Long Zebra Poems
Long Zebra Poems. Below are the most popular long Zebra by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Zebra poems by poem length and keyword.
Where is your costume? This question comes from my boss, who is dressed like a mouse
With a cookie.
Best of all, she has brought us all cookies.
I have already eaten mine, and it was scrumptious.
I do not say I did not think it was fair for teachers and the principal to dress up when children cannot
Today, Halloween, so I do not say anything, lamely pointing to my zebra costume as she is my principal.
Why are you not wearing it? The Mouse with the Cookie queries.
That is easy.
I have a very serious talk coming up in three minutes with the fifth graders about anti-bullying
And Title IX law.
The law that says bullying and discrimination are against the law.
So I have a great out.
I explain this.
Understood.
The day runs smoothly until I explain Title IX law and a fifth grader asks me, “Why can
The President bully people and make fun of them if it is against the law?”
So much for a smoothly-run day.
Zebras. Monkeys. Lions too.
Decorating every corner.
Gorgeously done.
Not the approved way,
But a gloriously new classroom
With a fresh teacher with crazy ideals intact.
She was a bit too cheerful.
Too open. Too friendly. Maybe a small-town girl.
Not institutionalized at all, not used to our ways.
What is she thinking? We whispered
Behind her back, and in front of her face.
She was a unicorn in a world of gargoyles.
We poked fun of her with our cracked cement faces.
She obviously knows not what she is about, we said.
The students will tear up that classmate in seconds, showing their colors.
Browns and grays ourselves, we never got around to showing her,
for children saw her for her pinks, oranges and greens.
The test scores came out in July.
Zebra, Monkey, Lion, Unicorn odd-ball’s class
Had the highest test scores in the state.
She was promoted to coach, to teach the others how to show kind colors.
Many of the whisperers left, not wanting to be taught.
I decided to stay and apologize.
The next year my classroom is filled to the brim
with gorillas, tigers, unicorns, hope, kindness and colors.
She is teaching me her magic ways.
Form:
Adjectives laugh, insisting on their way
Bright eyed ideas determined to stay
Creativity ready to leap and parlay,
Dancing along my dendrite highway
Elusive words rather well fed
Frankenstein fodder explodes in my head.
Grotesque vocabulary parades in my brain.
Hip hop dancers drive me quickly insane.
I eat sixteen sweet rolls, hoping to get fat.
Joking and jumping this way and that.
Kookaburra does knee bends each and every day
Longing to twist me in another creative way
Mysterious mantis is now flying freshly free
Nefarious tentacles swiftly and firmly grab me.
Ostrich in top hat lets out an exasperated sigh.
Purple eggplant pinnacles decorate a warm pie.
Quivering chimps travel in a new outer space.
Responsible llama queens are running in place.
Striped horse pretends now to be a zebra.
Twirling in Africa with a shiny ameba.
Underwater feelings with her weird hums
Vision quests brought on by Cherokee drums.
Walrus and whales summoning a great white shark,
‘Xtraspecial playmates whistling in the autumn dark.
Youth spreading coffee cake around to annoy.
Zealots persuading no one of their frenzied joy.
The most recognizable album cover in history, the photo of the
Beatles crossing Abbey Road, taken in the summer of sixty nine,
fifteen minutes before noon on August eight to be précised.
An iconic album cover for the image resonated with the fans.
There are wall posters of this photo and it seems men, my age,
in music industry have one in their living rooms or studios.
The photograph of the most influential band in the world walking
on a zebra crossing became one of the most imitated of all time.
I am one of those who imitated it five months ago, 19 of October
at eleven fifty in the morning, when we had photos taken crossing
Abbey Road, amidst a busy road in northwest London in St. John’s Wood
in the city of Westminster, outside Abbey Road Studios, formerly EMI.
We crossed Abbey Road in single file with me leading, followed by my
daughter and my granddaughter with our fourth person, my grandson
taking the pictures so he was not included, kind of disappointing.
How I wish we were there on October 9, John Lennon and my birthday.
Souper Suessy Poetry Contest 12-7-25
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Suessy Parade
At midnight dawn my mind escapes to play among the stars
To a Summerland parade, just a bit bizzare,
Where grand marshals, Zebra Fish, lead the way in clouds
Making way for Fluegel Zoots that toot their horns out loud
Perfect lines of Elephins flying with hot air Hippos
Follow rows of Dolphinettes that march with high step Zippos
Whirling Woodles dance in step to the dispy doodle
Crickethoppers jump then jive with the Wooly Woozles
Porpi pass in somersaults with Unicorns so wild and free
Comet Twirlers twist and shout, dressed in fantasies
Snarfish on stilts lead the dance troop of the seven moons
And throw confetti as they pass to the Curly Noonelles
Red Giants snoozle in the parade riding on gopo sticks
As Tispy Oddles giggle om-pahs leading drumlines in high kicks
The Silver Reeds, dressed in gold, dance the frango dango
As the magic parade now ends when dawn skies turn bright mango.
You might find it very strange, in fact some think it's quite absurd
For when I stroll around the zoo, I like to exchange a word or two
I can't deny, I wouldn't lie, I like to shoot the breeze with that Lion guy!
