Puff-adder
Camouflaged in the veldt,
with its khaki colour
melting into the rocks and grass
its flicking tongue caught my eye,
made me froze in my tracks
where it was lying looking obese
but a puff-adder attacks lightning quick
and do not like other snakes
try to get away,
but is a cocky deviant thing
and your limbs rot off
where it bites.
A startled grey field mouse
was unaware of lurking death
fled out before me
with a peeping sound
and disappeared down the throat
of the once hissing snake.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Related quotes
True Friends? ? ?
the snake slithers around
sneaky not to make a sound
slowly creeps upon his prey
attacks then runs away
beware of him he bites
and does it within his rights
he might be pretty to look at
but truly he's ugly lot
the snake will smother
even kill his own mother
snakes are full of greed
upon your soul he will feed
the snake is a self-adoring creature
humility is not a feature
snakes are everywhere
so beware.......
poem by Ultimate Cyan
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How to paint a striking Rinkhals
Green knee high grass
paves, covers the veldt
making the snake's hideout
its place from where it sails.
First observe the snake
sneaking from the grass
while it passes camouflaged
to the next shade
or lies turned over
as if dead, showing its stomach
enticing you to pass, or to come near
to investigate,
maybe you'll see the stripes
ringing its neck
in colours of cream
or something near to white
or maybe you may not
when in terror astounded
to whoever looks
it flashes alive
like a lightning rod
with death sizzling out of its mouth
and if you can paint this
you have the essence of it,
making terror alive,
in a snake which looks placid
but which can spit and strike
carrying death as far as it goes.
[Rinkhals: Spitting African Cobra.]
poem by Gert Strydom
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On a spoor
We were hot on a fresh spoor
and the bushman tracker said
that the enemy were not far ahead
when we crossed through some dense bush
under some trees
and looking up I saw something on a branch
camouflaged, dappled into the shade
and yellow eyes peered down at me
filled with rage, with energy
and astounded more than anything
I brought the gun to bear,
but the pent up energy,
melted with languid grace
right into the tree
as if it wasn’t aware of me, aware of us
and we walked on past a clearing
into the open veldt where hip high grass
was interrupted by some green thorn bushes.
A huge male lion came bursting
out of one of the bushes
with swishing tale running at full speed
and we all froze in our strides with weapons ready
and it was almost
as if the light machinegun’s trigger was tempting me
to shoot the raging storming animal down
and at that moment I was relieved
that it was not the leopard that would jump,
from one of us after another at sheer speed
and at quick succession try to kill us all
being a expert at baboon hunting
and thus at killing primates
but the tracker had signalled for all of us
to wait when he saw it
and that party of special force soldiers
was ready to kill when that lion
came to a halt with swishing tail right in front of me
and I can still smell its foul breath
when it roared with wide-open jaws
and terror hit my stomach like a mighty fist
and I could have cut it down
blasting it right from the ground
but the ferocity, the beauty of that beast
halted me as if I was watching it in a dream
and I watched its yellow fangs and pink tongue
totally motionless trying to stare it down
and suddenly it turned around
walking back into the veldt
timid and kitten-eyed
disappearing into the grass, melting into it
poem by Gert Strydom
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Grey Ocean
While walking on her beach
I met an Ocean
This event will stay with me forever
This is why
While looking very closely at the Ocean,
I noticed that it was Grey
This startled me
I had thought that all Oceans were blue
Not Grey
I looked at the Ocean and said
'Why on earth are you Grey? '
It let out a cry which stated
'Well, because I'm made of stones! '
I asked it why it was stone
It then told me long tale
About how children use to throw rocks at the Ocean
It said that the rocks slowly filled up the Ocean
This anger me greatly
So now
Everytime I see a child throwing rocks at oceans
I tell them the story of the Grey Ocean
They never believe me.
poem by David Corman
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Snakes In The Grass
Snakes in the grass
sliding and slithering
furtively so slow,
can attack so quickly
but at least you know.
The real snakes in the grass
sidling and creeping
slowly so you won't see,
approach from out of nowhere
lest they be
noticed at all.
