The Elephant
When people call this beast to mind,
They marvel more and more
At such a little tail behind,
So large a trunk before.
poem by Hilaire Belloc
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Elefans' Fans - Elefans' Fans - Gray Eulogy written in a Country Backyard
Enormous fan ears,
Like trees legs large, small rope tail,
Ends pointed, tusk spears.
Flanks walls, pack I derm trunk snake
ANSwer: blind faith tale's trumps wake.
21 March 2009 robi3_1871_saxe1_0003 PAH_NXX
Acrostic Tanka Elefans
The Blind Men and the Elephant
It was six men of Hindostan
To learning much inclined
Who went to see the Elephant
[Though all of them were blind];
That each by observation
Might satisfy his mind.
The first approached the Elephant,
And happening to fall
Against his broad and sturdy side,
At once began to bawl:
"Bless me, it seems the Elephant
Is very like a wall."
The second, feeling of his tusk,
Cried, "Ho! what have we here
So very round and smooth and sharp.
To me ‘tis mighty clear
This wonder of an Elephant
Is very like a spear."
The third approached the animal,
And happening to take
The squirming trunk within his hands,
Then boldly up and spake:
"I see, " quoth he, "the Elephant
Is very like a snake."
The fouth stretched out his eager hand
And felt about the knee,
"What most this mighty beast is like
Is mighty plain, " quoth he:
"'Tis clear enough, the Elephant
Is very like a tree."
The fifth who chanced to touch the ear
Said, "Even the blindest man
Can tell what this resembles most;
Deny the fact who can,
This marvel of an Elephant
Is very like a fan."
The sixth, no sooner had began
About the beast to grope,
Than, seizing on the swinging tail
That fell within his scope,
"I see, " cried he, "the Elephant
Is very like a rope."
And so these men of Hindostan
Disputed loud and long,
Each in his own opinion
Exceeding stiff and strong,
Though each was partly in the right
And all were in the wrong.
John Godfrey SAXE 1816_1887 saxe01_0003_saxe01_0000 PXX_EJX
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Elefans' Fans' Grey Tanka Eulogy written on a Grass Green Country Backyard after John Godfrey Saxe The Blind Men and the Elephant
The King was ill. A travelling monk told him to look upon the healing colour of green. The king spent lakhs and lakhs of money hiring artists to paint the entire country green. The monk once again travelled in the vicinity and came to court. He said to the king: 'Would it not have been better to put on green glasses? ' Paraphrased from a story told by Sathya Sai Baba
Guard us from advice
Responses aping logic
As King in a trice
Should have rejected both monk,
Story artists' green leafed trunk.
Green dreams in dark night
Reveal lies theologic
Emerald eyes quite
Express blood red as black junk -
Simplistic suggestions sunk.
Enormous fan ears,
Like trees legs large, small rope tail,
Ends pointed, tusk spears.
Flanks walls, pack I derm trunk snake
ANSwer: blind faith tale's trumps wake.
Guard from blind minds blind
Leads up undermined mined path
As grass green scene signed
Shows more than meets eye. debunk
Surface virid, vivid drunk.
The Blind Men and the Elephant
It was six men of Hindostan
To learning much inclined
Who went to see the Elephant
[Though all of them were blind];
That each by observation
Might satisfy his mind.
The first approached the Elephant,
And happening to fall
Against his broad and sturdy side,
At once began to bawl:
"Bless me, it seems the Elephant
Is very like a wall."
The second, feeling of his tusk,
Cried, "Ho! what have we here
So very round and smooth and sharp.
To me ‘tis mighty clear
This wonder of an Elephant
Is very like a spear."
The third approached the animal,
And happening to take
The squirming trunk within his hands,
Then boldly up and spake:
"I see, " quoth he, "the Elephant
Is very like a snake."
The fouth stretched out his eager hand
And felt about the knee,
"What most this mighty beast is like
Is mighty plain, " quoth he:
"'Tis clear enough, the Elephant
Is very like a tree."
The fifth who chanced to touch the ear
Said, "Even the blindest man
Can tell what this resembles most;
Deny the fact who can,
This marvel of an Elephant
Is very like a fan."
The sixth, no sooner had began
About the beast to grope,
Than, seizing on the swinging tail
That fell within his scope,
"I see, " cried he, "the Elephant
Is very like a rope."
And so these men of Hindostan
Disputed loud and long,
Each in his own opinion
Exceeding stiff and strong,
Though each was partly in the right
And all were in the wrong.
