Waddles Poems | Examples

4 Chickens: A Survival Story

It seemed to happen in a flash.
Our movements were rash.
Behind the breakfast bar
With scraps of potato hash.
Our webbed little feet
Stuck in a muddy mash.
Scores of us slip-slapping up the alley
Unabashed, with feathers
Mucked and thrashed
Finally on the road and--boom! Crash!
Linda was blindsided, 
Some trucker with a stash.
There were eight of us now
Headed for a small pond in Wabash.
Just 200 waddles in the razor tall leaves
That thrash and slash.
Finally the four of us left see
Beyond the man-sized vines
The immaculate vision of the chicken party.
The most bodacious aquatic bash:
The one they call "The Chicken Splash."

P is for Pangolin

In an alphabet book that my grandson once liked,
One page unfamiliar to me
Which, in turn, got my curiosity spiked,
Was the animal listed for P.

For a pangolin isn’t your average beast,
But an anteater covered in scales,
Looking quite prehistoric from head to, not least
Of its features, those long spiky nails.

It waddles in search of its main source of food,
For which it employs every sense,
Yet if threatened, it is very quickly subdued;
Curling up is its only defense.

I learned all about this today on TV,
But I’m glad that awareness was raised
In an alphabet book on which, ages ago,
Both my grandson and I once had gazed.

beaver mole or platypus

Beaver, mole or platypus? It waddles like all three.
I watch the creature scoot along, wild, weird and free.
If she pauses along the way to leave some tiny eggs down
I will call her Platte City Platypus, named for my uncle’s town.

male peacock

A flash of shiny blue silk waddles into view of the bamboo stalks
a distinct crown and Egyptian painted eye; his beak is golden
Male peacock, shows his glorious feathers,
his symmetrical design gorgeously done
He courageously wanders onto a cliff of gray shale, 
The moon is not any shinier than his magnificent feathers;
Other creatures are in awe, marveling at his unique costume
A feathery concoction that his wife does not dare wear,
Her muted browns help her keep their eggs in hiding.

A Summer Flower

Ring, ring, ringing a bell
And singing towards the sound of crystals.
Too cold for a moonlight shine;
Too hot for a feast’s flame;
However just right it is, how softly
It sits and waddles its paws,
Little sundrops flop over the delicate
Leaves of colourful imagination.
A comfortably scorched piece and
To be seen tomorrow, see you next time.

Little Bit

Little Bit waddles and limps downstairs at the sound of my voice. Barks at the hyperactive English Springer with all the fervor of Boris, the Russian Wolfhound, of Disney’s Lady and the Tramp fame.

the scruffy old stud
with four legs close to the ground -
wisdom’s on his side

if it walks like a goose

If it walks like a goose and talks like a goose it might be a goose.
I was confused because my mother and her friends' talk is loose. 
My brother waddles like one, when he is in their habitat, it is his way.
I stared at the wizened man but did not answer him at all that day.

Then two chubby geese waddled past and he asked “see what I mean?”
The funny thing is, that one of the geese was my brother Gene.
I kept my thoughts to myself and drank down my sweet cherry juice.
But if it walks like and talks like a goose, it is not always a goose.

Heard Wallpaper Peeling

I heard the wallpaper start peeling off the wall in the kitchen.
Garth my pet giraffe must be still be ferociously itch’n.
Penguin waddles up to give me his slanted report.
I ask about the chipmunks – Nancy, Herman and Mort.

They scurry up to show me the tattoos on their tails.
I say, “you can accompany me to dinner if all else fails.”
Not in that posh, stuck up fancy restaurant, Herman tells me.
I would rather be run over by a truck down by the sea.

Herman is pure drama, a stage actor in New York Training.
These pets are getting to be too much, I find them draining.
There is a sick llama who needs a home, Mort happily said.
I rolled my eyes, and laid back down, pretending to go to bed.

Sally Jo

A drab forty something,
mother of six snotty noses,
tie dyed shirt two sizes too small.
Nipples poking through the thin cloth.

Fuzzy pink slippers and yoga pants,
ass like the surface of the moon,
with mountains and craters well defined.
Dirt blond hair with three-inch black roots.

Lights the joint stuck between caked lips,
blows smoke into the space,
separating her from reality.
Out of breath she waddles to the bed. 

When he tells of the goddess,
that took his immaturity,
there’s one thing he never mentions.
The twenty he left on the table.

Body Parts

I left my hands behind miles ago.
My eyes drift 30 feet behind my body.
My heart waddles over hot gravel.
A Highway Dust Angel.
My brain took an Uber. My soul 
Bought by a Buddhist back in Biloxi.

Legs Over Easy

Long luscious legs
Better than eggs
Not too greasy
Legs over easy

Short thin or fat
What's better than that
Some prefer lean
Like legs of a Queen

Smooth or quite hairy
Those are quite scary
Strides glides or waddles
Legs of all models

Legs out of reach 
Legs on a beach
Legs in the air
Legs everywhere

Fifa World Cup 2023

For two weeks, at all hours, I watched FIFA games
Familiarizing myself with all the players' names
But I won't be viewing the World Cup anymore
after the favored U. S. team was unable to score

Too much drama was promoted, so it would seem
over not singing the National Anthem, but I'd deem
their focus was on winning, as I think it should be
and not on patriotic agendas, "My country tis of thee."

A penguin (mascot) waddles so he can't play football
If he had tried, he'd have stumbled and taken a fall
Not once did I hear his name, Tazunis, mentioned
I don't think that slight of him was well intentioned

The U.S. team was defeated by Sweden in overtime
Their goalie, Zecira Musovic, played a game sublime
Time after time her heroic efforts prevented a score
No goals had been made, but the game was not a bore

U.S. women won the first tourney game by one goal
but wouldn't "Do it Again" and lost their favorite role
They didn't play, "Beyond Greatness," not even close
It was time they fly home and to Australia say, "Adios."

Too Much Meat and Bread

she cannot get into clothes anymore
prefers a blue mumu or sweat pants
red meat eater from Iowa
well-fed with carbohydrates
rotund and Rubenesque
waddles into rooms
squat and stocky
overweight
chunky
bulk

What Does He Want

What does he want? Pierre asks Jacques.
A taste of wine?
A bit of brie?
A tiny croissant perhaps?
Jacques guesses come as fast as abc.
This phantom monster of New York opens up his teeth.
The champagne pops, and the cork goes up, and down, and now beneath.
T-rex gulps, satisfied, and waddles away, with a swish and a glide.

The Duck With No Web Feet

This little duck didn't have webbed feet
Other ducks laughed when they'd meet
His mama said, I think it is really neat
He swims and waddles to his own beat

This little duck was named Webless Hank
When others laughed his little heart sank
After all he had no trouble walking on land
His daddy said his swimming was quite grand

You know this little duck could even climb trees
And swing from branches, tail waving in the breeze
He grew up proud with great parents he could thank
No matter how big the pond, he would have never sank

So how this tail ends I'll tell you my feathered friends
When the wind blows, with it you must always learn to bend
No matter how much and loud the other ducks honk and quack
Pay no attention, let it roll like water off a duck's back

Author Eileen Clark 2022

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