Long Wombats Poems
Long Wombats Poems. Below are the most popular long Wombats by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Wombats poems by poem length and keyword.
In a time before the Eukaryote cell
Simple cells floated, and all was well
A garden of Eden in blissful flotation
Then innocence lost, onset of predation.
Big Bacteria attacked the small who were closest
Protists engulfed prey with phagocytosis.
Then plants arose, and to eat them, herbivores
Those herbivores got as big as a Brachiosaur.
Dinosaurs became birds by evolution
Hawks and Eagles were nature's solution.
They ate small mammals, natural balance.
No garden of Eden for a squirrel in the talons.
Herbivorous wombats became Marsupial lions.
A wolf marsupial evolved, such weirdness in science:
Looked just like one, evolved in same way
We think that in packs it ran down its prey.
Why can't nature leave its offspring alone?
Why endless fear, a danger zone?
Why must the predator evolve from the prey?
Can't we all get along, before judgement day?
In predation at least, there's no ill will
Some predator is hungry, wants to eat his fill
Intraspecies is where most evil arises
Home Sapiens specifically give us surprises.
Look at the nastiness once out of the garden
Nature should beg us for pardon.
Journey out to clean crisp air
Out beyond and over where
Giant trees reach for the sky
Butterflies flutter by
Wombats dig within the dirt
Bowerbirds woo and flirt
Decorating brighter blue
Nature's love must pass onto
The mate to lay and incubate
Eggs to hatch from the wait
Of timeless time to nurture young
As evolution has begun
Life will be forevermore
For the aves we all adore.
The animals will be just fine
On the land that is divine
Providing that we all respect
Care for them and reconnect
Let them be, to be aware
Our land, our world, our people share
Whilst daylight shines a golden glow
Upon the Earth and all below.
How to make poetry ( meaning-full?) Well
Thats a paradox? As i percieve.' Oxy-gen--less
And debilitating..A most limited field
that
Appears to me.' If poetry is not
creative by
Its very breathing out..Then I'm a wombats uncle..' I should not need to even write such out.! If poetry is
mechanical.? Though mechanical
exists.' Then i'll go to
The bar today to drink alcahol yet not
with the target aim of getting, by
real awarness ( kissed?) And i mean drinking to exess here.!
So don't come the 'raw prawn' with me'
either
The poetry (is raw,) and exciting in
origen from its spiritual seas.' If its
Not surging through your being.? Then you'll never polish it fine ! You might as
Well start fishing..Minus hook net; spear
Or line' and if you are of such denseness
You might as well also try.' To stockade the sky clouds before morning, and in the
Evening redecorate the skies.' For if you
Are their costodian, then you'll be rather
Long in the tooth, I rest my thoughts on
True inspiration now, before some
might attempt in getting it bought.'
For poetry is
Not a commodity, it always speaks
for itself..It cannot be turned on, or dissuaded
From, as if it is merely a physical
Self.! For those who think better, and count
Each comma and letter ? Go polish curds
Or ammass all worldly wealth as your treasure.)
We once were discerning,
we once had opinions.
But then we stopped learning,
and turned into minions.
One day, something happened.
We can’t tell you when.
One day we got crapped on,
and ceased to be men.
There once was a telly
whose end-word was “vision”,
Vidal and Minelli.
Who took the decision?
No, let’s not put Gore on.
Don’t fear their begrudgement.
They’re all total morons:
they don’t have no judgment.
Let’s just give them Fonzie
in suicide combat,
and re-run Beyoncé
in Dances With Wombats.
And once, public service
meant serving the voters:
now they get nervous
when pleasing promoters.
I’m sure I remember
a time before Mammon,
when decency’s embers
did not come with jam on.
Then one day it altered,
I can’t tell you how,
but honesty faltered –
and look at us now.
I'm riding on a bus
from Mareeba down to Cairns
Through steep, red soil, rain forest country
that often gets big rains
Suddenly there's a sign that says: Beware.
