker lorries
Seen halted by the roadside,
Like the bogies of a goods train
And their drivers went home,
To sleep with their mates

Behind the cover, I saw
Two figures leaning;
A man and a woman
Night owls at a mating serenade!
I closed my eyes,
Covering them with my palm

In that unearthly hour
An eerie fear gripped me.
Tension was building inside,
Like a balloon being bloated with air
And how my mind longed
To slither out of that hole
To curl up in the warmth of my home
Far… far away!

Premium Member Okay Butt Hole

his is a fireless dragon the seven-year-old told me.
He was coloring it all over the page in reds and purples.
Long strokes, accidentally staying in the lines rarely.
An artist in a frenzy.

Hey, he says “Was Jesus born on the ground?”
I don’t think so, I tell him. I think he was born in a manger
Is that in heaven?
No. In a stable.
He gives me a condescending look.
Then he throws his head back and laughs.

He is with me because I am the school counselor
And he does not want to be in his classroom.
He wants to be with me.
He is with me a lot.
He tells me that the sandpile is a boy.
I ask what he has named it.
Bob.

I say, “I am going to call you Bob.”
He loves that. His grin is filling out to his ears as he colors.
“Bob, Bob, Bob, Bob, Bob,” I sing.
He grins so widely his teeth show.
This almost never happens in class.

Why don’t you nickname me? I suggest.
“Okay,” he agrees. “Butt hole.”
This is usually a four-year-old thing.
I tell him we cannot say ‘but in school”.
He is sharp. “But why not?”
I say, “Give me another nickname”.
“Okay, Fart head.”
I tell him we can’t say fart either.
He says “Dinosaurs were born before you even came to work here.
The gas for your car is dinosaur’s poop.”
I think to myself, he may be seven, but he loves bathroom words as much as four.
words 259
Form: Narrative

Premium Member Climate Change Is No Joke

Our problems all began with the industrial revolution
And its legacy has left us with toxic pollution.

Climate change is real and been declared a code red
And if we chose to ignore it, we'll all end up dead.

It's not a new problem, they've been saying it for years
Driven by greed and profit now there will be tears.

Ice caps are melting, I'm sure you already know
And soon the polar bears will have nowhere to go.

Sea and river levels are a worry as they continue to rise
Houses and cars swept away before our very eyes.

Wildfires are quite common now the air is so dry
Many people lose their homes, sadly many of them die.

Not forgetting wildlife, they too perish in the flames
Insurance firms kept busy with thousands of claims.

Our vast oceans too have become a dumping ground
With oil slicks and plastics, just some of the things found.

We burn fossil fuels that release carbon to keep us warm
Now we must find an alternative that wont cause us harm.

Pesticides sprayed on crops with no thought for the bees
Forests cut down ruthlessly, soon there will be no trees.

Action is needed now, they know what's needed to be done
Because when it gets worse there will be nowhere to run.

In the distant future an apocalyptic waste land will be
And all because of mankinds greed and his own stupidity.

Every country must play its part, not just one or two
And every individual on earth that's me and you.

Dinosaurs roamed earth and disappeared mysteriously
And here we all are creating our own catastrophe.

And the many idiots out there who think it's a big joke
They won't find it so funny when they're choking on smoke.



Written 13th August 2021
Form: Couplet

My Teacher Shenandoah

Speak to me, Shenandoah!

You're old, and I am young.

In valley down below

And all your hills among,


Dinosaurs have once roamed,

With open, hungry eyes;

Mammoths made you their home

Amid the sheets of ice -


Taller than Mount St. Helen

You once stood on the earth;

Reaching and touching heaven -

Through all the death and birth


You towered, proud and mighty,

Seeing and knowing all,

Parted and yet united -

Each mountain and the whole -


Seeing trees grow and wither,

Animals live and die,

Thunder, tornado, blizzard -

Elements you defy,


But stand, evincing shadow

In the sun's morning rays

Over the forests, meadows,

And in the time and space.


You stood here when the red man

Hunted and roamed the lands,

When the wise, painted shaman

At bonfire, in a trance,


Healed ailments and diseases,

Arrows and spears dislodged

And contacted deceased ones

And spirits in sweat lodge,


And when the white man landed

And drove the red man hence,

You stood in pain and sadness

But let the life advance.


The ages have eroded you -

The water and the wind;

The workers have exploded you

Railways and roads to build -


You are worn out, tired,

Shadow of what you were -

In forests you're attired

Now, as you were before


In ice caps. Appalachia!

You've seen and known it all -

The vagaries of nature,

Tsunamis in man's soul -


Both ignorance and wisdom,

Both viciousness and bliss,

The muteness of deceased ones,

The symphony that lives 


In people and in nature

In oceans and the skies:

In beauty and in danger

Life grows and multiplies -


For millions of years

You stood and saw and heard

And caught life unawares

Like, in a trap, a bird


And wrung from its beaked mouth

The universal song:

You are the life's storehouse!

The planet's skeleton!


All lived, died, decomposed

And left its dust in you -

There resting in repose

Under the sky of blue -


And as you see and know

The world, both old and new,

My teacher - Shenandoah -

Give me your wisdom too!

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