Long Yeti Poems
Long Yeti Poems. Below are the most popular long Yeti by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Yeti poems by poem length and keyword.
A whisper on the wind, a tale to be told,
Of mountains, secrets and wisdom bold.
My uncle vanished, into darkness he strayed,
In the the Himalayas, where the Yeti plays.
Cthulhu… Cthulhu… echoing deep,
Silence of the valley where the lost souls creep.
Madness like a river, flows through my veins,
Searching for the truth, dancing with chains.
Only Madness! Madness! Madness!
An immortal priest beckoned, his decadence divine,
With laughter like thunder, he whispered dark lines.
I traveled through the valleys, India to Bhutan,
Chasing shadows, where the lost dream spawns.
Cthulhu… Cthulhu… echoing deep,
Silence of the valley where the lost souls creep.
Madness like a river, flows through my veins,
Searching for the truth, dancing with chains.
Only Madness! Madness! Madness!
Ten years in the snow, with memories like ash,
A tea girl spoke softly, “The map is on my sash.”
Mt. Kunlun awaits with a smile that is grim,
Shambhala’s a whisper, where the light’s grown dim.
Cthulhu… Cthulhu… echoing deep,
The valley where the lost souls creep.
Madness like a river, flows through my veins,
Searching for the truth, I'm dancing with chains.
Only Madness! Madness! Madness!
So here I stand, a shadow in the snow,
On an endless search, the wild winds blow.
In Shambhala, the truth makes its stand,
Bound to madness, I reach out for the Hand.
Madness! Madness! Madness!
Last weekend I scoured the earth for fun. I ran the race.
I danced in the rain. I jumped hoops and ate holly-berry sandwiches.
Then I took my pet Yeti and went for a walk in the park where
Regular humans without Yetis either ran up or ran away screaming
I had forgotten that some people are afraid of yetis, gargoyles, ducks.
Being fearless, Yeti and I took a dive into the lake. Brr....
We froze our human-toids off, and I did not know he had human-toids.
I painted some murals on my neighbor's face, and I whirled a bit.
The twirling was there for the taking, but it would have been overkill.
I refused to do anything I did not want to do. It being the weekend.
I refuse to waste Saturdays doing stuff that does not make me happy.
Sundays are for lounging in my bathtub until the water stops boiling.
So yes, I did take a bath, with bubbles, and my pet octopus.
The pink one, who is not so prissy, not the stuck-up blue one.
My grandchildren came over and we painted the ceiling
Not with a mere solid color, but with murals that irritated grandpa.
We also formed a band, planted a garden, and built a tower.
Kansas City had never seen such a tower: we are still marveling.
I am pretending I have no idea who did it, as it ended up in
The middle of I-70 and there may be a little fine involved.
What did you do last weekend? And it better be something fun.
I only understand joyous, wonderful, terrific, outstanding stuff.
Oh, I almost forgot. I drove around in my fire truck blowing sirens.
I was fined for that, by the police and fire chief. Thanks Dad!
I
Where, oh where is Virginia Dare*,
No one can find her anywhere.
Her disappearance is the very worst,
I guess that's what comes from being the first.
*Virginia Dare was born on Aug. 18, 1587 in Roanoke Colony, Virginia, the first child born in the New World to English parents. Both the colony and all its inhabitants…80 men, 17 women, and 11 children…disappeared mysteriously, and no traces have ever been found.
II
Amelia Earhart* flew away
And hasn't been seen
To this very day.
Her goal was to make it to Paris in style,
But got only as far as a small desert isle.
*Presumed to have crashed on Howland Island in the Central Pacific Ocean, Amelia disappeared on July 2, 1937. According to a 2015 news article, her remains may have been found and identified.
III
And Jimmy Hoffa*,
Of course it's just hearsay,
Is fertilizing a field
In New York or New Jersey.
The reason for doing him in was excused,
The mob made him an offer,
And Jimmy refused.
*He was heavily involved with the mob-controlled Teamsters Union. He disappeared on July 30, 1975.
IV
The mystery in London
That continues a gripper,
Scotland Yard still doesn't know
Who was Jack the Ripper.*
Was he maybe a royal, a doctor, a rounder?
At least now the prostitutes are all sleeping sounder.
