Dictators ride to and fro upon tigers which they dare not dismount. And the tigers are getting hungry.
quote by Winston Churchill
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Dictators ride to and fro upon tigers which they dare not dismount.
Dark Forests
Dark forests...Northern...Sourthern Mountains,
Fierce tigers circle around the villages in broad daylight.
...To The red dawn of twilight
The skies shine bright
Protecting what is theirs
In the magic of the night
The tigers roam everywhere taking lives for food.
The Majesty of the tigers power,
The prey dare not make a sound.
The new kin tiger sprout every year
In the valleys low.
Male and female tigers come up and down the mountains in large groups.
There is a village near the tigers’ dens in the valley,
Where tigers often come and eat the villagers’ brown calves.
Rich young men dare not shoot the arrows at the tigers.
The Majesty of the Tiger lives forever
The Majesty of the Tiger
They only pretend to check for the tigers’ tracks in the forests.
poem by Peter LeBuhn
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Silent Vigil
White tigers are conspicuous,
They stand out from the crowd!
So not to be ridiculous,
They're silent and not loud...
That's why they stare and sit and stare
Or lay and stare awhile...
So other beasties aren't aware
Of such a high profile...
White tigers can get bleary-eyed
If they lounge there too long
And yet take such things in their stride,
Although they know it's wrong...
To compensate, they walk about,
To stretch their legs and such,
Then they lie down, with paws stretched out,
But then, they don't do much...
White tigers have been known to roar,
Then watch the others run!
White tigers snigger, laugh, guffaw,
When things like that are done!
Their silent vigils that were here
Soon disappear, God knows...
It makes their day to instil fear,
The naughty so-and-sos!
poem by Denis Martindale
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Follow The Leader
Two tigers traipsed the river's edge,
The leader heard a noise...
When entrusted with this knowledge,
Both tigers had no choice...
Two tigers traipsed beneath the sun
With one cold thought in mind,
Two heads much better than the one,
With so much strength combined...
In silent mode, they took their time,
Each stealthful step so slow...
While undetected, each new crime
Meant victims sensed no foe...
Suffice to say, their moment came,
The frantic prey ran wild,
The tigers chased like burning flame,
No longer meek and mild...
Though it didn't happen often,
The tigers had to pause...
For failure dogged them once again,
Their prey escaped their claws...
The starving tigers felt dismay,
The next meal had to wait...
With luck, they'd last another day
With cause to celebrate...
Denis Martindale, copyright, December 2011.
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Follow The Leader'.
More Stephen Gayford poems here:
denis-martindale-dot-blogspot-dot-com
poem by Denis Martindale
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Cheek To Cheek
Two tigers wandered to and fro,
Like restless tigers do,
Until they chose to take things slow
Just like the chosen few...
Let others pounce and leap for joy,
Explore for all they're worth,
But these two tigers played it coy
And settled on the earth...
Thus side-by-side and cheek-to-cheek
They nestled 'neath the sun,
Content merely to pause and peek
At others having fun...
As if to say, 'You go for it!
We'll stay here keeping guard...
Conserve your strength, keep fighting fit,
Just don't you play too hard! '
While others every joy embrace
As if Hell-bent on thrills,
Some tigers simply spend their days,
Like statues watching hills...
They look like bookends on the shelves,
Now rooted to the spot!
Wise tigers learn to pace themselves!
That sun is too darned hot!
Denis Martindale, copyright, April 2011.
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Cheek To Cheek'.
More Stephen Gayford poems here:
denis-martindale-dot-blogspot-dot-com
poem by Denis Martindale
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Tissue Tigers (The Arguers)
I shout this,
You shout that,
The clouds are coming over looking awful black.
Its all hot air.
You say go,
I say stay,
Clear blue sky goes sheffield grey.
Its all hot air.
Ive grown immune to your claws,
Pussycat, I know...
All your threats are tissue tigers,
Crawling across the table to me.
All your threats are tissue tigers,
Ripping em up is easy for me now.
I shout this,
You shout that,
An eye for heart and a tit for a tat.
You easy tear.
Think your stripes,
Are yellow and black,
I can only see the yellow one down your back,
You easy tear.
Ive grown immune to your claws,
Pussycat, I know...
All your threats are tissue tigers,
Crawling across the table to me.
All your threats are tissue tigers,
Ripping em up is easy for me now.
We argue all life long,
Youd swear that black was wrong,
Throw tantrums like queen kong,
Ive trapped you in my song.
All your threats are tissue tigers,
Crawling across the table to me.
All your threats are tissue tigers,
Ripping em up is easy for me now.
song performed by by Xtc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Tissue Tigers
I shout this,
You shout that,
The clouds are coming over looking awful black.
