The goat eats the grass there where it is tied.
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What for? If only the goat can tell.
O! The silly goat could have been a dove
White and meek
Soundless in the journey to air
Dove to another dove
Satisfied from among its likes
The horns could have been feathers
In a bird’s body
Another completing dove could have waited
Only if the silly goat knew
The transfiguration of its feet to claw
Its whiskers to beak
The goat’s life would have been complete
And fulfilled
But this the silly goat will never know
& learn and untie
& solve the crazy knot
That it has never untangled
Never has he learned from all the ages
Of his grass life
The seeds that the dove peck
And keep on its throat down to its guts
Its tummy
The goat stays
In the open field
Preoccupied with grass
And grass alone
Abiding by the rules of his master
Imprisoned in its cage
To the rules of their games
Suffering
But never understands the same
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The impatient person eats goat; the one who hesitates eats beef.
South African proverbs
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The always-hurrying person eats goat, but the one who takes his time eats beef.
When an elephant eats and eats and still cries for more, it is the grass that will get embarrassed.
Burning Down
]from the back of my neck, oh oh oh
Wired a glass jaw, oh oh
Plantation burning your boat is coming in
Strum your jews-harp, youre reeking gin
Running water in a sinking boat
Going under but theyve got your goat
Burning down - my hands are tied my feet are bound
Burning down - cant you see that my hands are bound
Johnny mike is reading in the yard
His storys timely, oh oh oh
What river is it anyway, radio
Not in a boat, in your ear
Running water in a sinking boat
Going under but theyve got your goat
Burning down - my hands are tied my feet are bound
Burning down - cant you see that my hands are bound
You pick your island in the sun
Take your island off hes got a gun
Burning down - my hands are tied my feet are bound
Burning down - cant you see that my hands are bound
Hes cooking in the woods, a brush fire in your neck
Feeling mighty mighty, oh oh oh
You can pick your island in the sun
Take your island off hes got a gun
Running water in a sinking boat
Going under but theyve got your goat
Burning down - my hands are tied my feet are bound
Burning down - cant you see that my hands are bound
song performed by by REM
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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When the big tree falls, the goat eats its leaves.
Emotional Food Chain
Anger eats Balanced
Balanced eats Confusion
Confusion eats Delight
Delight eats Exasperation
Exasperation eats Forgiveness
Forgiveness eats Grief
Grief eats Humor
Humor eats Isolation
Isolation eats Joy
Joy eats Knottiness
Knottiness eats Love
Love eats Moodiness
Moodiness eats Nicety
Nicety eats Outrage
Outrage eats Peace
Peace eats Quick-temperament
Quick-temperament eats Righteousness
Righteousness eats Stupidity
Stupidity eats Trust
Trust eats Unhappiness
Unhappiness eats Vitality
Vitality eats Weariness
Weariness eats X-citement
X-citement eats Yawn
Yawn eats Zest
Zest eats Anger
poem by Champs Ulysses Cabinatan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The heart is like a goat that has to be tied up.
South African proverbs
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The goat
Clouds are in the sky
A goat is tied up with rope
And crying for help
poem by Asif Andalib
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Great people with reputation
Cherish lustre and greatness
as and when the tiger eats meat;
Feels happy and satisfied
as the cattle eats grass grown in wet land;
Men with lower pride feel contented
as and when they eat rice as food;
Great people with reputation will feel pride
by their noble deeds to the community.
poem by V.K. Kanniappan
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Holiday meals
Here's a poem that will get your goat
But my goat ate my poem.
I'll get him for that
He ate all that i wrote.
I wrote such wounderous words
And all he does is burp
It's absurd.
Now all I can do
Is not let him get my goat
The words that I wrote
Were hastey and few
The goat that I had made such a great stew.
Krishna's Meal
Kanha eats in Yasoda's lap.
some he eats, some he drops,
as the ladies of Nandgaon watch,
some he eats and some he puts
in Nanda's mouth,
this joy is beyound recount.
some he eats, some gives to gopas,
butter in his hands, curd in doniyas.
The joy of Yasoda
the three worlds cannot account.
the meal is over, Kanha washes,
for Sur the left-overs count.
poem by Sant Surdas
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Rust eats iron
Rust eats iron.
Separation from wife
eats husband
Contempt by kith and kins
And serving evil master
Eats body by burning silently
Corroding heart and soul body
from within.
Rust eats iron.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Goat Hill
Goat Hill
Walking out the door that man told me to go to hell
My son asked mommy where’s Goat Hill
I said I don’t know son it must be through the valley
My son said mommy lets go there
Up to goat hill
I bet it’s on top of the mountain
I bet there is waterfalls, birds, trees, pretty flowers for all the butterflies and honey bees
I said son if we could I’m sure we would
Most definitely go up to goat hill
I’m not ever going to take you where that man said to go
That place is an internal melting pot
And its way to hot
There’s no mountains with snow on top
No waterfalls trees birds butterflies or honey bees in the place that man said to go
Son I know you are good
Some day together I believe we will find the place called Goat Hill
You found somewhere in your mind
Where life is gentle and Kind
Everyday and every night all the time
Son I bet up on Goat Hill we will only see Gods will being done by the Father and the Son
poem by E.Marie AldrichCreasy
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Man and His Goat
In this gallant democracy
Where endeavours are proven free
A man's love surpasses boundaries
Including interspecies sprees
For underneath a country sun
Lived poor Tommy Michael John
Who was raised in isolation
Taught the trade of agriculture
Quite intelligent but awkward
With a tenant for introversion
He never had a single friend
Unless a tail was it conclusion
There was Elmer the potty pig
Plus Stuart the klutzy rooster
With Matilda the bovine cow
And Pamela the Foxy Goat
And yes she was a foxy gal
With a coat of auburn locks
Elegantly trimmed and arranged
In semblance of a Great Dane
One day they were in the barn
Michael John was feeding her grass
Then she looked in his furtive eyes
And then he saw their souls were tied
It began in simple courtship
Little trips around the county
Legs and hooves alone the pastures
Catching starlight after midnight
They even shared an apple tree
Where the grass was long and green
She would eat her heart away
As he petted her bushy mane
He loves the way she smells like hay
Or a barn in mulch on a rainy day
And when he sees her in the dawn
He knows the purpose in his world
Is milked with carful tenderness
Acquired from active breast
Call it cooperative selection
Otherwise it's a strange conclusion
Now old Tommy Michael John
Is a happier man on earth
He has found something that's special
Which is foreign to some people
Companionship of loyalty
That even shares an H.D. TV
For nothing will come between
A man and his favourite goat
poem by Kevin Patrick
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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If the goat rejects the grass, its belly is full.