Long Otter Poems
Long Otter Poems. Below are the most popular long Otter by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Otter poems by poem length and keyword.
Shocked tree says “ Can I drink one more?”
This bar has only you and me
That “Lost Generation” says
In the news, about flowers are so beautiful
Need to cough little
Smoke to feel a dull pain in lung, poem is lung cancer
The hospital with Coma disease has moss
Every culture have sex and art
Rain of poisoner to feel at that away
In the book “ Universe Follow The Fish” saw
Each part of consciousness are ponderous
Woman crawl climb on my face , she recites my poem
Cry of baby disappear in the river
Baby feels the disease don’t fear otter
False tired on the forearm of demon
Sun is scaring the light
Thwelt Di Nwe
Lost Generation-Vergina Woolf
Universe Follow The Fish- Shwe Poe Eain
In honor of St. Patrick's Day and for the Daniel Henry Rodgers' "Green To The Gills" Contest, I chose a poetry form to describe briefly at least seven of the most familiar of Irish creatures. I find the belief they must have once had in these myths to be fascinating. The poem form Debide is strange and a bit difficult, but I thought it worked well for what I wanted to show because each one is a little poem for the creature being described. See in notes above how to do the form.
The Banshee
delivers a death decree.
Her scream is horrid to hear
near.
A rabbit
could become Pooka’s habit.
With mischief he makes a swift
shift!
If maybe
a changeling were your baby,
that stand-in is not a mild
child!
In water,
the Selkie’s not an otter.
On land, is he still a real
seal?
The creature
*Dubh-Aos’ horrid feature:
Is he carrying a head
dead?
A fairy
is not Tinker-bell airy.
Leprechaun’s type is a tad
bad.
Of terror
Fear Darrig is a bearer.
Cause you nightmares? This Red Man
can!
*Doubh-Aos sounds like Doo-Ace and
with apostrophe is three syllables
Luminescent water dweller swirling svelte
Slick slid tranquil cuddles chocolate flanks
Languish in lake's fresh flow cleanses pelt
Inveigled green murk give mammal thanks
Flip of fish bodied bristle face fierce scent
Dispersing air bubble clusters break ranks
Astonished by spine kink accomplishment
Ransack gets snack refuel on sandy banks
Sharp fang archer snares mollusc, eloquent
Velvet lips emit wet grass verdant vibe knell
Frolicking gloss body, domain of free agent
Guarantees relief, feasted minuscule morsel
Rotary manuevres engrave prey unhindered
Dagger mouth rolls marble glassy carouse
Rouge show-off swims to coldest dominion
Flagrant tail track flicks a frigid drop douse
11th February
Behemoth of depths
Ladies and gentlemen, laddies, lassies one and all
Water, water everywhere, be careful lest you fall.
Please take into account, we've found wet boards do shrink
and remind your children, this water's not to drink.
WHY, ye visitors to Snow Cave lake,
WHY for my job, you, your wat’ry fears forsake?
Tell me, fellow-creatures of geologic science
WHY in my presence, WHY try my patience?
Let's imagine we travel the shores of Gumee Gitchie
and pretend we're Wiahatha and Minnehehe
But alas! upon our banks, there is no naked maid.
Stay on the path, light-footed, if our lights should fade
Mine's to be the master spirit, your's to be the slave, don't sleep
Mine's to shape yourself obedient to the fuzzy words I speak
Flame and flood and stars and mountains from these primal waters seep.
Walking this path day in, day out, makes this young man weak.
All day I hear the noise of waters - above, below.
All day, all night, I hear them flowing to and fro.
Are there any otter questions, are there any?
My hearing's shot, but answers I have plenty.
How old is Snow Storm Cave you may be wondering?
As old, I would guess, as lightning, thundering.
Where are the Snow Storms? If you see one let us know,
after guiding for two summers now, I think it's melted snow.
And now we cross the Jordan or is it the Red Sea?
On into Snow Storm Gift Shop where your money can flow free.
Please come back to visit us, whenever you've less to do
Watch your step, guard your purse, remember Waterloo.
A Guide's Speech, easily adaptable to larger groups, longer tours by adding more poetry selections on the subject of water in general although other subjects would likely work as well for the essentially deaf.
When it comes to creating the kind of world we’d like our world to be
Is it possible one answer could be
swimming…
with the otters of the sea..
Sea otters are keystone species…meaning as through the ocean they glide
they help to maintain balance in the kelp forests where they reside.
As they live their life in harmony with the ocean deep
one thing I find enchanting is the way sea otters sleep.
Since the ocean is their home…you could say it is their Mother
they link paws when they sleep
so they won’t drift away from one another.
They sleep in groups together…a large otter raft they form…
where you can even see them cuddling to keep each other safe and warm
Which makes me wonder…could this be one solution
for stopping hate and poverty and war…
If every human maintained balance by linking together,
cuddling and holding hands a little more.
