Patience (Naani)
Eyes fixed steady
Ears marked for slightest sound
Nostrils catching all scent of prey
As cat claws strike the poor mouse.
poem by Cynthia Buhain-Baello
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The Rat and the Owl
A rat is moving on the ground;
It searches for something to eat;
’Tis night and it must quickly find
Some food or else, it must sure starve!
A large owl stands with two large eyes;
It turns its neck to scan the ground;
It strains its eyes to catch a prey,
And sees a rat shuffling across!
Both search for food in frantic ways;
Both need to eat to stay alive;
The owl is like a ghost at night;
Its large eyes contrast rat’s small ones!
The owl is predator for rat;
The rat is prey for owl at night;
The owl is sure to pin the rat,
And death is sure for the latter!
The rat moves on unwarily!
It nears the owl innocently;
It does not know that death is near;
Its mind is bent on searching food!
The owl is watching rat’s movements;
The prey is rather small in size;
It tries to keep the rat within
Its visual fields, and take a strike!
The rat is unaware of owl;
It has not sniffed the danger near;
With nostrils engrossed in food-search,
It scurries to and fro for long!
The owl is planning when to swoop;
An opportune moment must come;
The rat must take a moment’s rest;
The owl’s claws take the rat to nest!
The predator is smart and swift;
The prey will certainly get caught;
There is a small chance to escape;
But, predator must make the fault!
Both owl and rat must eat to live;
The rat is prey for owl always;
The rat can still avoid its death;
It must respect the owl’s beak-might!
In life, we play with dangers oft;
We know that fire surely burns;
We walk into the ‘jaws of death’!
We take some risks that bring us death!
But being careful is a must;
We cannot risk our precious life;
Lurk dangers in our environs;
The thread of life could get cut fast!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 7-21-2008
poem by John Celes
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Ah, Winter!
chill breeze
blowing into
nose eyes n ears
clogged nostrils
watery eyes
choked breathing
ah, but the denuded
trees bearing
bunches of flowers
at each stem
purple orange
white yellows
feasting eyes
through a veil
of watering eyes
colors spraying
perfume forced into
blocked nostrils
chilled winds
pouring dulcet
winter notes
into dumb ears
lungs fail to draw
full cycle of breath!
ah, winter
pleasantly chilling
ah, winter...!
aaachoooooooooooo!
poem by Indira Babbellapati
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Smoke Came Out
His breath kindles coal and his mouth shoot out flames,
And smoke came out of his nostrils;
But my ears have heard of you and now my eyes do see you!
So try to fill my mouth with the laughter of your love.
Glide by the boats of reeds and you came to me,
For i am now considered guilty for loving you;
But i am innocent to your love and of your muse,
And like the eagles swooping on their prey at last.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Queen of the Jungle
My ears prick at the slightest sound,
and my eyes watch for any movement,
as Queen of the Jungle, I proudly wear my crown.
I roar like the rumble of thunder,
a warning, the black panther's on the hunt,
there is no mercy for you,
if my paw you find yourself under.
02/01/06.
A Hunter
in the forest of life
a hunter kept searching
for a prey to stalk
and salt for a meal or two.
stealthily he moved
afraid of dry leaves underfoot
eyes fixed on a prey.
lo! without warning
the prey's image got blurred.
disappointed he trudged
only to meet a similar fate
home bound he trekked
a man bitter at fate
yet no one promised anything.
poem by Kelvin Karani
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Vultures!
Vultures not aware that they are torturers,
Eagle may assume that they are simple predators,
Circling above the ground, enjoying the breezy wind,
looking down with deep eyes only for one thing.
When their prey is spotted, the concentration get centered,
Eyes on that prey, the thought on that prey,
Wings stop to swing before a forceful delay,
Legs, claws and the nails just land on that display.
Vultures are there in you and I,
When the business man looks for the business,
When the doctors wait for the patients,
When the lawyers wait for the clients,
When the leaders wait for the votes,
Vultures are everywhere in them, you and I.
poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
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Slow And Steady (Based on the Tortoise and the Hare)
As usual an argument
An argument arose
In the poppy field
Next to the red rose
It was between the mouse and the cat
(No worse enemies existed than that!)
In the end they had a bet
Whoever won, he would get
The poppy field for his own to live in
While the one who lost would be given
"Exile, banished from here forever! "
Said the cat (who really was very clever.)
The mouse thought: "What nonsense!
But it'll be ME who'll win
And that cat will have to live
In the garbage bins! "
But before the mouse could get a word out,
The cat who had been prancing about
Cleared his throat, "I declare!
The competition shall be judged by the hare.
We are going to have a magnificent race,
Poor mousie won't be able to keep up the pace! "
There mouse stood, flabbergasted as ever!
