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Leopards at Knole
Leopards on the gable-ends,
Leopards on the painted stair,
Stiff the blazoned shield they bear,
Or and gules, a bend of vair,
Leopards on the gable-ends,
Leopards everywhere.
Guard and vigil in the night
While the ancient house is sleeping
They three hundred years are keeping,
Nightly from their stations leaping,
Shadows black in moonlight bright,
Roof to gable creeping.
Rigid when the day returns,
Up aloft in sun or rain
Leopards at their posts again
Watch the shifting pageant's train;
And their jewelled colour burns
In the window-pane.
Often on the painted stair,
As I passed abstractedly,
Velvet footsteps, two and three,
Padded gravely after me.
- There was nothing, nothing there,
Nothing there to see.
poem by Victoria Sackville-West
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The Whale
The Whale is found in seas and oceans,
Indulging there in fishlike motions,
But Science shows that Whales are mammals,
Like Jersey cows, and goats, and camels.
When undisturbed, the Whale will browse
Like camels, goats, and Jersey cows,
On food that satisfies its tongue,
Thus making milk to feed its young.
Asking no costly hay and oats,
Like camels, Jersey cows, and goats,
The Whale, prolific milk producer,
Should be our cheapest lactic juicer.
Our milk should all come from the sea,
But who, I ask, would want to be—
And here the proposition fails—
The milkmaid to a herd of Whales?
poem by Ellis Parker Butler
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Trumpet in a herd of elephants; crow in the company of cocks; bleat in a flock of goats.
Blow your horn in a herd of elephants; crow in the company of cockerels; bleat in a flock of goats.
On A Painting By Patient B Of The Independence State Hospital For The Insane
1
These seven houses have learned to face one another,
But not at the expected angles. Those silly brown lumps,
That are probably meant for hills and not other houses,
After ages of being themselves, though naturally slow,
Are learning to be exclusive without offending.
The arches and entrances (down to the right out of sight)
Have mastered the lesson of remaining closed.
And even the skies keep a certain understandable distance,
For these are the houses of the very rich.
2
One sees their children playing with leopards, tamed
At great cost, or perhaps it is only other children,
For none of these objects is anything more than a spot,
And perhaps there are not any children but only leopards
Playing with leopards, and perhaps there are only the spots.
And the little maids that hang from the windows like tongues,
Calling the children in, admiring the leopards,
Are the dashes a child might represent motion by means of,
Or dazzlement possibly, the brilliance of solid-gold houses.
3
The clouds resemble those empty balloons in cartoons
Which approximate silence. These clouds, if clouds they are
(And not the smoke from the seven aspiring chimneys),
The more one studies them the more it appears
They too have expressions. One might almost say
They have their habits, their wrong opinions, that their
Impassivity masks an essentially lovable foolishness,
And they will be given names by those who live under them
Not public like mountains’ but private like companions’.
poem by Donald Justice
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Evening
Children astray to their mothers, and goats to the herd,
Sheep to the shepherd, through twilight the wings of the bird,
All things that morning has scattered with fingers of gold,
All things thou bringest, O Evening! at last to the fold.
CANADIANS DON'T HAVE TO VOTE Apr 12th,2011
Canadians will get what we deserve because only a few vote,
Politicians inclined to view us as a herd of goats,
As they hide like aristocrats in Ottawa and tax and spend,
Or travel the world with a planeload of family and their friends.
Did someone say that our system of government can’t be changed?
Binding referendums or death-with-dignity never arranged,
Where’s the leadership to get us out of the present mess?
Surely someone has some guts somewhere in all our distress.
I’d like to live as long as possible and then plan my death,
No politician has come up with a better plan than that yet,
They each have their own party agenda and they think it’s great,
Nothing outside of their party agenda is up for debate.
April 12th,2011
poem by James Bredin
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Mountain Myth
Snow leopards once were thought as myths, ghostly apparitions,
Upon the mountains and on cliffs, mostly superstitions.
Then photographs so quickly proved what first was hard to see -
The way they laid, the way they moved, no more a mystery.
Yet when I look, there's still a part that takes my breath away,
A majesty that strikes my heart, no matter, come what may.
For beauty still affects my soul, my spirit and my mind,
Such that it swiftly takes control, as if a spell to bind.
Cat lovers know their soft embrace, that purring noise they make.
No other creature takes their place, of that, there's no mistake.
Imagine, then, if leopards, too, befriended Man as well,
With purring noise said, 'I love you! ' What tales we each could tell.
When Adam walked upon the Earth, with Eve right by his side,
The animals all knew their worth, each owned a sense of pride,
Each walked in peace, it all made sense, till sin and then the Fall.
Alas, we all know violence... its bitter taste is gall.
Snow leopards raise their families and do the best they can.
All creatures long to live in peace, yet none strives more than Man.
More Stephen Gayford poems here:
denis-martindale-dot-blogspot-dot-com
poem by Denis Martindale
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The milk of black goats and white goats is all the same.
Wild Goats
Rock of escaping goats,
Your own eyes have seen this day;
But understand and perceive the muse of my love.
From evil doers comes evil deeds,
But i will pay homage to the things which are right;
And like the crags of the wild goats.
Give me a special blessing and let me love you,
Give me a special love and let me guide you,
Give me a special care and let me be with you always;
And she became the trap for him who was asleep.
On the crag of the wild goats,
Do love yourself first before loving me;
For you can't love others by hating yourself.
Rock of escaping goats,
I am a poor man and little known by you;
But my mind is faster than the bullets of war!
To the son-in-law of the king,
And to the daughter-in-law of the queen;
This is the time that i am free from war,
And like the rock of escaping goats.
Whose son is this boy?
Whose daughter is this girl?
Whose husband is this man?
