Hippopotomonstrosesquipedaliophobia
An irrational fear of large or long words
Well, you might say that’s for the birds
And it’s your right to have your say
A hippopotamus for most of us
Is an Artiodactyla, an even toed ungulate
While monstrum in Latin means: unnatural things
A monstrosity, a warning from the gods
While as showoffs, sesquipedalians use long words
So don’t scare them with your Titan Arum
But say to those with Ithyphallophobia
Or to the megalophallian “Nostrvia!”
And don’t be calloused towards
What happens afterwards
Or averse to what happens after “words”
In the post coital spooning
Don’t let your creative inhibition
Be the condition of wrestling with tabula rasa
And don’t let coitus interruptus
Or a caudal Janus face give you writer’s block
(I’m trying to be a gentleman
by calling it a phallus and not a rooster)
So, you won’t find here this fear of
Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
They arrive before dawn~
antlers strapped to stocking caps,
felt noses safety-pinned to fleece.
Downtown Dallas exhales frost
as hooves slap pavement~
a migration of office workers,
lawyers, bankers, teachers,
students, retirees~
all briefly ungulate,
pounding
the urban tundra
while above them,
skyscrapers
turn into frozen pines.
The Finish Line smells of gingerbread
and spilled energy drinks.
No one wins, but
everyone who gallops across
the Finish Line receives a red t-shirt
proclaiming:
I ran with the herd.
Stars on strings dangle.
The prance of a lovely angel,
Infatuates those who know,
She will go against your foe.
Curtains unveil new life,
A dreamy eclipse reflects a knife.
Dull metallics do show,
She will greet your foe.
Lights from the heavens rain,
Luminating a growing pain.
Darkening course veins flow,
She will adore your foe.
Crumbling walls ungulate
Destruction writes a fate,
A bruised demon doth crow.
She is your foe.
Black coffee for sunny mornings and hangovers,
or with the rich cream of a female ungulate caregiver.
A quick Danish for the tardy to arrive,
crispy bacon for first responders.
Duck fat in the skillet fry’s anything better -
let’s it slide off a plate.
Wipe tongues with Oolong,
Be sure to keep a store of nuts and berries.
Chocolates and red wine restores blasé taste buds.
Keep writing love menus.
A graveyard in Autumn is good with coffee and cream,
black coffee is for sunny mornings and hangovers,
but autumnal graveyards need the richness
of a female ungulate caregiver.
A coffin viewing
with a Danish can also be recommended
for late responders.
Every sweet poem needs a slice of lemon in it.
Sorrow needs strawberries, let that fruity blood
fill the back of your mouth, then wipe your tongue clean
with a cup of Oolong tea or orange pecan.
Autumn is the bluest month
for blue is scarce, winter white is coming
and it’s going to taste of grief for someone.
Use plenty of duck fat and bake your own pies,
anything that will slide off your plate
will get you through to a better place.
Be sure to keep a store of nuts and berries.
Compose bright poems laced with arsenic.
Hold on tight,
until the daylight wins some space
for a dreaming head to see through.
Chocolates and red wine restore and heal
eyes that are sick of looking.
Keep writing.
most wanted lost list —
shy silver-backed chevrotain
this little mouse-deer
imagined in Vietnam
ungulate with hooves and fangs
11/13/2019
I‘m not a dog or cat in the area,
I am a carnivore in Africa;
I really roam to look for food to eat,
You cannot evade my sharp and tough teeth.
I run through ungulate herds in order
To select a victim to devour;
I hunt for precious prey just to attack,
I am highly wise and cleverly smart.
I am social and known as scavenger,
Although in truth I am a predator;
I frequently steal fresh kills from lions,
I want to challenge Komodo dragons.
I show less restraint, Lioness, beware!
Making an attempt at a takeover;
I drive off larger predators from kills,
I consume dinner with my superb skills.
Male Lions, If you threaten me with force,
I call my buddies to make matters worse;
You will run away with forlorn aura,
I’m winner because I’m the Hyena.
Date: July 6, 2019
Title chosen: The Hyena
Sponsor: Edward Ibeh
Contest Title: Pick A Title, Vol. 6-Personification-Poetry Contest
Contest Judged: 7/20/2019 10:08:00 AM
2nd Place
Brightly
Shiny
The axis wobble
Eternal circle
Summer adieu
Seasons anew
Allegory
Autumn glory
Raspberry
Cranberry
Amaranth pink
Apple cider drink
Fragrance
The prance
Vesper
Glitter
Star chart
Sweetheart
Cabriolet
Maple archway
Ungulate
Congregate
Beautiful
Musical
The dance
The trance
Hold tight
Cold night
Mistletoe
Never let go
Leaf raindrops
Snow peak tops
Fall advance
True romance
Meadow
Aglow
A rainbow
Moon halo
Pumpkin spice
Paradise
Twilight silver
Midnight murmur
Elfin of frost
Harvest exhaust
An open sea
Blanket canopy
Cuddle pleasure
Equal treasure
Glee
Tree
Nude
Valued
Heart
Art
Me
Thee
Sitting there with
Rosie Palms.
Heard a tape recently of when only nineteen; the likes in my speech gone but still just obscene .
night while you watch.
An alien breed taking in primal needs; the static image
forms, ungulate; depraved ream.
Re-played the scene; of re-playing me ; Me and space Rosie addicted to skin.
No longer adolescent
but developmentally delayed?
mindful but ignoring the aliens backstory;splayed.
She was young like me but now she's old and sad. A corporate
pimp took her future and reduced it to a broken loop. .
Now that's all left for to make protein soup..
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