They watch the fall
then slither away
and take it all,
your peace, your harmony,
your way of existing
as they are co-existing
right in your sight.
These are the snakes
that speak with forked tongue
to our innocent ones, oh so young.
They coerce them like the
serpent in Eden.
So our youth
can't ever stop the bleedin'.
For snakes in the grass
are leading the way
with everything false
into moral decay.
How do we stop these
snakes in the grass?
They've been around
since time's begun.
We must turn a deaf ear
to every last one.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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When Eden faded away into memory
When Eden faded away into memory,
the big beautiful trees,
the lovely grass
and pets all
came to a end.
Adam cast his eyes
up to the blue sky
and rain lashed down
and lightning roared.
He swam through a river
and suddenly piranhas nibbled at him.
lions, tigers and wolves
appeared as if out of nowhere
and roared and howled
and attacked scratching and biting.
Poisonous snakes
crawled hissing from rocks
and plants and grass.
Yet, Eve was just as lovely
as the first time,
that he laid eyes on her.
At times she cried
and sometimes she sang
and he went to discover,
what a wonderful place
the world was with her on his side.
poem by Gert Strydom
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The puff adder that cannot fly has caught the hornbill that flies.
Hopeless Bleak Despair
I never knew what everybody meant by endless, hopeless bleak despair
Until one day when I found out
The first time I ever left my house
It saw me and followed me home
And stayed with me for my whole life
For years and years I wandered the earth
Condemned to a life of bleak despair
Then one day I looked around and found
It had disappeared
All this bleak despair
It was always there
And then one day it disappeared
In a puff of smoke
In an unceremonious way
One day it disappeared
All I had ever wanted in my life was only to be free of it
It drove away my family
It made me lose my job
Whenever anybody saw it
Theyd say get out of here
For years and years I wandered the earth
Sick of my life, looking forward to death
The one day I looked around and found
It had disappeared
All this bleak despair
It was always there
And then one day it disappeared
In a puff of smoke
In an unceremonious way
One day it disappeared
For years and years I wandered the earth
Until I died and went to hell but my
Despair had ascended to heaven
Thats how I finally got rid of it
song performed by by They Might Be Giants
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Pipe Song
Care is all stuff:--
Puff! Puff!
To puff is enough:--
Puff! Puff
More musky than snuff,
And warm is a puff:--
Puff! Puff
Here we sit mid our puffs,
Like old lords in their ruffs,
Snug as bears in their muffs:--
Puff! Puff
Then puff, puff, puff,
For care is all stuff,
Puffed off in a puff--
Puff! Puff!
poem by Herman Melville
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The Two Old Bachelors
Two old Bachelors were living in one house;
One caught a Muffin, the other caught a Mouse.
Said he who caught the Muffin to him who caught the Mouse,--
'This happens just in time! For we've nothing in the house,
'Save a tiny slice of lemon nd a teaspoonful of honey,
'And what to do for dinner -- since we haven't any money?
'And what can we expect if we haven't any dinner,
'But to loose our teeth and eyelashes and keep on growing thinner?'
Said he who caught the Mouse to him who caught the Muffin,--
'We might cook this little Mouse, if we had only some Stuffin'!
'If we had but Sage andOnion we could do extremely well,
'But how to get that Stuffin' it is difficult to tell'--
Those two old Bachelors ran quickly to the town
And asked for Sage and Onions as they wandered up and down;
They borrowed two large Onions, but no Sage was to be found
In the Shops, or in the Market, or in all the Gardens round.
But some one said, -- 'A hill there is, a little to the north,
'And to its purpledicular top a narrow way leads forth;--
'And there among the rugged rocks abides an ancient Sage,--
'An earnest Man, who reads all day a most perplexing page.
'Climb up, and seize him by the toes! -- all studious as he sits,--
'And pull him down, -- and chop him into endless little bits!
'Then mix him with your Onion, (cut up likewise into Scraps,)--
'When your Stuffin' will be ready -- and very good: perhaps.'
Those two old Bachelors without loss of time
The nearly purpledicular crags at once began to climb;
And at the top, among the rocks, all seated in a nook,
They saw that Sage, a reading of a most enormous book.