Whose wife is this woman?
On the cage of the wild goast to take a rest;
But this is the day that Yahweh spoke of.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Tigers And Goats
Tigers and goats,
And the tigers ate up the goats;
But they will get the signals when the church bell rings,
And like Medo-Persia, Greece and Rome!
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Mountain Splendour
Snow leopards look at snow all day!
It's here, there, everywhere!
It hardly ever goes away!
It's white beyond compare!
It's dazzling white, it's total white,
It really, really is!
It's safe to say that it's too bright!
It's not something they'd miss...
Snow leopards sit the whole day long
On snow, snow, snow, snow, snow...
It's sometimes nice, don't get me wrong,
But doesn't that stuff glow! ?
It's freezing cold, no good at all...
And bores them all to tears...
They hate it when new snowflakes fall
And tickle both their ears!
Snow leopards wait for food to eat...
They wait, wait, wait, wait, wait...
They take things slow, they tap their feet...
And think life's just great!
They can't hum tunes like humans do...
Remembering each rhyme...
They just sit down, enjoy the view...
And... while... away... the... time...
Denis Martindale, copyright, November 2010.
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Mountain Splendour II'.
More Stephen Gayford poems here:
denis-martindale-dot-blogspot-dot-com
poem by Denis Martindale
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Collective fear stimulates herd instinct, and tends to produce ferocity toward those who are not regarded as members of the herd.
quote by Bertrand Russell
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Goats
He sends prophets
For every ages and for every nations
You can not deny of having His messages
And He made each and every prophet
a shepherd in their early life
with a definite purpose
as prophets suppose to guide those
who are worse than the goats
push them ahead
they will pull you back
if you pull them back
they will drag you ahead
basic characteristics of goats.
So He sends shepherds in every age and for each nations
To guide us to reach the definite destination
To protect us from evils
But we never learn
And behave like goats..
poem by Abdul Wahab
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What's in a Group Name
Why are fish uneducated
When they frequently go to school
If shoal we call a group of fish,
Sometimes there's no fish in a shoal
Starfish, silverfish, cuttlefish
Under what grouping shall they fall
A group of apes shrewdness we call
But they're not shrewd, no, not at all
How to measusre a leopards' leap
Is it by dozen or by feet?
There's one thing common in between
The tiny legumes and the whales
The little legumes can make a pod
The leviathans also can
A group of bears can make a sloth
But many sloths can't make a bear
Herons and bitterns make a siege
Though enemy they do not have
A group of cattle is called a herd
A herd of swan, crane and curlew?
A funny thing, but that I've heard
Not only geese can make a skein
But also thread, silk, wool and yarn
A skein of thread up in the air
Is still a skein, no matter where
A skein of geese high up above
Becomes a gaggle when they land
Why do Platipi make a pile
When they can't even make a fire
Or whenever they make a pile
On top each other do not climb
A group of wildfowl I starved
With or without food they are plump
They said the choughs made chatterings
But I did not hear anything
The rooks are birds so wonderful
They make buildings without a tool
But the name rook is a misnomer
Gambler nor cheats, they are neither
Snipes in a walk that I have seen
Were not on foot but in the air
poem by Pacific Hernandez
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Hyperboles and Such
A bubble floats,
Will pass on by,
The cows and goats
Begin to cry.
The balloon falls dead.
The whip cracks dawn.
The frog prince hopes.
The jungle kings yawn.
Until then, the till now plows.
And earth now weeps for goats and cows.
poem by Jesse Swedlund
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Rainforest Phantoms
The leopards listen to each noise
Of their surrounding sounds...
On steadfast feet they gently poise,
Resisting fearful bounds.
Perhaps it isn't time to run,
Like cowards fearing pain,
Or just like girls who love the sun,
Yet flee from falling rain...
The leopards like the spot they've seen,
It suits them to a tee...
They'll stay till others intervene,
Like phantoms on their tree...
The forest has its moody times,
Its fierce and frantic days,
Its pleasant passing sunny climes
And melting dew-dropped phase...
The sun shines through the trees above,
The clouds go gliding by...
And soon the moon will shine with love,
To grace the midnight sky...
The leopards lack for nothing now,
True friends in harmony...
Receiving what the Fates allow,
Like phantoms, fancy free...
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Rainforest Phantoms'.
Consider the UK Sky Digital Rainforest Rescue
charity appeal found on the UK sky-dot-com as
this explains how losing the rain forests destroys
the lives of those humans, animals and plants
in the name of progress for some, but not for all.
poem by Denis Martindale
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Free men cannot start a war, but once it is started, they can fight on in defeat. Herd men, followers of a leader, cannot do that, and so it is always the herd men who win battles and the free men who win wars.
John Steinbeck in The Moon is Down
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Society of Grazing Sheep
The herd meanders, searching for the green
Pastures that hide past distant mountaintops.
They're a society of grazing sheep.
The herd looks down, ignoring what they've seen.
They're too busy chewing grass to stop.
They're a society of grazing sheep.
The herd wanders only to convene
In the pursuit of inhaling more crops.
They're a society of grazing sheep.
They don't yet realize that hungry eyes
Guide them—that wolves are hiding in disguise.
They're a society of grazing sheep.
poem by Tim Stensloff
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Dealing With Bullies
The lion picks out his gazelle for the kill,
As the herd stands around and watches.
'Well, he picked the weakest one I guess.'
The pack of hyenas pick out the Zebra to dissect,
As the rest of the herd stands around and watches.
'Well, she didn't really fit in to our group.'
The tiger picks out a weak, young water buffalo.
As the rest of he herd of buffalo approach the tiger.
' Well, we've had enough, they attack him.'
With tail in hand, he flees for his life!
poem by Barry A. Lanier
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