It's all hot air.
You say go,
I say stay,
Clear blue sky goes sheffield grey.
It's all hot air.
I've grown immune to your claws,
Pussycat, i know...
All your threats are tissue tigers,
Crawling across the table to me.
All your threats are tissue tigers,
Ripping 'em up is easy for me now.
I shout this,
You shout that,
An eye for heart and a tit for a tat.
You easy tear.
Think your stripes,
Are yellow and black,
I can only see the yellow one down your back,
You easy tear.
I've grown immune to your claws,
Pussycat, i know...
All your threats are tissue tigers,
Crawling across the table to me.
All your threats are tissue tigers,
Ripping 'em up is easy for me now.
We argue all life long,
You'd swear that black was wrong,
Throw tantrums like queen kong,
I've trapped you in my song.
All your threats are tissue tigers,
Crawling across the table to me.
All your threats are tissue tigers,
Ripping 'em up is easy for me now.
song performed by by Xtc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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Little Black Sambo
Little Black Sambo
Dance Sambo Dance!
You knoe you are a pancake!
The little black sambo ran around the tigers,
until they blended into batter.
Ewe see it does it matters.
Dance Sambo Dance!
You knoe you are a pancake!
If you even make just one mistake,
the tigers they will eat you.
Dance Sambo Dance!
You knoe you are a pancake!
Unless you can out race them,
the tigers are so fast.
We would rather that you eat them.
Dance Sambo Dance!
Prance and add the butter to the better batter there.
What could also be much better so much neater.
Dance Sambo Dance!
The tigers are just pancakes.Sambo is the eater.
Sambo Danced.
poem by Charles Hice
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For Jane
225 days under grass
and you know more than I.
they have long taken your blood,
you are a dry stick in a basket.
is this how it works?
in this room
the hours of love
still make shadows.
when you left
you took almost
everything.
I kneel in the nights
before tigers
that will not let me be.
what you were
will not happen again.
the tigers have found me
and I do not care.
poem by Charles Bukowski
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The Light In The Tigers Eyes
Sometime I cannot imagine the difference
Between you and the blackest night
You know those nights when only tigers stalk
And lie waiting for the sound of your breath
The faintest reflecting backlight is in their eyes
So I can only say one thing in your defence
You have laid with tigers
You have their scent
You know how they stalk and what they sense
I do not
And so I am terrified to lay in the thicket
And wait
---------
Have you seen a tigers foot
Stare at it soft and silent
Able to tread with no sound
On the leaf strewn floor of its jungleI
It can kill quickly without fuss and song
Except of course for its victims
Noises of dying
On a dark night I am scared
Of you in the same way
You with that tigers breath
And stealth that terrifies me so
Please I will beg
Please don't
---------
Growls snarls and ferocity
Are just conversation
To you and the tiger
Your cigar at the end of dinner
Your confidence in terrifying
The bridle you have on me
My fear is the peg
Your look is the rope
Attached to my collar
Staking me out
To wait
In the silenced black night
To wait
For you and the tiger
To pounce
poem by Geoffrey Fafard
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Forest Glade
White tigers like to rest and so
They find a gentle spot
And there, they stay, just laying low,
As they like that a lot.
As if their strength of great renown
Had disappeared from view,
They stretch their paws, their frowns droop down
And muscles relax, too.
White tigers get their lazy moods,
The wise do not disturb.
You can't tempt them with juicy foods,
For appetites they curb.
They know it's time they should be still,
So why do other things?
There's nothing like the silent thrill
That warm contentment brings
White tigers, please leave them alone,
Don't try to chase them off.
Especially not the ones full grown
That feel they've had enough.
Just live and let live, give them space.
Don't say you're unafraid!
Let them enjoy their gentle pace
Within the forest glade.
poem by Denis Martindale
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Snow Tigers
The tigers nestled in the snow,
Oblivious to cold,
Content within the twilight glow,
So wondrous to behold...
With light enough to take their ease,
Before the night set in
And grant the cubs a sense of peace
Among their kith and kin...
United in their Shangri-La,
The royal family
Reflected how they'd come so far,
This very night to see...
The stars a distant twisting scroll,
The moon a crescent curl,
A single cloud out on patrol,
A pale white circling pearl...
With tigers' eyes as witnesses
As if to testify,
There was joy in all God blesses
On Earth and in the sky...
Snow tigers felt this joy inside
With every heartbeat made.
If they could roam the whole world wide,
Their joy would never fade...
Denis Martindale, copyright, October 2012.
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Snow Tigers'.