And when I leave, with twinkled eyes, he cheerily says, "Adieu, Good Bye!"
I pass on by and say "G'day", to Hippity Hoppity Kangaroo
I greet Giraffe, we share a laugh, and then "How are you??" to the Gnu!
I chat while the Chimps do acrobats, and say "E...llo" to Mr. Elephant...
Poor Tiger's throat is very sore.......well that's a bore!
I offer honey for his grrrrrrrr......he takes a spoonful....and then he roars!!
The Penguins standing on the ice...I gave them boots, and sage advice
(They are rather bashful....but very nice!)
I sing a ditty while Dolphins swim, and "What's up?"...to Wally Whale
To the Zebra, dressed in black and white,...."Good evening, chums...and Nighty Nite!"
It seems bizarre ....to talk to those, who live their lives, behind the bars...
I chat a lot, perhaps it's looney...but it's really only, because they get lonely...
So, if you like to talk a lot....give strolling through the zoo a shot!!
The Zebra Mussel Invasion (The Story Of The Three Hump Clam)
God’s opalescence-
Mississippi riverbed
Suffocating sleep
_________________________________________________
Dedicated to Nadine and Burl, of “River City Pearls” in Alma
Wisconsin, fighting heroically to save the many species of
Mississippi river clams, bordering on extinction, from the
Choking Zebra Mussel invasion, your effort is honorable.
.
For you history buffs, Nadine was a pioneer in the Chinese
“mother of pearl” button-trade industry over 50 yrs. ago,
(now vanished) originating from this area of the Mississippi near
Alma called “Lake Pepin” a vast expanse of the river with
Minnesota on one side, and Wisconsin on the other, her River
Pearl Jewelry and Oil Paintings are internationally acclaimed.
A cat sniffs the crooked brown dough of the sullen moon;
The tempting smell of warm bread seems held by a glass sky
Old age, carefully steps on the glass, always ready to cry
Like they`d learn again to walk,holding an invisible balloon.
With glassy eyes looking at the strange baked moon,
The large dynasty of the unemployed and ex-miners,
Ecologists and readers of Bible, embarrassed beginners
Cannot "hear at a little distance", in the brown afternoon;
But a short-sighted misanthropist, observed while acting
As a conductor of the strike`s syncopation turned in syncope:
“Even the doctor with infinite awkwardness used his stethoscope;
I think, -because, no one can communicate only through feelings”
The brown cat in the street, shining eyes round about;
All cars seem gathered in the same frozen town;
The only birch tree from the hill was cut down;
Mourning neighbors live in their permanent doubt
To protest against solitude, and so many noisy cars;
And obviously, too many accidents in the town;
“Wait on the zebra…Don`t cross Mr. Brown!”
Lonely crowds, picture of still life with cellulars…
Seasons buried the face in tired brown fountains,
Long dirty brown drifts of snow and brown sensations
Step with ugly brown clay, and let traces for generations,
Because, cyanide used to pull gold from Red Mountains;
Everybody is in such a brown hurry towards nowhere.
Halt!Mr. Brown looks for his cat; the firemen help him to sit.
The cat climbed the moon, ready in a hurry to taste it;
Winter and cat stay with claws out;silence and the brown vault.
It was break time in the Jungle
The elephant took his chance
To ask the lady hippo
If she'd like to dance.
The Leo Lion Combo,
Sax drums guitar and bass,
Mightily played away
So music filled the space.
Twenty seven giraffe
Employed just for the night
Carried rigs to Illuminate
From their great height,
With strobes and spots
And dimmers and flash.
The Zebra formation troupe
Performed with zeal and dash.
The chimp in the corner
Made obeisance to the Gnu
As they joined the Palais Glide
Proceeding two by two by two.
The jungle buzzed and jived
During this daily break
Until the back to work buzzer
Was sounded by a duty snake.
The daily truce was over,
The Bush baby decided to beat it
Before some hungry carnivore
Tried to catch and eat it.
The tempo had been fast
The rhythm nice and loose
And the animals had enjoyed
Their daily pre lunch truce.
Back to normal in the jungle,
Twenty four hours to survive
Until the excitement of
The next daily Jungle Jive.
Bow to your partner
Then take your chance
To make good your escape
After the last notes of the dance.
Listen to the roar of the noble beast,
The King needs no introduction.
Whether lazing about or hunting a feast,
He puts on quite a production!
His thunderous roar is his lion’s song,
He is Lord of the African Plaines.
Clever, handsome, sleek, and strong,
You know him by reputation and name.
He sports a great mane, his most prominent feature,
And he wears a fine coat of golden brown.
He’s a mammal and a carnivore by nature,
And when he roars, he’s heard from miles around!
If you were a zebra or antelope or elk,
On a hot sunny day out grazing the grass,
You’d have to beware and look out for yourself,
For a day you spend playing might just be your last!
There’s one King of the Cats, who may be known to you,
He’s a little bit milder, but still wild and not tame.
He lives with his mate Elsie in his home at the zoo,
And if your lucky, you’ll hear him roar, “Webster’s My Name!”