'You earnest Sage!' aloud they cried, 'your book you've read enough in!--
'We wish to chop you into bits to mix you into Stuffin'!'--
But that old Sage looked calmly up, and with his awful book,
At those two Bachelors' bald heads a certain aim he took;--
and over crag and precipice they rolled promiscuous down,--
At once they rolled, and never stopped in lane or field or town,--
And when they reached their house, they found (besides their want
of Stuffin',)
The Mouse had fled; -- and, previously, had eaten up the Muffin.
They left their home in silence by the once convivial door.
And from that hour those Bachelors were never heard of more.
poem by Edward Lear
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On Slaughtering
I claim not, fair or unfair,
But tell you, what I did see,
On the chicken slaughterer’s shop
When I ordered for the one.
They were numerous,
Moving and clucking,
Soft, white and vigorous,
Unaware to the death approaching,
For they were to be dined.
A man callous faced,
Clad in dress blood stained,
Caught one from the wings,
Pressed legs with a clumsy foot,
Wrenching neck, stifled throat,
With the thumb nail.
With a heart hardened by practice,
A long sharp knife, moved crosswise
Blood thick, red and warm,
Welling out from the cut,
Sprinkled staining the dress more.
It uttered not a sound, a cry of pain
As we do, when crushed,
Under the feet of heavy woe.
For we have tongue, voice and wisdom,
But they not.
Throbbing a little became still,
Cutting off legs, he ripped up,
Fluffy soft, feathery cloak.
A thing alive a moment ago,
Was lying lifeless to be served.
Then gutting out entrails,
He made pieces eight,
With a chopper sharp.
Who knows life and death,
Are cousins, close and intimate,
Who knows equal are the pangs,
Of death to great and small.
On eating meet and being fierce,
O man! Detest not the animals,
You too are found of eating flesh,
But the difference is,
You eat spicy cooked,
And they bloody raw.
Be aware treat them with care,
Be loving, grateful and kind,
For they are the feeding servants,
Give you flesh and fur, milk and marrow,
And for the sake of yours,
Suffer painful agonizing death.
poem by Muhammad Shanazar
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Intelligence Fails
The world is a snake-ladder game.
Some get ladders but not snake bites.
Some get snake bites but not ladders.
Most get both but not evenly.
No intelligence can work it out.
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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The Eerie Little House
Wandering lonely through the forest track,
An eerie little house, I saw.
Its tiled roof and tall chimney,
Peered through the foliage of leaves.
Pacing down a dark ravine,
I found myself before a latched gate,
With a creaking sound, the latch gave way,
Letting me into a dilapidated house.
Its walls were painted grey and white.
The plaster on them bore cracks and marks.
It stood aloof on a small hillock.
The air around bore a strange scent.
Owls were heard hooting aloud,
Desolate it was with none to care,
Thorny shrubs grew all around,
And tall trees shut it out from view.
Dark and dreary it stood remote,
And I sensed it to be a haunted house.
Peeping down through its splintered door,
I got a glimpse of the dingy rooms,
Old frames decked the walls,
Shield and armour, near winding stairs,
Sultry the air, trapped inside,
The floors covered with grimy dust,
Shadows moved like snakes curling,
And giant bats flew about my head,
Cobwebs hung from the chequered roof,
And strange sounds began renting the air.
I felt a tremor within my brain,
Sparks of fear darted through my vein,
Behind me, I heard a rattling sound.
Turning around, I found the phantom of a man!
Blood curdled within my veins,
My heart ticked off in drumming beats,
My limbs, I could hardly move.
I grimly sensed ‘the Thing' upon me,
It tightened its grip around my neck,
Its sharp claws went deep into my throat.
Ohhh! I screamed a terrible scream,
And found myself lying below my cot! !
poem by Valsa George
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I Froze Up (live From Webcast)
I Froze Up Lyrics
You're the light wiping out my batteries
You're the cream in my airport-coffees
I don't know why I stick with you
If I had a choice
Like lambs into the slaughter
Like cows to the storm above
You're the Genie of my lamp
I could have in anyone
But one day I froze up
But one day I froze up
But one day I froze up
But one day I froze up
Like this...
