Ripples
With his turned up nose and whiskers
At all that life could bring,
The tiger known as Sour Puss,
Would growl at anything!
He loathed the sun, he loathed the rain,
He loathed the clouds above,
In fact, he was a royal pain,
With nothing much to love...
But when he found the silver stream
Where ripples were at play,
He changed, as if now in a dream,
They really made his day...
His whiskers arched in great surprise
And then he tip-toed in...
Forced to agree that it felt nice
Upon his tiger skin...
'Oh, yes! ' he said, 'This sure feels good! '
He grinned from ear-to-ear!
As if confirming that he would
Be soon returning here...
He watched the ripples mesmerised,
As they danced to-and-fro...
Their spectacle so highly prized,
He didn't want to go...
poem by Denis Martindale
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Related quotes
Tiger
Tiger with coat of dissimilar stripes,
When he’s angry, tiger swipes,
Tiger cautious, guarding his lair,
Danger lurking, tiger aware.
Tiger hungry so he hunts,
Facing quarry, tiger confronts.
Tiger waiting, being sly,
Undercover, no tiger espy.
Tiger detects, now he purrs,
Hunger pangs, tiger stirs.
Tiger quick, must now surprise,
Here we have one tiger, wise.
Tiger from his throat he roars,
Stretching out those tiger claws.
Tiger moving, stealthy pelt,
Expiration, by tiger dealt.
Tiger now with belly filled,
Anger passed, one tiger stilled.
Tiger sleeping, with the Pride,
Craving gone, tiger satisfied.
Tiger such a majestic sight,
Near extinction, tiger fight.
Tiger beautiful and fine,
You’re such a leonine feline.
Tiger we must have respect, ,
For your great tiger intellect.
poem by Ernestine Northover
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Tiger, Tiger
Tiger one to tiger two
Tiger one says I love you
Tiger two does not reply
So tiger one, he starts to cry
Tiger two says why you cry?
Tiger one says 'you did not reply'
Tiger two says I need not to
Tiger one says why?
Tiger two says i love you
Tiger one says i love you too
Tiger one says why oh why?
Why didnt you reply?
Tiger two says I love you
I don't have to say it
You know its true
Now you know the reason why
Tiger two did not reply
Tiger one realises why
Tiger two did not reply
So tiger one he starts to smile
And says tiger two is very fine
For tiger two is my dearest babe
Whome I think of everyday
And tiger two I cannot wait
To see your pretty face again
In The Street
Lord Shaftesbury
YOU have done well, we say it. You are dead,
And, of the man that with the right hand takes
Less than the left hand gives, let it be said
He has done something for our wretched sakes.
For those to whom you gave their daily bread
Rancid with God-loathed 'charity,' their drink
Putrid with man-loathed 'sin,' we bow our head
Grateful, as the great hearse goes by, and think.
Yes, you have fed the flesh and starved the soul
Of thousands of us; you have taught too well
The Rich are little gods beyond control,
Save of your big God of the heaven and hell.
We thank you. This was pretty once, and right.
Now it wears rather thin. My lord, good night!
poem by Francis William Lauderdale Adams
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Treading Water
The tired tiger made his way
Until he found the stream,
The sight of it had made his day,
It truly was supreme...
His whiskers twitched at newborn scents
That stirred within the mud
And yet he felt the recompense
As water cooled his blood...
This is the life! No doubt at all,
Just walking here and there
And further on, the waterfall,
A sight beyond compare...
Just treading water, nothing more,
Content to rest therein,
With oozing mud between each claw,
Enough to make him grin...
The tired tiger gently breathed,
His heartbeat calmed as well,
His shoulder muscles now relieved
As Nature cast its spell...
God makes the sunshine then the rain,
Then streams upon the land,
So tired tigers can't complain
When times like these are planned...
Denis Martindale, copyright, December 2011.
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Treading Water'.
More Stephen Gayford poems here:
denis-martindale-dot-blogspot-dot-com
poem by Denis Martindale
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Poor Tiger, Mad Lover
A tiger was sent into an abeyance.
His roars are frail and feeble.
What good is a tiger
Without his tremendous roar?
A nuisance that flourishes and shakes
The forests?
You have left this tiger
Cold and desolate
Under the brambly, prickly bushes
As the calamitous ripples
Of desertion and betrayal
Loom within your thresholds.
I’ve had the courage to
Roar for you -
And now you talk?
You mad lover.
Why only now,
That I am scathed and incapable?
I’ve not a single strength
To lunge at puny hostiles.
And now you talk?
And now you talk?
I don’t even know
What kind of treachery
Lurks within your vicinity -
Is it rue?
Is it disdain?
A mad plot of stifling
This tiger again?
