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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Restful
White tigers haven't much to say,
When flat out on the chin...
'It's been a long, long, long, long day...
I'm pooped! It's done me in! '
So there he was, eyes almost closed,
Quite restful... dozing off...
And now no longer quite disposed
To act as if a toff!
Aristocrats must also sleep,
When into beds they climb...
To yawn again and breathe in deep,
When it's their beddy-time!
White tigers may be very rare,
But they can't beat the clock!
A tiger's eye can stare and stare
Till moonshine it must block...
Tomorrow's just another day,
Who knows what it might bring?
For now the big white cat must lay,
Like any other king...
I've never heard a tiger snore...
I'd never get that near!
But if I did, I'd shake his paw
And scarper, never fear!
By day, to him, I'd raise my hat
And meekly gently bow...
Good night, you furry fluffy cat!
You're not so mighty now...
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Restful'.
More Stephen Gayford poems here:
denis-martindale-dot-blogspot-dot-com
poem by Denis Martindale
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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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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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In Deepest Shadow
White tigers live until their time,
Yet, uptil then, behold...
For each was born to look sublime,
Like silver, not like gold...
The Bengal tigers aren't like these,
Black stripes against the white...
As if created just to please,
Inspire and delight...
There's such a blessing in their eyes
That stare with topaz blue,
Like tanzanite or pale sapphires
Each time they look at you...
Respect for them just grows and grows,
As if that's meant to be...
Not that you'd want to stand too close,
To gaze on royalty...
Behold the magic that they cast,
In deepest shadow's spell...
As dusk approaches till it's past
And daytime bids farewell...
Beneath the moon, their eyes shine on,
Like beacons in the night!
Until the next day's sun has shone,
Revealing black and white...
Denis Martindale, copyright, October 2011.
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'In Deepest Shadow'.
More Stephen Gayford poems here:
denis-martindale-dot-blogspot-dot-com
poem by Denis Martindale
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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
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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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Forest Splendour
White tigers try to keep awake,
Yet keep on dozing off!
So ultra cool, for goodness sake,
They think that others scoff...
Look at him now, he's not that strong,
Sleep's beaten him again!
Plum tuckered out, he can't last long...
Bet he can't count to ten!
White tigers like to do their best...
They show off every day!
They're happy most when they've impressed
And not just thought okay!
The strain soon wears, fatigue comes back
And nobody's immune...
And all at once their muscles slack,
About late afternoon...
This white tiger's now flat out,
All restful, suddenly...
Wondering how that came about -
It's quite a mystery!
He's run around and feasted well...
He's warmed up by the sun...
I think he'll stay there for a spell...
Don't wake him, anyone!
Denis Martindale, copyright, November 2010.
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Forest Splendour'.
More Stephen Gayford poems here:
denis-martindale-dot-blogspot-dot-com
poem by Denis Martindale
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Tigernation
Within the land where tigers roam,
Some people spot their stripes
And on their PCs while at home
Perhaps they share their Skypes,
Perhaps they upload photographs,
Or videos they've made,
Beyond their times when they've had laughs
From some new escapade...
Some share their tiger images
Online for all to see!
For zoos and schools and colleges,
For fans like you and me...
And software then comes into play,
Identifying cats,
As they go prowling day-by-day...
Like they're aristocrats!
Thus tigernation's website grows
With images galore,
So many that one hardly knows
How many tigers roar!
The tigerfacts and articles
Are there, so please peruse,
Just pause a while as each enthralls
And share your points of views...
When you find each tiger's profile,
Will you check stripes and stare?
Will tigernation make you smile
At creatures oh so rare?
Will you support the work they do?
Will you support the team?
Will you help tigers, now so few,
Not simply think and dream?
If tigernation stirs your soul
And somehow warms your heart,
Perhaps it's time to take control
And try to do your part...
If tigernation helps you learn,
Please visit now and then...
Such is the tale of their concern,
They'll welcome you again!
Denis Martindale, copyright, September 2012.
Website:
tigernation-dot-org for news and views,
what you do then, is yours to choose...
poem by Denis Martindale
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Adorable
The white tiger cub had blue eyes!
He looked adorable!
The sight of him was some surprise,
The day he came to call...
He had a swagger in his stride,
A special confidence!
Just like a lion full of pride,
This tiger had few friends!
The other tigers envied him!
You see, he looked too cute!