Really, that cat, was sly and clever,
He knew mouse couldn't run at all!
He'd just trip over his tail and fall!
But (though worried he was) he had to do it,
Yes, mouse had to go and prove it,
He would run faster than any cat,
He would run like the wind and knock- them- flat!
The next day dawned, pearly and white,
But the poor mouse was pale with fright!
As he stood in his place
Ready for the race
The cat yawned, as if bored with all this!
When the starting goose gave a hiss,
"Ready, set, GO! "Shouted the hare aloud
The cat ran fast, leaving behind a cloud
Of dust, and the mouse ran as fast as he could
"I'll win this race! I'd do anything to, I would! "
As the cat ran ahead he couldn't help but think:
"There's no way that the mouse can pass me! "
I got ahead in an eye's blink!
Why don't I settle down for a nap?
I have to run only one more lap,
I can rest my eyes for just a little while,
Mouse probably hasn't even run half a mile!
There don't seem to be any chances
Of mousie passing me, I'll win, I'll win! "
And he made quite a din.
The cat settled down in the shade,
Of a tree in a peaceful glade.
He slept soundly, till the mouse had gone on ahead
While the cat was snoozing on his primrose bed!
When the cat finally rose, it was just too late!
And though he ran fast (in a bedraggled state.)
He just couldn't make it, the mouse had got the lead
And crossed the finish line (leaving the cat in defeat! !)
The mouse had won, he'd proved Cat wrong,
Who walked away, singing a mournful song:
"I was boastful and full of myself, it's true
And now I've lost the race, I don't know what to do!
I'm sorry that I looked at mouse with scorn! "
And the cat traipsed by, looking forlorn.
" Dear Cat, you're looking blue, "
Said the mouse, "I feel sorry for you.
How about we divide the Poppy field
Between us, one half for me, the other for you? "
And of course the cat agreed!
He'd learned a lesson indeed!
"Slow and steady wins the race."
Said the mouse, in first place....
poem by by unknown author
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Sense of senses
If my feeling going nauseous
I’ll breathe the rain scent that fills my nose
Rather than the cold that kills me
If my breath going lost
I’ll taste the sweet promise that kisses my tongue
Rather than the ache than hungers me
If my tongue going tied
I’ll look at the bright smile that holds my eyes
Rather than the bitter that chokes me
If my eyes going blind
I’ll listen to the gentle sound that tickles my ears
Rather than the darkness that surrounds me
If my ears going deaf
I’ll feel the warm sun that touches my skin
Rather than the silence that shrinks me
poem by Maria Sudibyo
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The Eagle
he looms through
the sky, roof of the world
blue, white and all
a bundle of feather
and armoury
flaunting his wide span
confident that the world
is within its grasp
his eyes zero in on objects
far and near
its claws ever ready to strike
his shrill cry echoes
through the mounts
beneath tiny little creatures
run for cover
the steely look of its amour
claws, eyes, beak
the world reels
from its grasp
the eagle in all its splendour
crowns the sky
our emblems
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Focussed
All senses now are focussed well,
Survival calls again,
The lioness obeys its spell
That haunts both beasts and men...
The hunger gnaws within us all,
It comes and will not budge
And why, united by its thrall,
We serve, yet with a grudge...
The lioness now stalks her prey...
With eyes and ears alert,
With nostrils flared for scents that stray
Within the land of hurt...
For here it is that death draws near,
As Mother Nature knows...
And all at once, peace turns to fear,
Till life comes to a close...
The lioness may look refined,
Defiant, noble, brave,
Yet hunger leads to thoughts unkind,
With few around to save.
Her prey is fast, the chase is on!
Escape is rare, so rare...
Yet suddenly the prey has gone...
And leaves her fuming there...
Denis Martindale, copyright, July 2010.
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Focussed'.
More Stephen Gayford poems here:
denis-martindale-dot-blogspot.com
poem by Denis Martindale
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The Jungle Sneaks in the Yard
The jungle sneaks in the yard
and changes from cat to tiger
in a moment
taking less than a second.
Something rustles in the grass
and he crawls on his stomach
with golden eyes drawn wide
he jumps through the air in a bow.
