The Frogs
A POOL was once congeal'd with frost;
The frogs, in its deep waters lost,
No longer dared to croak or spring;
But promised, being half asleep,
If suffer'd to the air to creep,
As very nightingales to sing.
A thaw dissolved the ice so strong,--
They proudly steer'd themselves along,
When landed, squatted on the shore,
And croak'd as loudly as before.
poem by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
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Song Of The Croaker
An old frog lived in a dismal swamp,
In a dismal kind of way;
And all that he did, whatever befell,
Was to croak the livelong day.
Croak, croak, croak,
When darkness filled the air,
And croak, croak, croak,
When the skies were bright and fair.
'Good Master Frog, a battle is fought,
And the foeman's power is broke.'
But he only turned a greener hue,
And answered with a croak.
Croak, croak, croak,
When the clouds are dark and dun,
And croak, croak, croak,
In the blaze of the noontide sun.
'Good Master Frog, the forces of right
Are driving the hosts of wrong.'
But he gave his head an ominous shake,
And croaked out, 'Nous verrons!'
Croak, croak, croak,
Till the heart is full of gloom,
And croak, croak, croak,
Till the world seems but a tomb.
To poison the cup of life,
By always dreading the worst.
Is to make of the earth a dungeon damp,
And the happiest life accursed.
Croak, croak, croak,
When the noontide sun rides high,
And croak, croak, croak,
Lest the night come by and by.
Farewell to the dismal frog;
Let him croak as loud as he may,
He cannot blot the sun from heaven,
Nor hinder the march of day,
Though he croak, croak, croak,
Till the heart is full of gloom,
And croak, croak, croak,
Till the world seems but a tomb.
poem by Horatio Alger Jr
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Its Croaking Shows Its Presence! !
The croaking echoes through the neighborhood,
the blasting croaking echoes as braying,
sometimes as barking, another time as whistling,
the sounds of croaking may crack our heads,
in the tropical region where it rains,
every other day and musical begins,
with the mono syllabic cricket,
house lizards join them occasionally,
The frogs repeats one day and one night,
as the Native American folklore says,
brother sun agreed and the bear hibernated,
the frogs repeat one day and one night,
it may not be alive the next day,
unnecessary croaking,
is being heard by something,
that slithers and hungry,
its croaking showed its presence,
right to the mouth of that reptile.
In the middle of the meetings,
some of us croak to show our presence,
Croak the wrong information,
out of our peanut brains,
sometimes we croak in the viva verse,
mostly something the invigilators unaware,
fail us then and there,
keeping quiet, sometimes good,
people assume that we know many things,
Politicians croak,
clergies croak,
our teachers croak,
our parents croak,
our children croak,
you and I croak,
our nature make us to croak,
most of the times we get caught,
because we croak a lot.
poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
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Frogs in chorus
The chorus frogs in the big lagoon
Would sing their songs to the silvery moon.
Tenor singers were out of place,
For every frog was a double bass.
But never a human chorus yet
Could beat the accurate time they set.
The solo singer began the joke;
He sang, "As long as I live I'll croak,
Croak, I'll croak,"
And the chorus followed him: "Croak, croak, croak!"
The poet frog, in his plaintive tone,
Sang of a sorrow was all his own;
"How shall I win to my heart's desire?
How shall I feel my spirit's fire?"
And the solo frog in his deepest croak,
"To fire your spirit," he sang, "eat coke,
Coke, eat coke,"
And the chorus followed him: "Coke, coke, coke!"
The green frog sat in a swampy spot
And he sang the song of he knew not what.
"The world is rotten, oh cursed plight,
That I am the frog that must set it right.
How shall I scatter the shades that lurk?"
And the old man bullfrog sang, "Get work,
Work, get work,"
And the chorus followed him: "Work, work, work!"
The soaring spirits that fain would fly
On wings of hope to the starry sky
Must face the snarls of the jealous dogs,
For the world is ruled by its chorus frogs.
poem by Andrew Barton Paterson
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Frog For a Day
When we croak,
were dead,
on the other hand,
when a frog croaks
he speaks to
nature and is
so cheerful,
When we croak
were silent, and so
still, not cheerful
at all.
Frogs are always
croaking and so
happy,
People are always
croaking and so
sad.