Filled up with beauty to the brim
And his horn first to toot!
'Hey, look at me! ' He seemed to say!
'Admit it, I look cool! '
That made the tigers walk away...
And he felt such a fool!
When wisdom slowly filtered through,
He quickly changed his style.
And stopped the things he used to do...
He didn't even smile...
Now humbled, he walked all alone...
Unloved, unliked, unsure...
Nobody even shared a bone...
It shook him to the core!
One tiger showed him pity, then...
His loneliness to end...
Humility's the moment when
You're thankful for a friend...
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Adorable'.
poem by Denis Martindale
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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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White Treasures
White tigers like their privacy,
It keeps their young cubs calm,
There's nothing like tranquillity
To ease off thoughts of harm...
Their blood flows at a gentle pace
In neighbourhoods serene
And pretty soon they like the place,
As if they've always been...
It's no surprise that parents feel
The need for some reprieve,
Some solitude, some time to heal,
Yes, even if it's brief...
Some call these golden moments yet
They're worth much more than that!
It's very hard to purr and fret,
It's true, ask any cat...
White tigers should be left alone,
To wind down, tails at rest,
To find a peace that's rarely known
Is how best to be blessed...
Don't say a word or point your hand,
Just crouch down and observe...
But if they chase us, quickly stand...
And run for all you're worth!
Denis Martindale, copyright, February 2012.
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'White Treasures'
which is found on gayfordgallery-dot-com
More Stephen Gayford poems here:
denis-martindale-dot-blogspot-dot-com
poem by Denis Martindale
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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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Jungle Trail
The treacherous tiger tip-toed
Towards the jungle trail...
Obedient to the tigers' code,
He knew he must not fail.
White tigers like to do their best,
As if they were like kings!
Let other creatures stare impressed!
Pathetic underlings!
That's why he walked as if on air,
As if the world were his.
So nonchalant, so debonair -
What more to life than this?
Yet hunger tamed his thoughts for now,
He dined on humble pie...
What future would the Fates allow?
What victim would pass by?
He licked his lips, expectantly!
He sensed new prey was near...
He crouched down low, so none could see,
Then everything was clear!
He pounced like lightning! Head to tail...
A nightmare not a dream!
Triumphant on his jungle trail...
Expert, yet so extreme...
Denis Martindale, copyright, October 2010.
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Jungle Trail'.
More Stephen Gayford poems here:
denis-martindale-dot-blogspot-dot-com
poem by Denis Martindale
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Forest Tracker
White tigers track the forest floor,
Like this one did one day,
Steadfast and with his tightened jaw,
He went along his way...
Sometimes to pause and listen well,
Then one step at a time,
To catch a glimpse, some sign to tell,
To perpetrate his crime...
The villain of the piece was he,
Of that there was no doubt,
Though just a stroll it seemed to be,
Watch out! Watch out! Watch out!
I wouldn't snap a twig or two,
If I were walking near,
In fact, I think I'd be like you,
Just paralysed with fear!
I'd watch that tiger walking past,
While I stood still unseen...
If he saw me, then I'd run fast,
'Cos tigers can get mean!
For now, he's like some cuddly cat,
Ol' Blue Eyes, all alone...
And yet, please don't be fooled by that,
You see, he's fully grown!
Denis Martindale, copyright, February 2012.
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Forest Tracker'.
More Stephen Gayford poems here:
denis-martindale-dot-blogspot-dot-com
poem by Denis Martindale
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Game of Stare
There’s a boy with his fellow
I caught his eyes with a wander
Now the game has been played
Now you have been challenged
You better asked my name
Before anyone came
But you only stare, stare, stare
Like I annoy your safety ring
Like you can’t even think
You only stare, stare, stare
Like I lose you something
Something you can’t even win
There’s boy in the dance floor
I catch his eyes, he comes closer
Now the game is replayed
Now you better watch out
You better take me out
Before someone calls you coward
Cause you only stare, stare, stare
Like you never see me in dress
Like no one else who dares
You only stare, stare, stare
Like I steal you something
Something you can’t even think
There’s a boy in the park
He makes me catch his eyes
Now the game is forward
Now you don’t want to break up
You better have a word
Before you loose your hold
And you only stare, stare, stare
Like a puppy wants a bone
Like you’ll be lost if I’m gone
You only stare, stare, stare
Like I can give you something
Something you think you can’t win
poem by Maria Sudibyo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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