Cassawaries often cross the road
I've only seen a male and two young ones
in nine years since it's been the area , I've chosen to abode
There's anecdotal evidence from runners who follow tracks in rain forest scrub,
if you encounter a big aggressive male cassawary
You must immediately seek protection, hide behind a tree
otherwise an experience awaits, that could be rather hairy
"Cause if the big bird gets you in the open,
you could suffer lots of strife
With strong sharp talons, he could disembowel you
and then you would lose your life
Originally I'm from country
where emus abound
Wombats kookaburras and lyrebirds
also hang around
Sometimes an emu with young ones
would run ahead of our old car
Their bushy feathers bouncing at a speed of forty kilometres an hour
for a distance not too far
The emu and cassawary, both are very large
the cassawary has more colour
with black red and azure blue
The Emu more a monotone
with a dullish greyish hue
The brush turkey, another bird of interest
that visits near our home
They are able to fly but mostly only walk
wherever they do roam
It's breeding time again and the male is very busy
dragging decaying forest litter to build a nest, a mighty compost mound
The male controls the temperature once some eggs are laid
soon to hatch out, there will be young ones around
There are many more amazing Australian native birds ,I could add into my verse,
magpies ,spangled drongos and rainbow beeeaters too
And feeding on my passionfruit but leave a few for me
in view a noisy sulphur crested, white cockatoo
These birds do not fit category of the title
as they all mostly fly
So I'll finish of this poem
and bid a fond goodbye
This old geezer is multitalented
I'm able to talk and chew gum at the same time
Can even spit nickels while singing Moon River
Okay enough about this talented old soul
I'd like to hear what extraordinary talents you guys have
Let's keep it clean though
Little kiddies or sensitive old nannies
May have stumbled across the site
While searching for a recipe for French Canadian Pea Soup
Raunchy is permitted BUT
Only when describing the love habits
Of the Northern Hairy-Nosed Wombats of Australia
Their nose is very important in their survival
Since this creature has very poor eyesight
And needs its nose to smell food and other things in the dark
I have long since had that ability
Now aren't you glad you tuned in
So let me know what weird and scary talents you guys have
And I'll write a poem about it
May even get published in the quarterly edition of “Poetry Weekly”
Ta-Ta!
Pups, imps, joeys, wiggling tailed marsupials, hunting in parties of five.
Deadly facial cancer has killed lots of us, it’s a wonder I am still alive.
I screech when I eat, carrion, my utmost favorite food, road kill.
My aggression insured me at babyhood alive I would be still.
There were fifty in my litter, but only four teats so we scrappers had to fight.
Growling and viciously, snarling at each other, slapping away nice ones in the night.
Our mother was grabbed by a caveman devil who dragged her off by the neck.
I was incensed, and promptly chased after them, thinking “what the heck?”
Some of my siblings were frightened out of the old hollow log,
not many decided to stay.
I was not one of them. I showed my teeth,
and my aggressors promptly ran away.
Wombats, wallabies, opossums and other animals on this island of mine.
Steer clear of my hollow log, knowing I will
snap them up and eat them in no time.
Here,are warm times.
Out up in the sky is the golden sun,
Shinning brightly on all.
A food for green plants and the likes;
moulds,sea weeds too.
Featured birds,four-legged land animals.
Agile social insects,out in the woods,
hunting for grains and meats.
At the zoo,are wombats,emus,capybaras,
koalas and kangaroos juggling as games.
You'll here the busy gurgling of waters
from falls and springs.
In the great waters,with the great colonies of
sea creatures;sea lions,lobsters,sea horses,
dolphins amongst many,prey one another.
And there,in the center of the ancient town,
is Mr. Opy,a middle-aged fellow.
Just out to have fun!
All he says is,"it's summer, people!".
This old geezer is multitalented
I'm able to talk and chew gum at the same time
Can even spit nickels while singing Moon River
Okay enough about this talented old soul
I'd like to hear what extraordinary talents you guys have
Let's keep it clean though
Little kiddies or sensitive old nannies
May have stumbled across the site
While searching for a recipe for French Canadian Pea Soup
Raunchy is permitted BUT
Only when describing the love habits
Of the Northern Hairy-Nosed Wombats of Australia
Their nose is very important in their survival
Since this creature has very poor eyesight
And needs its nose to smell food and OTHER THINGS in the dark
I have long since had that ability
Now aren't you glad you tuned in
So let me know what weird and scary talents you guys have
And I'll write a poem about them
May even get published in the quarterly edition of “Poetry Weekly”
Ta-Ta!
. . . …. ….. . .
He lays his head on grass, breathing the sky
A rhapsody of hues trumpets rest day.
Blue Mountains, a lush parade like sun’s dye
Sweeping over hills wafting minted spray,
A mantle of fog drapes wedge peas up high,
While bobs roam in a space of home’s fresh ray.
Here, a man holds a gaze from wetlands call,
Inhaling lyrebird songs as wind chimes toll
Riding on colt, hooves paddle the creek floor
But clear peace is disturbed by crackling sounds
While magpies burst from trees, ready to soar
The air smells of smoke, the man quickens few rounds;
Scenes of Katoomba flames thump in mind’s core
Reminded by the burnt spread on forest mounds.
A pledge of honor to guard range of Oz
Is his code to keep wildlife from wrath’s cross
Amazed, wombats loudly screech on a hole
Teasing gums to play as they blow gray mist
A choir of mixed notes rattling like popped coal
The gorge answers with a lyrical twist,
Firefighter grins with joy in his soul
Winding sweet hours cradled and dusk-kissed.
Clouds caress his ride, graced by Mountain cruise
All is safe through music of the bush
(c)
. ……… . .
*In 2011, Blue Mountains (in Katoomba town) was threatened
by a wild blaze that was eased and controlled by a hundred
brave fire fighters of Australia. This is dedicated to the 100 rescuers
who saved this region listed as a World Heritage Area by UNESCO.
A pleasure to have visited this wonder a few years ago.
Tracie Edwards’ A Lil' Bit of Aus Contest