It’s not that I didn’t want
to be a wild thing,
It’s not that I didn’t want
to make his heart sing,
but I was just too young
in 1966,
still playing Barbie dolls
who were homeless
and lived with trolls,
and Midge One-Of-Two
transitioned into Ken
because Barbie needed him
to make everything groovy~
like flower power,
bell-bottom jeans
and my first transistor radio.
Inspired by “Wild Thing” as sung by The Troggs
shy and secretive
survival to the fittest
semi-nocturnal
April 16,2022 just counted the syllables
For wild animal Haiku contest by Tania Kitchen
The urge grows
it makes me squat over
traces in the mud,
poke leaf shadows
with a fingernail.
I can ride eventide
and grind the starlight there.
The hair in my ears;
on my back
is recent.
There’s a rainy-day musk
I can slide through.
I sniff tightly closed blooms,
the blue pelt
of a twilit distances.
Under fading gleams
a prowling yen,
as I slip through
the grease
of running shoulder blades.
I am not your wolf or mine.
I am the moons mirror
that follows
your own wild thing.
wild thing
her vacant stare
is deceptive
The wild rose expresses the essence of life and beauty
a sweet blossom atop thorny stems with roots entirely her own
the fragrant lure summons as honey bee makes its approach
Wild Thing
by Rick Rucker
Images of Prim and Proper, to mind, You bring,
But, when we are Alone, You turn into Wild Thing!
Something that I wouldn't miss:
A juicy half-hour Kiss!
Against my body, you do press,
When we break, your hair's a mess!
Your Lovely body, firm, and fit,
Hardly feel it, when you sit,
On my very eager lap,
You often throw away my cap,
To better access my waiting lips,
Thrill me to my finger tips!
We don't live together, true,
But it is Heaven, just to sit with you!
Something soon is going to give,
Us a chance to forever live
In our own lovely place,
With a tablecloth of Irish lace.
Oh, and one thing more,
It must have a Red front door!
I don't know why you want that,
But, to make You happy, I would paint my CAT!
Soon, we will be together, for all Time,
Having so much fun, it should be a Crime!
Honey, you make my Heart SING!
You've earned your nickname, WILD THING!
The fig tree
was our rotunda,
the roots valleys
leading to our kingdom
not fifty feet away
a concrete range
bridged worlds,
and stood silently, sullen
our very own
mountain of doom
fearsome as knights and maids
we traversed cement battlements
I crossed on the Styx,
the other world moved
like a slithering mass of parasites
ever closing in on our seat of power
shimmers of time shivered the river,
as the monster of madness
split the surface
an almighty bellow,
‘get the hell home
for dinner’
my brother,
a Caesar ruled
and was slaughtered
by his own,
me caged and fed
like a wild thing
by mine
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