For once it would
be nice to be
a frog for a day.
wrote 4-9-07
dogs and frogs
wail and croak through staring nights
haunting insomnia
quote by by Indira Babbellapati
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Frogs in Love
The bogs are damp with almost too much rain -
By night, the frogs have returned once again,
For November; it is the time they mate,
But why O why our backyard populate?
Perhaps they feel it's romantic: the smoke,
The chill, the wet; relentlessly they croak!
Dear God! Why let the bogs with tall grass grow?
Or teach a colony of frogs to Love?
poem by Dinesh Sairam
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The Tinker Of Words The Imagist At Work
early dawns
are stressed frogs
they cannot sing
their croaking throats
there is simply
no rain here
they change themselves
into poets
to demean you and
what you do
they swim in the
air (as there is no water
here yet
as there is no rain
and that is
logical enough
to understand)
and the birds
laugh
their tongues are as small
as a punctuation mark
of their
poems
that croak like a frog
as i watch all these
from the hammock
that mocks
i fall into a deep sleep
like Alice
into the big hole
of my
indignant indifference
pure imagination
seeking the support of logic
yet hollow still
because there is really
no one there
nothing human
like a friend.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Rain (Ya-du)
Every where croak
came the frogs out
earth soaked water
saw in morning
first rain was heavily raining.
Filled ponds and tanks
river banks lost
fields sank in water
excess of rain
flooded whole terrain.
Glided farmers
saw better rain
there hoped for good
vegetation
they can grow in the season.
poem by S.D. Tiwari
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Sick Frog
OK, it’s not something I ate
or my youthful wild days
catching up with me;
no – it’s not me taking turns to be
grumpy, and jumpy and mean-looking;
no, it’s not me dissatisfied with
my place in the food chain
or my place in the wild scheme of things;
or just being unhappy about the effects on me
in the wild accidents of evolution
or being a victim of Irrational Creation
or just unhappy in an existential sort of way
asking questions like:
What’s the meaning of it all?
Or
Is there a Heaven for Frogs
or are we just Dinner for the French?
and finding it all a Cruel Joke played on us frogs
by some Celestial Omnipotent Frog Being;
no, nor is it for want of sexual partners -
I mean I do croak-sing well enough
and I mount well enough
and get partners often enough during the mating season;
no, it’s not that at all…
I don’t know…I’m just a frog and it’s the nature of frog existence, I guess…
poem by Raj Arumugam
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Miss Tweety
Miss tweety
looking killingly pretty
oh! What a pity!
To think we were colleagues!
Smarter!
But now she says i inspire her!
Miss tweety..
Of course i'm nervous!
like a pimply teenager getting his first kiss
though i'm a second kisser.
Miss tweety!
You and i
share this gift-curse
oh! You say i'm your inspirer?
Well, my dear missy...
I say you are my immortalizer!
So please make history with my name for the
sake of our lust!
Lust?
Of course lust!
Lust for floating butterflies
lust for sweet smelling flowers
lust for the buzz-buzz of bees
and croak-croak of the frogs
lust for the words
lust for life! ! !
Miss tweety!
Yes!
You!
With two 350watts halogen bulbs sitting a-
top your button nose..
Oh! how tall are you now?
Supercatwalking the streets of america
showing them how the yorubas of naija do it!
Miss tweety! Miss tweety!
Don't say i inspire you!
Because, my love
you inspire me!
Miss tweety...
poem by williams 'poeticallyImpaired' ella
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A New Beginning
the rain falls heavily
on the brown fields
the cracks of drought
heal and soften for
a new beginning
the farmer arrives
bringing his plow
the white herons
hover
the frogs croak
the fish are awake after
a long hibernation
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Hanging Of Levski
O you, my Mother, my Native Land,
Why is your cry so sad and heart-rending!
And you, O Raven, accursed bird,
On whose grave croak you of ill impending?
I know, ah I know, you weep, my Mother,
Because you're a slave in bondage lying,
You weep because your sacred voice
Is a helpless voice in a desert crying.
Weep on, weep on! Near Sofia town
A ghastly gallows I have seen standing,
And your own son, Bulgaria,
There with dreadful force is hanging.