John Godfrey Saxe
(26 February 2012)
poem by Jonathan Robin
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The Christening
What shall I call
My dear little dormouse?
His eyes are small,
But his tail is e-nor-mouse.
I sometimes call him Terrible John,
'Cos his tail goes on -
And on -
And on.
And I sometimes call him Terrible Jack,
'Cos his tail goes on to the end of his back.
And I sometimes call him Terrible James,
'Cos he says he likes me calling him names...
But I think I shall call him Jim,
'Cos I am fond of him.
poem by Alan Alexander Milne
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Conflict In Their Mind
In the middle I have heard of a wild beast having a great feast
From where I stand I can see his tail bruising the southern land
With his flaws he struggled to get grip of the northern walls
From where I am free I can see his head dangling across the red sea
Some say this beast always stretch his back legs far east
Tho he sometimes grip the west but the way he back of I am impress
This beast is somewhere in our mind as we are so blind to slay our owne kind
poem by Kemurl Fofanah
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Road Song of the Bandar-Log
Here we go in a flung festoon,
Half-way up to the jealous moon!
Don't you envy our pranceful bands?
Don't you wish you had extra hands?
Would n't you like if your tails were -- so --
Curved in the shape of a Cupid's bow?
Now you're angry, but -- never mind,
Brother, thy tail hangs down behind!
Here we sit in a branchy row,
Thinking of beautiful things we know;
Dreaming of deeds that we mean to do,
All complete, in a minute or two --
Something noble and grand and good,
Won by merely wishing we could.
Now we're going to -- never mind,
Brother, thy tail hangs down behind!
All the talk we ever have heard
Uttered by bat or beast or bird --
Hide or fin or scale or feather --
Jabber it quickly and all together!
Excellent! Wonderful! Once again!
Now we are talking just like men.
Let 's pretend we are... never mind,
Brother, thy tail hangs down behind!
This is the way of the Monkey-kind.
poem by Rudyard Kipling
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Our Metal Beast
Down the road we talk and laugh,
In the metal beast that gives us a ride,
Who knows if it is willing,
And who would really care.
Who ever thought we could ruin,
the life of that which gives it back,
the metal beast are everywhere,
Large ones that seem to carry,
Fifty or more on their tracks.
Or the small ones no more than five or six,
they can carry,
These metal beast,
we never question,
these metal beast that spew out death,
in a smokey and floating form.
Our metal beast,
that we learn to love,
Our metal beast are everywhere,
polished and primed,
or rusty and old,
Our metal beast that we hold onto,
that we love,
Or take for granted.
Our metal beast,
spew out death to our home.
poem by Rebecca Adams
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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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When You Call My Name
When you call my name.
Don't think of me a beast.
I did my best
And you arrested me in doubt.
When you call my name...
Don't put the blame on me.
You did admit
That we should quit
Whatever this was...
And what's done is dead!
WHY do you take time to bother me?
WHY can't your mind just rest in peace?
WHY are your trying to be so sweet?
My bitterness increases.
When you call my name.
Don't think of me a beast.
Don't think the dial tone that you hear...
Is tinged with deep hidden affection,
That has long decreased.
There is no goodness left done I can do for you!
Especially when doing my best,
To have you say I am good for nothing!
I should accept these rejections and dance?
When you call my name...
Don't put the blame on me.
You did admit
That we should quit
Whatever this was...
And what's done is dead!
My roaring days are gone!
Is that what you expected?
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Defeating...That Beast
You've begun...to defeat,
That beast that's come to be.
You've become...to defeat it!
You've begun...to defeat it!
You've begun...to defeat,
That beast that's come to be.
You've become...to defeat it!
You've begun...to defeat it!
Think about the distance you've come,
Defeating...the beast.
Think about your decision not to run,
Away...from the beast.
Think about those knees on the ground,
Weeping for the beast.
Think about the dirt you ate,
Fed...by the beast.
Think about celebrating...
Those days ahead awaiting!
You've begun...to defeat,
That beast that's come to be.
You've become...to defeat it!
You've begun...to defeat it!
You've begun...to defeat,
That beast that's come to be.
You've become...to defeat it!
You've begun...to defeat it!
No longer the martyr,
Defeating...that beast.
Get up...and strut about.
You've defeated...that beast.
Let those words come out of your mouth,
'I've defeated...that beast! '
Let the people see and believe it,
You've defeated...that beast.
Whoop...and hollar about,
'I've defeated...and done feeding it!
That beast is outta my house.'
You've begun...to defeat,
That beast that's come to be.
You've become...to defeat it!
You've begun...to defeat it!