*He terrorized London from 1888-1891. the term "Ripperology" was coined to describe the study and analyses of the Ripper cases. There are over 100 theories about his identity.
V
Another conundrum
Hashed o'er many a snifter,
Concerning Sasquatch, or Bigfoot*,
Is he a myth or a mythter?
It's widely agreed that he's really quite scary,
His general description is big, tall, and hairy.
*We can also add Yeti to the list.
VI
Last, but not least,
There's the Anasazi.*
Did they self-destruct
Like a kamikaze?
Or did they decide to quit stone-age labors
And move to the city like most of their neighbors?
*This is the historical Navajo name meaning "Ancient Ones" who inhabited the 4-Corners region…Utah, Arizona, New Mexico, and Colorado…up until sometime in the 13th century, archaeologists surmise. Why they abandoned their towns and cities is still a mystery.
He is legend, folklore and for some reality,
an ape-hominid-like creature of many names;
he is Big Foot, Sasquatch, Yeti or wild man,
science discounts his existence, many believe,
six to ten feet tall,
five hundred pounds,
covered in brown fur,
a strong unpleasant odour.
The Indigenous people of Canada tell stories,
stories told of wild men living in British Columbia;
each tribe had its own version of this hairy creature,
who is said to be omnivorous and nocturnal,
very large eyes,
enormous large feet,
twenty four inches long,
wanders the deep forests.
Big Foot hunters have organized hunts in California,
gigantic footprints have been found in Bluff Creek;
miners in 1924 claimed they were attacked by Big Foot,
a Canadian prospector said he was abducted by Sasquatch,
sightings or hoax
stories, misidentifications
mystical creature
legend, folklore or reality
The scientific view is that there is no supportive data,
that many of the sightings and footprints have been false;
hoax's the newspapers have sensationalized on the facts,
but how can we reject the thousands of alleged footprints,
scattered over miles,
dismiss the witnesses,
the photographs taken,
the hundreds of stories told.
_____________________
April 17, 2015
Poetry/Verse/Chasing Footprints
Copyright Protected, ID 04-663-717-17
All Rights Reserved, 2015, Constance La France
For the Standard contest, Big Foot,
sponsor, A Poet Destroyer, Judged 05/2015
Second Place
Nessie lifted her head today for just a second.
I saw it, and thought ‘there she is!’ black skinny neck.
Black face, looked dinosaur-like. I ran flat out toward her.
Was it the “real” Nessie?
She dove down hard, did a disappearing act.
I lifted my green wading pool, looking underneath.
Thinking there was going to be a deep cavern,
But there was nothing but wet leaves and brown earth.
“Looking for a drain were you?” A snotty voice said to me.
I looked up into the eyes of a smug, irritating arch-enemy.
Dhramned Abominable Snowman! Out of all the stalkers in
The world, why did he have to be mine?
By nature, zetetic,
he doubted the yetic,
but xenogenetic? That just seemed absurd.
A known workaholic,
scoured feeds from Videtics,
but was unsympathetic, in a word.
At best, theoretic,
and in large part, synthetic,
only the rabietic were on board.
Tilting towards quixotic,
their fevered ravings, phrenetic,
though onomatopoetic,
eschewed the noetic, impaled themselves on truth’s sword.
A parrot’s mimetic,
much like Loch Ness limnetics,
ignored body kinetics,
claimed pre-Japhetic disperse.
Yet still more idiotic,
seizing the hypothetic,
their case for genetics made worse!
But like all true fanatics,
the more so, emphatic,
they're left with a docetic sasquatch.
Finding all copasetic,
they get rather bathetic
when antithetic folk question their watch!
----------
So, the original goal was a monorhyme using the '-etic' ending.
Then, I realized I might be able to use one on every line, from Z..A,
but I made a few concessions along the way, departing from '-etic' a few times.
And I added a little rhyme, using the '-etic' words within the lines...
And if the storyline is a little thin, don't wreck my aesthetic...
zetetic - skeptical, proceeding by inquiry
yetic - pertaining to all things Yeti :-)
Videtics is a real company that does AI analysis of video feeds
rabietic - relating to rabies
limnetics - pertaining to the deeper, open waters of a lake
Japhetic - pertaining to one of Noah's sons, so, basically, antediluvian
docetic - an early heresy suggesting only a spiritual body
bathetic - effusively emotional
The Real Monsters
We are afraid of fire breathing dragons and scaly lizards.
