En.Citatepedia^®.ro

Of Hopping And Of Hoping

a kangaroo hops
perhaps finding discomfort
on the grass below its feet
or sensing danger
of the strange sound around
it hops
and hopes for something better
on the other hill

i sit here
unable to hop like this silly kangaroo
sensing my gaze
as a dangerous haze

does it ever know
how hopping can destroy
hope that does not know
how to hop?

i hope for some better things
in my life
i will take chances under these trees
resetting some leaves
and twigs
to see the skies
and the sun that must
this morning rise

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

To Mary Ruefle, poet

and since you're an
American Poet or
a poet writing in English
or however you might put this
in a cv which you'll surely
never need being unique
and therefore beyond all
job descriptions except poet

since you're, well, those things or
that thing
you may never have seen
a kangaroo (and in a zoo
they can't hop..)
but if you do you'll recognise it
when I say it - your mind
is metaphorically, and no-one
handles metaphors like you do may I say,
like a kangaroo - huge hops
off into the horizon of thought
with what in marsupial body-language
may be bounding, boundless
joy

a kangaroo which might in the world
of your poems which I can't hope
to imitate but I'll have a go,
be carrying a baby roo in its pouch with
its head sticking out
and a backward glance towards you
who one day will return grown-up
with a crumpled poem
in its own pouch
addressed to Mary Ruefle
mentioning in passing
immortality

poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

The Cockatoo and the Kangaroo

The happy cockatoo asked the hopping kangaroo,
“Does everyone in your family have a purse like you? ”
The hopping kangaroo stopped and smiled at the bird,
Saying, “Calling it a pouch would be a better word.”
The happy cockatoo was interested in learning more
And asked, “A pouch? Please tell me what it’s for.
The kangaroo explained that she had become a mother.
This pouch was the home of this new precious other.

Out of the pouch the precious baby popped his head;
Looked at the cockatoo with a funny smile and said,
“You make me very nervous Mr. Happy Cockatoo.
Flying in the air with those arms on top of you.”
Mother kangaroo said, “Don’t be afraid of such things.
Since this cockatoo is a bird, those are called wings.
Just as we kangaroo hop on our legs to get around,
The cockatoo uses its wings to fly above the ground.”

The cockatoo said, “I guess it’s like my nest in the tree
Where I lay and hatch my eggs, then raise my family.”
Your ways seem strange. It’s different from what I see.
Though when I get to know you, you’re a lot like me.
We both have our babies and help them find their way
So they can love and raise their own families another day.
It’s this love we all share that shines brightly as a flame
Whether pouch, feather or wing, we’re all much the same.”

poem by Gregory Huyette
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

The Duck and the Kangaroo

Said the Duck to the Kangaroo,
'Good gracious! how you hop!
Over the fields and the water too,
As if you never would stop!
My life is a bore in this nasty pond,
And I long to go out in the world beyond!
I wish I could hop like you!'
Said the Duck to the Kangaroo.

'Please give me a ride on your back!'
Said the Duck to the Kangaroo.
'I would sit quite still, and say nothing but 'Quack',
The whole of the long day through!
And we'd go to the Dee, and the Jelly Bo Lee,
Over the land, and over the sea;
Please take me a ride! O do!'
Said the Duck to the Kangaroo.

Said the Kangaroo to the Duck,
'This requires some little reflection;
Perhaps on the whole it might bring me luck,
And there seems but one objection,
Which is, if you'll let me speak so bold,
Your feet are unpleasantly wet and cold,
And would probably give me the roo-
Matiz!' said the Kangaroo.

Said the Duck, 'As I sat on the rocks,
I have thought over that completely,
And I bought four pairs of worsted socks
Which fit my web-feet neatly.
And to keep out the cold I've bought a cloak,
And every day a cigar I'll smoke,
All to follow my own dear true
Love of a Kangaroo!'

Said the Kangaroo, 'I'm ready!
'All in the moonlight pale;
'But to balance me well, dear Duck, sit steady!
'And quite at the end of my tail!'
So away they went with a hop and a bound,
And they hopped the whole world three times round;
And who so happy - O who,
As the Duck and the Kangaroo?

poem by Edward Lear
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

A Little Bird

a little brown bird
walks on the ground
hops like a kangaroo
unable to fly

it fell from the tree
from a nest
on wings still not fit
for flying

i try to pick it up
and i hear a bird chirping
watching

oh, a mother
perhaps...