The raven gives its grim hoarse croak,
Dogs yelp, wolves howl, the sky is bleak,
Old men in prayers their God invoke,
Women shed tears, the children shriek.
The winter sings its evil song,
Squalls chase the thistles in the plain,
And cold and frost and hopeless tears
Wring and twist your heart with pain.
poem by Khristo Botev
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Two Frogs
two frogs
agree to take shelter
on a lone leaf
under a heavy rain
they swear
to croak together
after a storm
they swear
to always live
and love
together
what is perfect
is just between them
on a very small pond
just fit for the two
of them
and they both
live happily ever after
and then
the tadpoles
come
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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A Bird’s-Eye View
'Croak, croak, croak,'
Thus the Raven spoke,
Perched on his crooked tree
As hoarse as hoarse could be.
Shun him and fear him,
Lest the Bridegroom hear him;
Scout him and rout him
With his ominous eye about him.
Yet, 'Croak, croak, croak,'
Still tolled from the oak;
From that fatal black bird,
Whether heard or unheard:
'O ship upon the high seas,
Freighted with lives and spices,
Sink, O ship,' croaked the Raven:
'Let the Bride mount to heaven.'
In a far foreign land,
Upon the wave-edged sand,
Some friends gaze wistfully
Across the glittering sea.
'If we could clasp our sister,'
Three say, 'now we have missed her!'
'If we could kiss our daughter!'
Two sigh across the water.
Oh, the ship sails fast
With silken flags at the mast,
And the home-wind blows soft;
But a Raven sits aloft,
Chuckling and choking,
Croaking, croaking, croaking:—
Let the beacon-fire blaze higher;
Bridegroom, watch; the Bride draws nigher.
On a sloped sandy beach,
Which the spring-tide billows reach,
Stand a watchful throng
Who have hoped and waited long:
'Fie on this ship, that tarries
With the priceless freight it carries.
The time seems long and longer:
O languid wind, wax stronger;'—
Whilst the Raven perched at ease
Still croaks and does not cease,
One monotonous note
Tolled from his iron throat:
'No father, no mother,
But I have a sable brother:
He sees where ocean flows to,
And he knows what he knows, too.'
A day and a night
They kept watch worn and white;
A night and a day
For the swift ship on its way:
For the Bride and her maidens
—Clear chimes the bridal cadence—
For the tall ship that never
Hove in sight for ever.
On either shore, some
Stand in grief loud or dumb
As the dreadful dread
Grows certain though unsaid.
For laughter there is weeping,
And waking instead of sleeping,
And a desperate sorrow
Morrow after morrow.
Oh, who knows the truth,
How she perished in her youth,
And like a queen went down
Pale in her royal crown:
How she went up to glory
From the sea-foam chill and hoary,
From the sea-depth black and riven
To the calm that is in Heaven?
They went down, all the crew,
The silks and spices too,
The great ones and the small,
One and all, one and all.
Was it through stress of weather,
Quicksands, rocks, or all together?
Only the Raven knows this,
And he will not disclose this.—
After a day and year
The bridal bells chime clear;
After a year and a day
The Bridegroom is brave and gay:
Love is sound, faith is rotten;
The old Bride is forgotten:—
Two ominous Ravens only
Remember, black and lonely.
poem by Christina Georgina Rossetti
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A Frog's Just A Frog
Of the complexities of Nature how can one explain
Who can tell of the workings of the amphibian's brain
Why he often does sing in the wind and the rain
His song more like a croak in the watery drain
A frog's just a frog as many do say
Those who dismiss Nature in their arrogant way
Our connection to Nature they do seem to miss
But I envy them their ignorance since ignorance is bliss
About Nature as me as much they do know
I have lived many Seasons but with little to show
In knowledge of Nature others I lag behind
But an expert on Nature perhaps one could not find
A frog's just a frog you will hear many say
But frogs are so complex in their secretive way.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Darkness Awakens Into Spring
Dreary cold Days are gone
Awesome how the trees begin budding
Ravishing is the beauty the
Easter lilies along the fences
Caddy dids and crickets begin
There Sweet Song as the
Darkness awakens into Spring
Now the birds are beginning to
build there nest high in the trees
Preparing for there young
Every now and then you can hear a
Frogs Croak and a big ribit
From time to time sweet smell of
spring is in the air as the
Darkness awakens into Spring
Angelic is the spring air
Wonderful how the tree and flowers
Awaken to the suns beautiful light
As I am sitting here in my window
I watch as a little family of Cardinals
begin to make the trees in my
Back yard there home every year
They return here to build their
nest for their young
As the Darkness Awakens Into Spring
By Melissia Ann Senter
poem by Melissia Ann Senter
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The White Lily
By the river bank
The frogs croak and caress
Hoping along the river bank
From here to there
At a distant
The swallows twitter with fondness
The lilies rupture with the morning sun
The water reeds sway
As the wind blows along
The river bank
But yet....i feel lost
In this scenery of dexteric desires
I feel caught in lifes pedestals
Tender steps i make....