Another lesson from our Earth…
who we also call our Mother…
One way to ensure we as humans
don’t drift away from one another…
Frisky frog forgot to bathe
So off he went, to the creek
Alone in the water, he decided
He’d be so clean, he’d squeak
Silly squirrel, scattered his nuts
Along the bank where Frog swam
Sinking into the clearest water
Frog told the squirrel he should scram
Friendly fish whirled in the waves
Swaying with the chug of the water
Reminding Frog he was surely clean
So he could visit the king’s daughter
Bristly bear came across the ridge
Rattling the leaves with his great paws
The others saw him and left the creek
Recalling the fierceness of his wide jaws
Frisky frog went to visit the king
While silly squirrel packed his lunch
And, friendly fish worked up the nerve
To glide by bristly bear – and on a hunch…
They all thanked God for this water
Where they finally met Mr. Otter!
Be Creative Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Eve Roper
November 6, 2022
The channel islands off the coast
of California were my home
on weekends sailing with my dad
on glassy seas, on froth and foam.
On Fridays after work he’d head
to Catalina on the wind.
Sometimes, the trips were fast and rough;
sometimes, you thought they’d never end.
I’d go below when it got dark;
he’d often sail late in the night,
drop anchor in a quiet cove,
and hear the gulls at dawn’s first light.
My father would go snorkeling
and abalone were the game:
delectable when cooked just right,
breaded, sauted on a flame.
The prize, not easy, on the rocks
some twenty feet below or more.
A suit and weights to take him down
to pry them off the ocean floor.
I stayed up top and manned the oars
and kept the dinghy close at hand,
collect the catch and be right there
when things did not go quite as planned.
Though this was fifty years ago,
I picture it as clear as day.
My father found a hunting spot.
The waters, calm; the skies were gray.
He’d found an abalone bed
with numbers plenty to be found,
and so he’d bring them to the boat,
inhale, and take the next trip down.
But then, he came up rather quick
and backed up slowly with his fins.
His snorkel made the strangest moans,
and then he dived back down again.
Again, he came up fast and tossed
the catch into the boat and said
a large black manta ray down there
was quite protective of the beds.
’Twas near ten feet across in size,
and though they shouldn’t cause one harm,
when they are coming after you,
it sets off all the fire alarms.
On one last trip, he headed down,
and next I know, he’s like an otter.
The ray had come straight up at him;
he might as well have walked on water!
He managed to get in the boat
in one smooth motion, in a blink.
Normally, it was a struggle,
requiring help and lots of strength.
He laughed and said we’re done today;
whatever’s here, we’ll call it good.
No arguments from me, for sure;
I’d never been, and never would!
Who among you is named Clark?
"I am!" said the meadow lark
Who here bares the name of Pearl?
"I do!" said the eastern squirrel
Who's a mean old Visigoth?
"That's me!" said the lazy sloth
Who's the biggest silly nerd?
"Me!" said the bee-eater bird
Whose favorite candy is a Necco?
"Mine!" exclaimed the tokay gecko
Who forgot to wear a tie?
"I did!" said the dragonfly
Who wants to ride the teeter-totter?
"Me of course!" replied the otter
Who's been dating pretty Juana?
"I have! The marine iguana!"
Who has the most precious smile?
"I!" said the Nile Crocodile.
Who eats cookies by the batch?
"Me! The red-breasted nuthatch!"
Who wants this to end right now?
"Me I guess, an annoyed old cow."
As I walk by the bubbling brook
fixated on intricate crannies and nooks
quaint voices encircle, relaying rhyme
in a plethora of rhythms, perfectly timed
Adonis blue butterflies flaunt their wings
messages ensue as four swallows swing
in between worlds, swept into a dream
as one finds a path up the sunlit stream
Kingfishers perched on the bared roots of
a tree skewer some fish for afternoon tea
an otter prepares a fresh banquet of cray
wind rustles the birch to faint calls of a jay
Wrens nesting in the hedgerows nibble on seed
Willow sheds her woe down by the water reeds
Damselflies rest upon a cast of white flowers
as rolling clouds breakout in freshest shower
Are otters so odd?
In Old English
Their name means 'water'
And it really ought to
As they live near the river or sea
Are otters so odd?
They sing like canaries
With clear voices
So happy and merry
Their high-pitched sopranos
A treat for you and for me
Are otters so odd?
They're really so cute
When they stand up
They look so much like
Little 'fish pups' --
(You almost expect them to bark) --
But they've whiskers like cats
Except for one thing:
Some of those whiskers
Jut out from their eyes
Which is quite a surprise
Are otters so odd?
Some might "Yes" nod
But I see not the need
For either a rod
Or an 'otter-swatter'