I am losing the flambeau
In the singeing night’s
Far-fetched dream.
Spare me,
I have blundered
For you too long.
So now, you talk?
A chauvinistic trickster.
Now you talk?
Poor tiger, poor tiger.
Mad, crazed lover.
poem by Windsor Guadalupe Jr
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Tigers Cry, too
Where's my fierce, fluffy tiger? I'm back from the outside and I just want him to take over my insides; i want to feel his arms, hot blood rushing in as his skin meets my skin that soaks every bit of him in, eagerly. Fierce as a tiger, but his eyes gleam like a baby's. Warm, and cuddly...what more could my rain beaten soul ask for, besides a cup of hot cocoa? Fierce as a tiger, but wounded- just a little bit- and wants a lamb to kiss the pains away. Fierce as a tiger, but tigers have tears and I have tears, too, and arms, hope, love waiting...for the tiger with the blu-dye fur; i'd give it sooner, but he's got to ask. I know that's hard cuz, he's a tiger and i'm a lamb, but i'll still wait...
The Sun?
They exhaled air with might
Driving the loathed clouds away
That concealed the SUN
For they had enough
Of darkness, penetrating coldness
Enough of anguish.
The clouds forcibly blown away
The new day came into view
Mirth gripped the masses
As the naked sun rose vividly
Sunbathing era for all had come.
Amazement holds them mute
As the sun emits fatal heat
Faces perspire, contort with pain
Vegetation, streams, rivers dry
Huts turn into infernos
Providing sanctuary to none.
Tongues spit regrets
Of what use in the sun?
We loathed the clouds
For darkness, coldness, sufferance.
We loathe the sun
For its unbearable hotness
What a sad dilemma! !
Dedication: To Hodges Chatepa,
Tras Nampota, Henry Njolomole
and Grey Nkungula for this poem
is a birth child of their intellectual
stimulation.
Friday,26th May 1989.
Chilunga, Zomba, Malawi.
poem by Isaac Maliya
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Fable Or History
Possessed of royal appetite, and feeling rather thin,
A monkey one day dressed himself in a tiger's skin
The tiger had been nasty; the monkey was atrocious,
Wearing on his back the right to be ferocious.
He set himself to gnashing teeth and let loose with this cry:
Conqueror of the jungle, the night's dark king am I!
As a bandit of the forest, in the bushes he lurked,
And snatched away and murdered and other horrors worked.
Laid waste the forest, slit the throats of those passing through,
And with the skin that covered him did all it used to do.
He lived within a cave, knee-deep in butchery,
And all who saw the skin believed the tiger was he.
He would cry out, would bring forth a truly terrible roar:
Behold within my cave the bones of victims before.
Before me all draw back and shudder, everyone doth flee,
All tremble - I am tiger! Look! and worship me!
The animals were all awe-struck and fled with great alarm,
A lion-tamer came and grabbed him with his arm,
And ripped off the tiger's skin like a flimsy piece of tissue,
Laid bare this 'conqueror' and said, 'You're just a monkey, you!'
poem by Victor Hugo
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Taming The Tiger
I stepped outside to breathe the air
And stare up at the stars
Big dipper hanging there
Over the rented car
Over the rented car
Im a runaway from the record biz
From the hoods in the hood and the whiny white kids
Boring!
The old man is snoring
And Im taming the tiger
(you cant tame the tiger)
Tiger, tiger burning bright
Nice, kitty kitty
Tiger, tiger burning bright
Sophia says its hard to catch
And harder still to ride
The time to watch the beast the best
Is when its purring at your side
Purring at your side
Accolades and honors
One false move and youre a goner
Boring!
The old man is snoring
And Im taming the tiger
(you cant tame the tiger)
Tiger, tiger burning bright
Nice, kitty kitty
Tiger, tiger burning bright
In the forest of the night
The moon shed light
On my hopeless plight
As the radio blared so bland
Every disc, a poker chip
Every song just a one night stand
Formula music, girly guile
Genuine junkfood for juveniles
Up and down the dial
Mercenary style
I watched the stars chuck down their spears
And a plane went blinking by
And I thought of anna
Wild and dear
Like fireworks in the sky
Fireworks in the sky
Im so sick of this game
Its hip, its hot
Lifes too short, the whole things gotten
Boring!
The old man is snoring
And Im taming the tiger
(you cant tame the tiger)
Tiger, tiger burning bright
Nice, kitty kitty
(boring!)
Tiger, tiger burning bright
(you cant tame the tiger)
Oh, be nice, kitty kitty
(boring!)
Tiger, tiger burning bright
Nice, kitty kitty
(boring, boring!)