Things that go bump in the night. Shadow creatures
who live under our beds and in our closets. Yeti
and Big Foot. Pale ghosts and poltergeists.
Chupacabra’s and vampires. Blood red
demons with pitchforks and horns.
Imaginary monsters that
can do us no real harm.
Why do we fear
them.
What we should be afraid of are people who chose evil.
MS13 and coyotes that traffic in human misery.
Corporate media giants that censor speech. Corrupt
politicians who sell us out to foreign countries.
School boards that label parents terrorists.
Dictators that oppress. Political correctness.
Murders, abusers, gossips, embezzelers.
Wars, hatred and genocide.
We should fear these. For
they are the
real
monsters.
In Lochness, an undulating giant lives;
legendary Nessie; giant oarfish or
prehistoric remnant?
No one knows for certain,
but he bothers no one; leave him be.
In mountainous terrain, walks the Yeti.
Part man; part beast; perhaps the missing link?
Science said of its remains,
“It is a relative of ancient polar bears”; perhaps.
In Jersey woods, people say a, “Devil” hides;
a new species or an experiment in genetics, gone awry?
There are many Doctor Moreau’s and Frankenstein’s,
in this world and they do,
abandon their mistakes.
Regardless, life is life and
it must be respected,
for harmony to reign.
What if cryptids aren’t myth?
People say, “You can’t cross a rabbit with a cat”,
but it has been done.
Perhaps humankind has made,
the mistakes of ancient ancestors;
maybe centaurs and fauns were once…real?
On such an old planet…whom can be certain?
Ancient texts and glyphs, speak of many things,
mythical and legendary and history does…repeat.
Someone had to tamper with genetics,
to discover that pig arteries,
can work in the human body;
that cow plasma, could too.
The human explores its world;
exploiting even ravaging other species,
without concern for the end result.
Perhaps, humans should leave, well enough alone.
“Nessie”, “Yeti”, “Jersey Devil”; cryptids,
like all life, should be free to live.
The human species,
is the most deadly and destructive,
of all predators.
Clearly, not the smartest, at times;
Not even with regard to, its other siblings.
Humans seem to obliterate everything, they touch;
never caring for the harm that they do…until it’s too late.
Even then, some never lend anymore thought, to their deeds.
The Hunter for PD
Yesterday, I visited
the timeless monastery
where the Buddhist monks dwell,
the place a sublime testament
to their simplicity, perception
and peace.
With delight,
I viewed the fragment of skull
and the skeletal fingers:
repellent to some,
yet exquisite to me, my fascination
with the enigma ravenous.
I listened to the monk’s story,
fantastical, but not filled
with excessive intensification.
He looked into my eyes,
his own moist,
steady but not defiant,
as he recounted the epic tale.
As the minutes ticked by,
I was filled with ecstasy:
this wasn’t a nefarious conman,
his story was not tainted
with planning and motives,
and, as I thanked him for his time,
I believed he really had seen
Meh-Teh, the yeti,
the abominable snowman –
call it what you will -
on a glacier, and, again,
in the snowy valley;
he had heard gunshots ricochet
and had later retrieved
the gruesome relics.
I would never quit searching…
Betty McNee was a curiously well-rounded kid
She sparkled and shone with whatever she did
She took after her grandpop, Jimmy McNee
Scottish and smart, she was joyful with glee.
Your granddad was wonderful the boxers all said.
They were horrified to find out Jimmy was dead.
If you need anything, we’ll bring round some money.
They all thought Jimmy's granddaughter was a really sweet honey.
An invitation to Betty came in the mail one fine day.
It was from Nepal and Tibet, countries way far away.
I loved your grandpa, the invitation said. Please come to stay.
She put on her plaids and she went right away.
The letter writer was a Yeti, a really great guy.
He had thought a lot of her grandpa, up in the sky.
They formed a partnership and wrote raps together.
She stayed there through December, until the bad weather.
Why don’t you come back to the states with me?
She asked the Yeti, as sweet as could be.
He blushed with pink, at this crazy bold thought.
Deciding to stay, where he was welcome a lot.
But they continued to write, this Yeti and Lass.
They were lifelong friends, and they traveled first class.
When they visited each other, under shadow of night.
For weird twisted people might not have thought it was right.