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An elephant's tusks are never too heavy for it.
The elephant never gets tired of carrying its tusks.
An elephant never gets tired of supporting its tusks.
An elephant can never fail to carry its tusks.
And Then The Beauty Dies
And then the Beauty dies
And goes where no one knows
And all the life remains
Hidden as it was -
And then the Beauty dies
And all forever lost
Remembrance too surprised
To no longer still remain-
And then the Beauty dies
And pain and poignant love
Remain for those behind
The beauty in their mind. -
And then the Beauty dies
And then the Beauty dies.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Paper Mache, Cabbages & Kings
Na na na na na na na na na
Paper mache and telegraph poles
Things go dead in the night
Make enough noise to make enough noise
To make you want to jump with fright
Elephant's tusks and autograph books ,people you don't meet
Haven't got a bed to lay my head , shoes to fit my feet
Don't be scared
You're better off then nothing
You're answering to no one
Paper mache
Paper mache and telegraph poles
Thing go dead in the night
Make enough noise to make enough noise
To make you want to jump with fright
Elephant's tusks and autograph books, people you don't meet
Haven't got a bed to lay my head, shoes to fit my feet
Don't be scared
You're better off then nothing
You're answering to no one
Paper mache
All of a sudden it happened
When you did what you said you'd do
And you broke my heart in two
Like paper mache
All of a sudden it happened, oh...
You came into my life
Like paper mache you broke my heart
Like paper mache, paper mache
Like paper mache
Paper mache and telegraph poles
Things go dead in the night
Make enough noise to make enough noise
To make you wanna jump with fright
Elephant's tusks and autograph books
People you don't meet
La la la la la la la la la la la la la la
Jimmy had a bomb and the bomb went bang
Jimmy was everywhere
Jimmy had a bomb and the bomb went bang
Jimmy was everywhere
(repeat last two lines and fade out)
song performed by by Bee Gees
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Waa
Rat was
Play for
Elephant...
Elephant also play
for rat...
Suddenley
Angry mood
Elephant
Told rat
'Go to play for cat'
Ok...
Ok..
Told the rat bite
The elephant leg
And run to run...
With smile...smile...
Very soory
Elephant was cry
With lough for rat...!
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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It is sad when the elephant dies, but the whole tribe can feed on it.
Close Encounter
And there he was, like mercury,
Dressed in his leathered skin,
The elephant that looked at me
And knew that he would win!
While I stood still with mounting dread
And in one of those jams,
His tusks were pointing dead ahead!
Just like battering rams!
I could run left, I could run right,
A nearby tree to climb,
Then hold on tight with all my might
As we two passed the time...
Then suddenly he walked away!
He left me standing still...
Perhaps I'd live another day,
Though right then I felt ill...
I gulped and walked away real slow...
Quite gingerly at first,
Then scarpered off, now on the go
And running at full burst!
The elephant let out a roar!
He bellowed loud and clear!
I kept on running all the more,
Like you would, too, my dear!
Denis Martindale, copyright, July 2010.
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Close Encounter'.
More Stephen Gayford poems here:
denis-martindale-dot-blogspot.com
poem by Denis Martindale
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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For example, after developing a sound similar to an elephant trumpeting, I wrote the song Elephant Talk which gave my elephant sound an appropriate place to live.
quote by Adrian Belew
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Red Man with the Black Shadow
The Red Man with the Black Shadow
by Alex Lewis
The Red Man wore a black shadow.
As he grew high, he sunk low.
The Red Man is not a man at all.
He is as short as he is tall.
An elephant is the Red Man.
It is less than greater than.
The elephant is mad because he is tame.
The Red Man is gone, but the shadow will remain.
poem by Alex Lewis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Joker...
there is this little boy
an attraction in the circus
because he does not
have experience
yet...i mean the showmanship
is innocence, and those
that surround him
who want to
say, they want to help him
become like them
contortionists, clowns,
magicians, elephant men,
frog ladies,
jumpers, etc... i am not
really familiar with their names
and what they do
one day, the contortionist
ask him to imitate him
to get rid of his bones
and bend like some
water
fluid and painless
and the boy
does what he is told
he dies
bones crack and
eyes still seeing
pain and terror
looking to the
sky for
help...
he is innocence gone
but the show must go on
that is what they say
and the clown who watches
what the boy does
and how he dies
you bet, continues laughing.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Incubus
Who wants a nice white elephant,
Quite fit in wind and limb?
An ornament for any gent
Who can find use for him.
It won't pay us to kill the cuss;
But we can't afford his keep.
Who wants a nice white elephant?
We'll sell or lease him cheap.
Who wants a nice white elephant?
He'd make a lovely pet.
In rich, fat days we loved his way,
But in these times of fret
He's sort of grown too big for us
To fondle, groom and feed.
Who wants a fine white elephant
Of most exclusive breed?
Who wants a nice white elephant?
Of noble lineage he.
His breed is by State Jealousy
Out of Prosperity.
The rich years thro' he grew and grew,
And, ah, we loved him so.
But we can't afford his bed and board,
And we'd like to let him go.
Who'll buy a nice white elephant?
No decent bid refused.
We love him yet, altho' our pet
Has often been abused.
But come on, gents, walk up, walk up.
Our funds, alas, are scant.
Altho' we once were sold a pup
Who'll buy an elephant?
poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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Love never dies a natural death. It dies because we don't know how to replenish it's source. It dies of blindness and errors and betrayals. It dies of illness and wounds it dies of weariness, of witherings, of tarnishings.
Love never dies a natural death. It dies because we don't know how to replenish it's source. It dies of blindness and errors and betrayals. It dies of illness and wounds; it dies of weariness, of witherings, of tarnishings.
On The Move
The elephant was on the move,
Vivaciously, of course,
As if he had something to prove,
A legend to enforce.
With ears as big as suitcases
And tusks like scimitars,
He looked fierce at all those faces
That stared from jeeps and cars.
The tourists on safari
Could scarce believe their eyes...
This giant was a sight to see...
So ancient and so wise...
Their cameras clicked and clicked again,
As if a strategem,
To overcome their fears right then,
As he looked down on them.
A sudden move and he would charge,
Unchanged, untamed, born wild.
A raging bull, unleashed, at large -
He cared not if they smiled...
He was no dog that they could pet,
No gentle pussycat...
For he could make a cool man sweat
And make a brave man scat!
I've seen him run and then gain speed,
I've felt the trembling earth
And though you may think I'm a weed,
I ran for all I'm worth!
I left my camera somewhere...
It fell upon the ground...
God heard me pray the fastest prayer
Or I'd be Heaven-bound!
I've kept my distance from that day
And that's the Gospel Truth!
Keep out of the elephant's way,
Each time he's on the move!
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'On The Move'.
poem by Denis Martindale
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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