Tiger, tiger burning bright
(fight to the light, fight to the light)
In the forest of the night
song performed by by Joni Mitchell
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Saintly Tiger
here comes tiger
he has reached old age
he says i have lost my brave image
i am subject of laughter even of cage
suddenly an idea striked him i will catch animals by becoming sage
soon this surprise came to animals rise
everybody used to visit tiger
he used to eat them and say
your brain is like brick
you cannot understand my trick
once fox came to knew this news
fox said tiger may be timid
but my brain is double speed
he went to tiger cave
i am new tiger and i will fight you and make your grave
challenge from other tiger was rare the sage was scared
fox trickery made dissapear the tiger's timid bravery
poem by Rohan Bendre
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Eye of the Tiger
Tiger, Tiger burning bright
hunts his prey by neon light
Real or bleached, you know the kind
big up front with a sweet behind..
Tiger, tiger, none too bright
Left his cell phone in plain sight
When Elin saw his contact list
She grabbed his driver in her fist.
Four hundred yards straight off the tee
Tiger drives that easily
But when his little wife went clubbing
His face and lawn both took a drubbing
Tiger Tiger burning bright
Doesn’t like the bright spotlight
Yet on his off days he’d resort
To pros who play a different sport
Tiger Tiger made a tape
of Tiger 'eagaling' his date
It came into the hands of 'Vivid'
If they release it he'll be Livid
Tiger, tiger lost Gillette
And Gatorade sent their regrets
Now he’s hawking Trojan’s Wares
and lady Clairol for Blonde hair.
poem by John F. McCullagh
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a Cat’s dream
He stretched out on the ground
lying in the sun
and the heat on the long hair
of the red-golden ginger coat
felt really great
and the golden eyes
of the Persian closed
while it dozed away
and air flowed softly
through its flat pink nose.
Two sharp little white teeth
pointed past its lip
as if ready to clip
and stripes ran everywhere
like those of a tiger.
He’d been a good cat
all his life,
cuddled against
the master and his wife,
caught rats, mice
and even snakes
and brought them
as gifts to the humans
that he loved.
Still on that day
while he slept
he prayed to all the gods
that took cats to heart,
to have a tiger’s day
and be able
to live and play
for just one day
like a tiger.
The dream became a nightmare
and two vicious Rottweilers
chased him up a tree
growling, barking
and leaping up in the air,
but while he slept
his prayer was granted
and a ferocious tiger
rushed down
clawing at the hounds
even before it landed
on the ground.
Torn, bleeding and wailing
the two dogs
ran whining away
and in terror
let every other dog know
a tiger was afoot.
When he rushed down the street
all the people that he met
were totally fretted out
and ran away in sheer terror
and he found nobody
to play with
as even the other cats
were terrified
and kept to themselves.
As the day went on
he got really hungry
and drank water
from a wishing well
where tourists stopped
at a distance
to gaze at him
from their cars
while a squadron of police
drew near in great fear.
To be a Persian cat again,
seemed much, much better
in this place at this time
and he wished
and by chance
he bumped a coin
from the ledge
down into the waters.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Serengeti Evening
The tiger looks a noble sort,
I think that you'd agree.
It doesn't really take much thought,
It's there for all to see.
The tiger smoulders in the sun,
Like marmalade on toast -
His orange stripes so crisply done
To stand out uppermost.
His swishing tail, his piercing eyes,
His rippling muscles, too.
His camouflage meant to disguise,
To do what he must do...
Together, how they all impress -
Both young and old take note.
With tigers, there's no need to guess,
You just look at that coat.
His whiskers twitching up and down
And sometimes left and right.
Each forehead stripe just like a frown,
As if he just took fright.
The tiger looks a noble sort,
Determined through and through!
But sadly, I must now report:
Run fast or he'll catch YOU!
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Serengeti Evening II'.
More Stephen Gayford poems here:
denis-martindale-dot-blogspot-dot-com
poem by Denis Martindale
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Khrushchev reminds me of the tiger hunter who has picked a place on the wall to hang the tiger's skin long before he has caught the tiger. This tiger has other ideas.
quote by John F. Kennedy
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Splash!
The tiger strolled quite merrily,
As if without a qualm
And those that watched could plainly see
That he was mighty calm.
It was as if the stream was his,
To do with as he pleased.
It was a sight no-one should miss,
As tiger tension eased...
So there he was, content to play,
As kittens often do
And suddenly to splash away,
As if this game were new.
The fish were off, they scattered fast,
They had no furry friends.
The tiger didn't feel downcast,
Why should he take offence?
The day was young, he was there first,
The others had to wait...
This was his time to quench his thirst...
Next time, they won't be late.
Splash here, splash there, splash everywhere.
Who cares if it annoys?
As long as he had time to spare,
The pebbles were his toys.
He moved them left, he moved them right,
He flicked one so it flew.