Along the river bank...
Lilies..
The white lily...
That symbolise
The purity of those souls
Enmeshed in lovesframe
The white lily
That symbolise
The fire that burns within circles
The white lily that symbolises
Long lost desires
Re-invented and rejuvenated
In this river of dexteric desires
The white lily
So white...so pure...
By the river bank
I watch the white lily float and dance
Along the river waters
Their is tenderness in the river
The fishes swim with tenderness
The waters flowing
With a lovers moan
Rythmic drums can be heard from afar
Magic everywhere
I sit and stare at the white lily
With a longing yen....
By the river bank.
poem by Jack Shaka
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The Sound Of The Rain
do not mislead me with the
point-of-view of the frog
you croak and you say this
is how something beautiful
sounds, how ugliness feigns
i tell you i like the rain and
the frog likes it too, i am
one of those frogs bathing
and jumping on the pond,
but do not mislead me with
your sound, it does not sound
like the hush of the wind,
it has no color of the moon,
i am one of the frogs of this
pond, but i do not wish to
sound like you: i am in love
with the sound of the rain,
and this is the one that makes
me stay. It is not you, your
sound is not gentle, it is
rough like the skin of the
teething toad. I love the
rain, the way it sounds,
and that is enough
for my suffering.
Dripping.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Subterranean for M lady Deana
Cascades of crystal water flow
into the waiting pool below.
The force and power of the descent
Renders the water turbulent.
Although hemmed in by rocky walls,
the pool beneath the water falls
is never known to overflow.
I wonder where the waters go.
Far, far away a river flows.
I have been told by one who knows.
Its source is that same rocky pool
which send its waters clear and cool
By secret streams deep underground
to where an exit can be found
A pathway to the world outside
to form a river deep and wide.
Close by its brink I sit and think
as shy wild creatures come to drink.
His explanation could be true
a train of thought which I pursue.
At last I find I must accept
this rather startling new concept
Which solves for me a mystery
I need no longer wonder why.
That distant pool won’t overflow
it has some outlet down below.
Which sets the pent up waters free
to run swiftly and secretly.
Through passages unknown to men
until it can emerge again.
Into the light where it can be
a broad stream dreaming placidly.
20-Nov-07
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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I Love You Madly
Love you madly
right or wrong
sounds like a lyric of a song
But since it's so
I thought you oughta know
I love you, love you madly
Better fish are in the sea
Is not the theory for me
And that's for sure
Just like I said before
I love you, love you madly
If you could see the happy you and me
I dream about so proudly
You'd know the breath of spring
That makes me sing
My love song so loudly
Good things come to those who wait
So just relax and wait for fate
To let me see the day you'll say to me
I love you, love you madly
But since it's so
I thought you oughta know
I love you, madly
And that's for sure
Just like I said before
I love you, love you madly
If you could see the happy you and me
I dream about so proudly
You'd know the breath of spring
That makes me sing
My love song so loudly
To let me see the day you'll say to me
I love you madly
(bridge)
Love you madly
right or wrong
sounds like a lyric of a song
But since it's so
I thought you oughta know
I love you, madly
Better fish are in the sea
Is not the theory for me
And that's for sure
Just like I said before
I love you, madly
If you could see the happy you and me
I dream about so proudly
You'd know the breath of spring
That makes me sing
My love song so loudly
Good things come to those who wait
So just relax and wait for fate
To let me see the day you'll say to me
I love you, love you madly
I love you
Love you madly
I love you madly
Oh, I got big eyes for you, baby
song performed by by Ella Fitzgerald
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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