Short Storks Poems

Hey Frank!
Don’tcha keep
Servin’ up
Them storks

Yeah, Frank, you…
Stop it!
Ya can’t cook
Stork

Shut her down
Board her up
Set ‘em free
Sorry Frank!...

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Knock , Knock

What is green 

And wrapps neatly around 
Moi Senor Storks kneck

I give up

Is it 

I

A soon to be about

Ex-frog

Green live matter

Never quit...

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"How do you get a baby?" The five-year-old asked, with a bit of pep.
“Lettuce leaves, storks, monkeys leave them on your door step.”
"Seriously, grandma, you’ll tell me, right? I looked into her trusting eyes.
“Of course,," agreed. "They arrive in pearl shells that drop from the skies.”...

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Bordeaux birds are forever bright
                                    They avoid Lammergeiers night
                                           Flamingos and storks
                                          Know the use of forks
                                       In the Puy de Sancy height...

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Seven well-fed storks
complained of being too fat,
so they started a chat.


" Why do small robins
fly fast and are happier?"
" Are they healthier?"


Mother stork replied,
" Do what they do...fly further
and you'll be thinner!"


The drab storks refused
to take her advice: to fly
like them and not die....

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Some Storks and Froggies
Decided to play
One night by the light of the moon

But the tail of their game
Was much too profane
And besides 
It ended too soon

It’s for your best
Storks would say
Please see things our way
Just trust us
And you will do well

But the rules they rewrote
And the frogs lost the vote
And with frog
Stork bellies did swell...

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Some say the law is the law
What else would it be?
Some say babies come from storks
From under the leaves of cabbages
Are they sure of their facts?
Cabbages are not very pretty
I've never seen them turn heads
To turn over a new lease on life
Don't turn over that next leaf 
Leave it for the farmer
They say sex is sex whatever that means
The farmer's daughter is even better...

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Those migratory storks,
will not come
this year.
The lake was burning.

The secret kill
of the wringer
was metastasizing.
Make the tether-

small for the macabre
end. I am not yet
frozen. The stalker

will not leave the
flame. Outside a tribute
was ready for
an uprooted tree.

My shadow moves ahead
to catch a cage bird,
in the parrot green sky.



Satish Verma...

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Humans have their storks but not so in the Land of drups.
Where koi fish deliver new babies in polka dotted cups.
They are brought in by telepathy on the tail of a half moon.
Making their prospective parents giddy and full of swoon.

They are left in their carriers in the back yards of course.
Protected under the jurisdiction of a unicorn horse.
Don’t go telling the tale, it is not for other humans to know.
I only told you because you spied the drop and the glow....

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people throw stones in incomplete workshops
they oftentimes destroy the center of the foundation before it has a chance to grow
noses become storks' beaks and smirks become suspect
the sunshine becomes enamored with the furies amongst the clouds
though beautifully melodic as they sound, i can smell the soup bubbling in the pot
alphabet pasta becomes acidic aftershock
when the words are created without the proper form of thought, 
the structure of the workshops will surely crumble...

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