More Stephen Gayford poems here:
denis-martindale-dot-blogspot-dot-com
poem by Denis Martindale
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Intangible Tigers
There's a moral in this: tho' I own that the preaching
Of moral and maxim in season and out
Grows stale; yet these days of depressions far-reaching
Demand any means to put worry to rout.
So in that menagerie now populated
By home-coming chickens and wolves upon mats
Consider, when finally doubt's dissipated
How often our tigers turn out to be cats.
Three-fourths of our troubles some Frenchman has told us,
But seldom occur. Tho' the ills of the mind
Loom forth as fierce tigers while doubts yet unfold us,
They turn into cats once we've put them behind.
How often the dread of some darkened tomorrow
Has ruined today; till, at Time's urgent call,
Tomorrow's false fears become yester's small sorrow
Innocuous cats, and not tigers at all.
So, here is the moral - just take it or leave it.
It doesn't much matter, you'll scorn it, no doubt.
Yet here is a truth and, if men don't receive it
I've still done my duty in pointing it out.
False troubles, false tigers engender false fearing;
So use the grey matter close under your hat
And, as you fare forth thro' life's dark forests peering,
Go armed against tigers - but still expect cats.
poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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White Haven
Even white tigers have to bathe
Though they're as white as snow,
That's why an hour they will save
For streams that overflow...
On winsome days, when winds are calm
And sunlight shines above,
White tigers will not hunt or harm
While their hearts beat with love...
The waters let white tigers chill
Like little lambs at play..
A haven here that can instill
A reason to delay...
Life isn't always running round
So frantic in the sun,
Sometimes the simple things astound,
When nothing much gets done.
This was that time, when time relaxed,
When tiny sounds were heard...
When muscles were no longer taxed
And all white tigers purred...
Who knows how long these cats survive?
This century? No more?
Be glad today that they're alive...
For no-one can be sure...
Denis Martindale, copyright, July 2010.
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'White Haven'.
More Stephen Gayford poems here:
denis-martindale-dot-blogspot.com
poem by Denis Martindale
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Save the deer
Tigers are there; deer are there.
Tigers eat deer and deer exist.
Guilt is the tiger and adultery, the deer.
Adultery will not go extinct.
25.03.2000, Palakkad
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Man is the culprit
Hares and deer produce in multitudes
To withstand onslaught of lions and tigers
Grass and weeds abound much more
To surpass onslaught of hares and deer
Lions and tigers beget not many.
The cycle is in perfect harmony.
Man is adamant to disturb the balance.
5.11.2000, Pmdi
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Jim Corbett
Jim Corbett great stories of maneaters told
For some tigers become maneaters when they grow old
For a frail or injured tiger a Human Being is easier prey
But for killing a Human a tiger with his or her life has to pay.
To a tiger a Human Being is something it can eat
As a tiger is a meat eater so it needs meat
A Human Being or a buffalo to him the same
It kills because it has to without remorse or shame.
Jim Corbett who killed many a maneater has a park in India named in his name
And his stories of hunting maneaters they brought him great fame
But tigers only kill because they have a need to
And the tiger to it's nature is only being true.
Jim Corbett wrote of man eating tigers and of how he tracked them down
And his stories have earned him a place in renown
But for the most part a tiger has to be either very old or ill
Before a Human Being it will bother to kill.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Chinese New Year (Tiger Year Living Tiger Life)
When a tiger kills a man
it is called ferocity
without any mercy.
When a man kills a tiger
it is called hunting
in which he takes pride and boasting.
For Chinese people, tiger symbolises luck.
Right! the tiger products bring a big buck.
Chinese people think the tiger year will prosper.
But the tigers will have more suffer.
The number of tiger is dwindling,
they are near extinction.
Leave the Tigers alone in the Wood,
so that they can have many tigresses in good mood.
Brothers In Arms
Two young tigers stood side-by-side,
Facing the world assured...
With both their jaws now open wide,
With pride, the tigers roared!
The hunters snarled like angry kings
To all in their domain,
As if the rest were underlings
They must remind again...
They shared a sense of destiny,
Born free and yet what for?
To take their part in history!
To fill the world with awe!
To stand united, unafraid,
If challenged, not to fail.
Like living legends, undismayed,
Determined to prevail!
Like champions, to stand their ground,
Defiant to the end...
Two young tigers, the best around
And each the other's friend...
Brothers in arms and warriors,
Tenacious day and night,
Miraculous and glorious,
Both valiant inside.
Two sets of eyes, two sets of ears...
Two hearts that beat as one...
Their loyalty outlasts the years,
Through all that must be done...
Life's sometimes good, life's sometimes bad,
Life's sometimes in-between...
For them, the future's ironclad...
If we don't intervene...
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Brothers In Arms'.
poem by Denis Martindale
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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