Oh, little boy...
Little boy, little boy
Oh, little boy...
Little boy, little boy
If you try to strangle the skylark
Try to cut it up, to see how it works
Stalactites and stalagmites
Rows of never open doors
Coz one day I froze up
Coz one day I froze up
Coz one day I froze up
Coz one day I froze up
I did...
song performed by by Radiohead
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Boy And The Snake
Henry was every morning fed
With a full mess of milk and bread.
One day the boy his breakfast took,
And eat it by a purling brook
Which through his mother's orchard ran.
From that time ever when he can
Escape his mother's eye, he there
Takes his food in th'open air.
Finding the child delight to eat
Abroad, and make the grass his seat,
His mother lets him have his way.
With free leave Henry every day
Thither repairs, until she heard
Him talking of a fine grey bird.
This pretty bird, he said, indeed,
Came every day with him to feed,
And it loved him, and loved his milk,
And it was smooth and soft like silk.
His mother thought she'd go and see
What sort of bird this same might be.
So the next morn she follows Harry,
And carefully she sees him carry
Through the long grass his heaped-up mess.
What was her terror and distress,
When she saw the infant take
His bread and milk close to a snake!
Upon the grass he spreads his feast,
And sits down by his frightful guest,
Who had waited for the treat;
And now they both begin to eat.
Fond mother! shriek not, O beware
The least small noise, O have a care-
The least small noise that may be made,
The wily snake will be afraid-
If he hear the lightest sound,
He will inflict th'envenomed wound.
She speaks not, moves not, scarce does breathe,
As she stands the trees beneath;
No sound she utters; and she soon
Sees the child lift up its spoon,
And tap the snake upon the head,
Fearless of harm; and then he said,
As speaking to familiar mate,
'Keep on your own side, do, Grey Pate:'
The snake then to the other side,
As one rebukëd, seems to glide;
And now again advancing nigh,
Again she hears the infant cry,
Tapping the snake, 'Keep further, do;
Mind, Grey Pate, what I say to you.'
The danger's o'er-she sees the boy
(O what a change from fear to joy!)
Rise and bid the snake 'good-bye;'
Says he, 'Our breakfast's done, and I
Will come again to-morrow day:'
Then, lightly tripping, ran away.
poem by Charles Lamb
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Unravel
The bat unravels
His life
By flying high inside the dark caves
But also people went into the dark caves where the bats were
And they never made a sound
Also I congratulated them because they are brave
Eventhough inside of the cave was water and they went for a splash Also
But they caught some eel for them to have for dinner
But the german men that went in the cave found so many water snakes and He caught some water snakes for his dinner and he grilled The water snakes Outside the caves but the other people had to eat The eel raw
But the German men said that the snakes tasted so good that Reminded him of grilled chicken
poem by Aldo Kraas
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Chameleon
I have seen you turn
night black with anger
when you think that you are in danger
the colour of a brown urn
when you are sneaking between rocks that burn
with the heat of the sun, watching me the stranger
with curious rolling eyes while you linger
and I have seen you turn green as you return
to your hiding place in the tree
carefully placing your grabbing toes
with your pink rolled up tongue shooting out
quick as a lightning bolt from which no fly can be free
and sneaking around as most insects’ woes
while turning into a leave or a sprout.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Battle at the Lomba River
That night guns roared
all around us everywhere
and the field was acrid
with the smell
of the man made judgement day.
Howitzers flung their projectiles
miles high into the sky
flying by past the horizon
like glowing stars.
Tanks and armoured cars
crunched, raced on
over trees, anthills and almost anything
coughing death left and right
through flaming barrels
and some lions, leopards, hyenas,
jackals, suricates, scorpions
and snakes in the veldt
thought that this night
the world will come to an end
and later still the world
went on like before
while man had a armistice
and then again another war.
poem by Gert Strydom
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The Adder
The adder is a British fish -
I'm sorry, I mean snake!
The error's one I've made and wish
I hadn't for its sake:
It drowned quite quickly for a fish,
Though slowly for a snake.
poem by South Westerner
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