You've begun...to defeat,
That beast that's come to be.
You've become...to defeat it!
You've begun...to defeat it!
More than a piece of cake!
Defeating...that beast.
Gone and eliminated.
Defeating...that beast.
Much more than a piece of cake.
Defeating...that beast.
But gone and eliminated.
Defeating...that beast.
More than a piece of cake.
Defeating...that beast.
Gone and eliminated.
Defeating...that beast.
Much more than a piece of cake.
Defeating...that beast.
But gone and eliminated.
That beatened up beast to beat!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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By joining the tail to the trunk one makes up the whole elephant.
To Manage my Beast!
Focus.....
drive.
Inside,
STRIVE! ! !
With every blow,
soon after a rainbow :)
Beyond all the trife,
beyond being a wife....
Deeper in a soul,
a feeling of wanting to grow.
In a world...so different from my beliefs..
the people...the language they speak...
It is time, for me, to be who I am....
not for the world that plays..plays by hand.
My inner beast wants to be fair.
Not for the people that just don't care.
I'm not a number,
nooo, not at all..
not you're 2am call.
My inner beast is waiting to explode....
not be a part of an episode....
The Hunting
The Red Fox awaits
hidden in twisted tree trunk
colors from the hour of hunting
palette red
blood desired
drained, falling in drops
the seasons of death
there's no heart
beats of thunder
there's no mind
she showed red tail
FOX HUNT
Opened the gates of the aristocracy!
no dogs or horses
Men!
poem by Mirna Morgan
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A Camel
A camel
That walks alone
Across the desert unending
Has no pretentions.
Every camel is so.
A camel
That has a hump large and
A physique strong
Is a marvel to none.
No marvel at all.
A camel
Treads before me at times
Leaving a track to follow and
I carry my small luggage
No caravan is seen.
A camel,
A desert,
A track and
Me.
There is a breeze blowing from somewhere!
poem by M.d Dinesh Nair
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People call me Wayne Wonder and it also goes back to football because I could do mad skills with the ball and people would marvel and wonder how I could do it.
quote by Wayne Wonder
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Triumphus
A man, made
In the image
Of God,
Became a
Beast, in the
Form of a man.
The beast
Sired a son,
Not a beast.
The beast
Abandoned
His son.
His son
Has a son,
Not a beast.
poem by Francis Santaquilani
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How many legs does a dog have if you call the tail a leg? Four. Calling a tail a leg doesn't make it a leg.
quote by Abraham Lincoln
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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If you call a tail a leg, how many legs has a dog? Five? No, calling a tail a leg don't make it a leg.
quote by Abraham Lincoln
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Never Met A Person As Wonderful As Me
Well, I stare at myself in the mirror
When I wake up every morn
And I marvel at how great Ive been
Since the day that I was born
Ive made so many albums
Ive run out of things to name em
My fans all want to be like me
And really, who can blame em
Teenage groupies all surround me
I guess I know why
No one else can match my charm
Why do they even try
All the girls in college
Turned me down for other fellas
But I know why, it seems to me
Theyre just insanely jealous
Who wouldnt be
Some people call it self-indulgence
But they just dont understand
That its hard to be too humble
When you know that youre so grand
And Im not trying to say Im perfect
I just want you to see
That Ive never met a person
Whos as wonderful as me
Now, Im not arrogant or haughty
And Im certainly not conceited
But anyone trying to match my wits
Is very soon defeated
Im a marvellous human being
Im just one big hunk of man
Sometimes I have to marvel
At how very great I am
Some people call it self-indulgence
But they just dont understand
That its hard to be too humble
When you know that youre so grand
And Im not trying to say Im perfect
I just want you to see
That Ive never met a person
Whos as marvellous, spectacular
Fantastic and terrific
And so very great and wonderful as me
song performed by by Weird Al Yankovic
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Dark Amon
The Dark Amon
Again and again, what seems like decades, a black spirit swirls and whirls
Hungry for the souls abroad this once holy night
Form of a large black wolf, slithering serpent tail swishing behind
Opening jaws as a gruesome howl lurches through the air
Little girl and boys huddle beneath their quilts
Knowing the beast knows no barrier
Mothers and fathers lay shaking wondering
If when they awake will the children be there alive
poem by Melissa Hanson
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I call it love
Some people call it obsession
I call it love
Some people call it a confession
I call it love
Some people call it torture
I call it love
Some people call it murder
I call it love
Some people call it a new life
I call it love
Some people call it death
I call it love
Some people call it suicide
I call it on love...
poem by Anonymous One
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