Short Mammoths Poems
Short Mammoths Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Mammoths by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Mammoths by length and keyword.
What kind of pet did Harry bring home?
Not from Alaska, Italy, Corinth or Rome
Massie and mastadonic, my mama said.
But aren’t all wooly mammoths kind of dead?
Huge woolly mammoths have long been extinct
Why create creatures that are to T-Rex linked?
They were frozen in ice
Don't remake them from mice
Am I clear or should I be more succinct?
VOLCANO
burning red mammoths
spear howl dust rock roar cannons
scramble mice and men
Dinosaurs from the past were so intriguing
Imagining them roaming free, so awe-inspiring
Us humans are so puny
These mammoths groovy
If they still roamed free, our poop would be piling
lively lumbering lions
meandering muscular mammoths
nightfall’s notorious newts
oscillating ornery octopi
playful plushy platypus
quintessential quibbling quail
responsibly respecting restless reptiles
Dinosaurs from the past were so intriguing
Imagining them roaming free, so awe-inspiring
Us humans are so puny
These mammoths were groovy
If they still roamed free, our poop would be piling
We invented the spear, and the mammoths were dead.
Then our flintlocks and muskets filled bison with dread.
Next came chainsaws and oil:
planting bones in the soil.
What new wonders I wonder will spring from our head?
You ruled your world
The largest creature around
But that was so long ago
Extinction found you
Lost to all of time
But one was found
Hidden in Lake Pleasant
Just fragile bones
Locked away in a museum
But now you are remembered
A baseball team honors you
May the Moon Mammoths live forever
XIII/IX/MMXXV
LRET
My pillar a dying log,
had stood firm through tireless tides.
My pillar a shrunken log,
her skin depicts all her life journeys.
My pillar shall break soon,
She promised not to break so soon.
With grace i had polish her frail skin,
Fed her all chance had granted me.
Her ground cracks and shall stable her no more,
If thee perish,curse the soil and its greedy mammoths.
Form:
Hunting wooly mammoths
Using flint sphears
Nearly getting killed by tusks
Fires cooking
Eating in our caves
Recording our lives
In the stone age !!
So simple
Sitting round-chilling by the fire
No worrying
No hurrying
Hanging with the fam
Got no time for the feds
Got no time for the teach
In the stone age !!
Love so deep
When he leaves
Hope so low
Fear so high
Yet love so deep
In the stone age !!!
Trudging through the snow, her cubs lag behind...oblivious
Haven't seen a seal for days, perhaps weeks
There are few ice-bergs left to hunt upon
Adrift in the ocean...think again
It's not a coincidence fossils of mammoths are being found more than ever
Soon you won't need your pithy pants...or snow shoes
Soon...someone might be sleeping in your bed
Pithy Pants 2 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Maureen McGreavy
2/14/2019
Heaven has not left
the long dead bone,
alert mouse whiskers,
still move the seven seas.
At the beginning and the end
there is nothing to come,
that has not come and is.
Mammoths stride
a thousand leagues,
over a single blade of grass.
One small sparrow -
an Ark for infinity.
All that is,
is but one single event.
The speckled hen
lays worlds within worlds.
The unbridled beaks of seagulls,
unlock a book,
of common prayer.
Atlantis per Carolyn
Carolyn, So when the greatest of the mammoths drowned,
the waters rose over the old home town,
and Noah's Ark it wallowed forth,
a sea of mud Atlantic ocean brought,
Great Tuaoi stone went under,
Devils triangle, still works it's wonders,
perhaps for really naught?
the Alantean Gesunder...
should be sought,
thereunder,
ought.
Don Johnson
Brian Strand
Contest Name SEPTEMBER-YOUR CHOICE any theme/form max 14 lines
Masted castles crown the mountains
Hidden by the brackish sea,
Where a string of boiling fountains
Dot the ever-spreading lea.
Leafless forests of the deep,
Visited by swimming birds,
Serve as sailors’ place to sleep,
Roamed by mute, abyssal herds.
Neptune’s armies stride undaunted
While his mammoths plunge and rise,
One of which bewitched and haunted
Ahab to his swift demise.
Find my poems and published poetry volumes at www.eton-langford.com
Trailing steel cans
and rolling out their
long rags.
The morning is a frost
broken in clamorous relief.
Frayed holes in their eaten
gloves carry a crushed chore,
a rotted job bundled in skins
of wet plastics.
They emerge from a deep
hidden hour
riding the back jaws
of neglected mammoths.
A storm hammers
in the scrape of their tongues.
The dogs lunge
for their voices.
They remove what lingers too long
from our past.
Published Black Buzzard Press 1982