Some birds above him soon took flight,
For all at once fear grew.
The tiger grinned to see such fun.
He knew they were perplexed.
That's when he flicked another one,
Amused that they were vexed.
He strolled along then slowly drank...
He sipped it like champagne.
Then in deep waters slowly sank
Till he was clean again...
When he was through, he left it all...
The sun would dry him soon.
Then through the tall grass he would crawl
And hunt that afternoon...
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Splash'.
poem by Denis Martindale
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Modern Love XXIX: Am I Failing
Am I failing ? For no longer can I cast
A glory round about this head of gold.
Glory she wears, but springing from the mould;
Not like the consecration of the Past!
Is my soul beggared? Something more than earth
I cry for still: I cannot be at peace
In having Love upon a' mortal lease.
I cannot take the woman at her worth!
Where is the ancient wealth wherewith I clothed
Our human nakedness, and could endow
With spiritual splendour a white brow
That else had grinned at me the fact I loathed ?
A kiss is but a kiss now! and no wave
Of a great flood that whirls me to the sea.
But, as you will! we'll sit contentedly,
And eat our pot of honey on the grave.
poem by George Meredith
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Royal Bengal Tiger
Royal bengal tiger!
When swim to pass across river
Target is determined.
Just straight forward move on
To reach that place has set out.
Ever if waves move little
Back to the beginning point.
Straight a must
No left no right
Upright - just.
Royal bengal do not know,
jostle and joggle
He knows-
Hazardous jolt,
Frightening thunderbolt!
Eyes are radiant with glory
Trustworthy.
Richer colour for
Amazing stripes
Created ancient myth and folklore
Royal bengal tiger never agree with
Mischievous counsel of jackals.
(The national animal of Bangladesh is Royal Bengal Tiger)
2/2/2008
poem by Sarwar Chowdhury
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Tiger By The Tail
What a shock it was so surprising
You looked so small and frail
I didnt know what to do
I grabbed the tiger by the tail
I grabbed the tiger by the tail
I grabbed the tiger by the tail
People said that you must be joking
You let emotions run away with you
I realized a little too late
I bit off more than I could chew
I grabbed the tiger by the tail
I grabbed the tiger by the tail
Sometimes you grip it right
And sometimes you fail
I grabbed the tiger by the tail
I grabbed the tiger by the tail
I grabbed the tiger by the tail
At times life can be so enlightening
But it can turn on you
Lately it gets so complicated i
I dont know what the tiger will do
I grabbed the tiger by the tail
I grabbed the tiger by the tail
Sometimes you grip it right
And sometimes you fail
I grabbed the tiger by the tail
I grabbed the tiger by the tail
I grabbed the tiger by the tail
Sometimes you grip it right
And sometimes you fail
I grabbed the tiger by the tail
song performed by by Rick Springfield
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Forest Stream
The lonesome tiger waded through
The forest stream one day.
I'd watched him, though he had no clue,
With equal stealth to stay.
I saw the tiger tread his path,
Suspecting everything.
This was no peaceful, joyful bath...
Who knows what life can bring?
The hunter knows what trees can hide...
He dare not make mistakes.
And so he stares, eyes open wide...
When crossing streams and lakes.
His ears are scanning left and right...
His life depends on these.
He needs them every day and night,
With sudden noise he'll freeze.
His senses span the spectrum's range
And profit from their news.
Detecting every second's change,
Exchanging points of views.
Reflexes spark the sudden chase,
When prey seeks to escape.
When all at once, it's one mad race
And then the hunt takes shape.
For now, the tiger wades the stream,
Defensive at this time...
For me, it's like I'm in a dream...
To see him in his prime...
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Forest Stream'.
poem by Denis Martindale
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You Came
Written by ricky & kim wilde
Someone I know is staring at me
And when I look into her eyes
I see a girl that I used to be
I hardly recognise
Cos in the space of a year
Ive watched the old me disappear
All of the things I once held precious
Just dont mean anything anymore
Cos suddenly
You came, and changed the way I feel
No one could love you more
Because you came and turned my life around
No one could take your place
Ive never felt good with permanent things
Now I dont want anything to change
You cant imagine the joy you bring
My life wont be the same
And Ill be there when you call
Ill pick you up if you should fall
Cos I have never felt such inspiration
Nobody else ever gave me more because
You came, and changed the way I feel
No one could love you more
Because you came and turned my life around
No one could take your place
I watch you sleep in the still of the night
You look so pretty when you dream
So many people just go through life
Holding back, they dont say what they mean
But its easy for me
Since you came
No one could love you more
Because you came and turned my life around
No one could take your place
You came, and changed the way I feel
No one could love you more
Because you came and turned my life around
No one could take your place
song performed by by Kim Wilde
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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