Claws hit in and teeth bite
and with his prey in its mouth
he comes to me,
jumps in through the room’s window
and there’s a black brown snake
hissing out of his mouth
l’Envoi
and cat’s eyes leer murderously cruel
as if has forgotten about being a cat
and eat snakes for snacks
and with one leap
he takes his prey to the outside.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Why? I Am Just Asking.
why do you prey
on the lowly?
why do you
argue with the poor?
why do you
mock them with your
education?
why do you
kill their aspirations?
why do you
not give them the slightest idea
of hope
its flicker, even just a flicker?
what is it that you are telling the Lord
when you go to church everyday?
i am just asking you
whose anger does not know
what subsiding really means.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Cat Mouse Space Games
on earth many a mouse
hunting prey cheese
is swift mousetrap caught
in space the moon
is the night mouse
the earth hunting cat
earth waits huge mouth open
huge feline fangs teeth showing
waiting to swallow whole mouse
a natural ending to cat mouse games
base animals space wars old habits
space quarantine grounds earth minds
poem by Terence George Craddock
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A Small Plot Of Land
Poor soul
Spit upon that
Poor soul
He never knew what hit him
And it hit him so
Poor dunce
He pushed back the pigmen
The barbs laughed
The fool is dead
Poor dunce
Hes less than within us
The brains talk
But the will to live is dead
And prayer cant
Travel so far these days
The talk of your life
Standing so near
To innocent eyes
Poor dunce
Swings thru the tunnels
And claws his way
Is small life so manic
Are these really the days
Poor dunce
Poor dunce
Poor soul
Poor soul
Poor soul
song performed by by David Bowie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Familiars
In the darkness
They send chills down my spine
The bare descending moon
Has burst into life
Hunting and suffering with prisoned eyes
Familiars play in moonlit skies
Beautiful Wings the servants possess
With claws so sharp they can only be from the depths
Beautiful Wings the servants possess
With claws so sharp they can only be from the
This ordinary world ain't set in stone as I thought It'd be
Just like haunted prey
Familiars are hunting me
Familiars
The nerves from the creatures
That you receive
Black magic is here
Bow down to it's knees
No emotion, Familiars can grasp
The adrenaline rush takes over so fast
Beautiful Wings the servants possess
With claws so sharp they can only be from the depths
Beautiful Wings the servants possess
With claws so sharp they can only be from the
This ordinary world ain't set in stone as I thought It'd be
Just like haunted prey
Familiars are hunting me
Familiars
These blue hearts
They will scream
They will scream
You feel them screaming, mourning in the shadows
They will scream...
* This is a song I wrote in my band, the structure and repetition would make more sense if i sung it to you but I'm quite proud of this one =)
poem by Charlotte Riley
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Speaking Greek
If didn't make sense to you
Just maybe it wasn't suppose to.
The man and mouse speak.
It's of a language thought to be of Greek.
So foreign are the mouth movements.
With micro expressions that tell you nothing.
With honesty how can you condemn?
A famine upon the eyes.
With a desire for something with a little more taste.
Poor little man, poor little mouse, such a wasted life.
You are but of the same class.
Separated from everyone by a social status and stature.
You hatch ideas all your own, but they will never be accepted because they will never understand.
They mark you with a label and a branding.
You just don't fit the accepted standard.
So you sit upon the shelf like an unwanted and avoided toy.
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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The City Mouse And The Garden Mouse
The city mouse lives in a house; -
The garden mouse lives in a bower,
He's friendly with the frogs and toads,
And sees the pretty plants in flower.
The city mouse eats bread and cheese; -
The garden mouse eats what he can;
We will not grudge him seeds and stalks,
Poor little timid furry man.
poem by Christina Georgina Rossetti
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For The Buds That Bloom
for the buds that bloom
thank you
for the flowers that show the
biggest petals and the sweetest scent
thank you
for those that keep on holding the dew
thank you
and for those who enjoy even the slightest moment
of my appreciation and praise
all for the glory of God
even for the slightest moment
and then wilt and die
in an instant
like the click of the hand
or the ticking of the clock for a second or two
thank you
i have learned a lot. i have opened. i have kept the answers. i am ready
for the next question that God may ask of me.
even for the shortest moment of my life.
thank you.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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My Ears - My Eyes
My ears are my eyes because I am blind.
When I cross the street I listen for the sound of cars braking.
My ears are my eyes.
When I enter a room I tap my cane onto the floor and listen for the distance the echo travel to know how far I am away from someone else. My ears are my eyes.
I may never physical see the beauty of a spring day, but when I hear the birds are chirping, bikes constantly peddling by and lovers saying I love you. I know it is a beautiful spring day. I may be blind but I still see my ears are my eyes.
Note: No I am not blind myself but I know several people who are and this is me letting the rest of the world how they see through my poetry.
You've been had
I heard a subtle sound from outer stairs
That interrupted peacefulness in house.
I asked myself, what was that noise my ears
Have hearkened to, perhaps it was a mouse?
Although my curiosity aroused
My cautiousness in check I ventured from
My study most perplexed, and than I paused
Because my heart was beating like a drum.
Anticipating what I feared the least
A mouse was not the cause of noise I heard
Nor any grievous, carnivorous beast
Not even Allen Poe’s foreboding bird.
I played a joke on you with all respect
Now the question: what thought you the culprit?
poem by Albert Ahearn
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