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Hopes in Hopes

Hopes in Hopes

Hopes! what is this thing i hope for? is it a fantasy or a trick played by my mind.... at night i hope for things i imagined would someday become reality,
I hope that my imagination becomes reality, I hope that i dont have to hope to get the things i want.

But hopping in high expectation takes you a step forward, Hopes! , dreams are buit on hope, every moment i hope, i cant stop hopping! , but i cant help to think that hopes makes a person archived greater things, it helps a person think high, it helps a person taking higher step in life.

i hope this will be useful to people who hopes to find thier expectations, hopes are your dreams.
M.O

poem by Martin Onyesom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Goldenrod Suite

In a field of
grasshopper heat
of
the pride
the prone
of
the all that
is forever gone
of
crow hops-hops-hops
down a bug
of
a bridge I built
across the creek
of
frogs that
take a peek
of
overhead
an eagle soars
of
a mouse
fast in the grass
of
cattails
around the pond
of
a snake, branched
hanging on
of
upon seeing me
falls and is gone
of
a sea golden
and green
of
sadly seeing
yesterday's dream

poem by Midnights Voice
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

The Wild Kangaroo

The rain-clouds have gone to the deep -
The East like a furnace doth glow;
And the day-spring is flooding the steep,
And sheening the landscape below.
Oh, ye who are gifted with souls
That delight in the music of birds,
Come forth where the scattered mist rolls,
And listen to eloquent words!
Oh, ye who are fond of the sport,
And would travel yon wilderness through,
Gather - each to his place - for a life-stirring chase,
In the wake of the wild Kangaroo!
Gather - each to his place -
For a life-stirring chase
In the wake of the wild Kangaroo!

Beyond the wide rents of the fog,
The trees are illumined with gold;
And the bark of the shepherd's brave dog
Shoots away from the sheltering fold.
Down the depths of yon rock-border'd glade,
A torrent goes foaming along;
And the blind-owls retire into shade,
And the bell-bird beginneth its song.
By the side of that yawning abyss,
Where the vapours are hurrying to,
We will merrily pass, looking down to the grass
For the tracks of the wild Kangaroo!
We will merrily pass,
Looking down to the grass
For the tracks of the wild Kangaroo.

Ho, brothers, away to the woods;
Euroka hath clambered the hill;
But the morning there seldom intrudes,
Where the night-shadows slumber on still.
We will roam o'er these forest-lands wild,
And thread the dark masses of vines,
Where the winds, like the voice of a child,
Are singing aloft in the pines.
We must keep down the glee of our hounds;
We must ~steal~ through the glittering dew;
And the breezes shall sleep as we cautiously creep
To the haunts of the wild Kangaroo.
And the breezes shall sleep,
As we cautiously creep
To the haunts of the wild Kangaroo.

When we pass through a stillness like death
The swamp fowl and timorous quail,
Like the leaves in a hurricane's breath,
Will start from their nests in the vale;
And the forester,* snuffing the air,
Will bound from his covert so dark,
While we follow along in the rear,
As arrows speed on to their mark!
Then the swift hounds shall bring him to bay,
And we'll send forth a hearty halloo,
As we gather them all to be in at the fall -
At the death of the wild Kangaroo!
As we gather them all
To be in at the fall -
At the death of the wild Kangaroo!

poem by Henry Kendall
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

The Story Of The Hare Who Lost His Spectacles

This is the story of the hare who lost his spectacles.
Owl loved to rest quietly whilst no one was watching. sitting on a
Fence one day, he was surprised when suddenly a kangaroo ran close
By.
Now this may not seem strange, but when owl overheard kangaroo whisper
To no one in particular, ''the hare has lost his spectacles, well, he
Began to wonder.
Presently, the moon appeared from behind a cloud and there, lying on
The grass was hare. in the stream that flowed by the grass -- a
Newt. and sitting astride a twig of a bush -- a bee.
Ostensibly motionless, the hare was trembling with excitement, for
Without his spectacles he was completely helpless. where were his
Spectacles? could someone have stolen them? had he mislaid them? what
Was he to do?
Bee wanted to help, and thinking he had the answer began: ''you
Probably ate them thinking they were a carrot.
''no! interrupted owl, who was wise. ''i have good eye-sight, insight,
And foresight. how could an intelligent hare make such a silly
Mistake? but all this time, owl had been sitting on the fence,
Scowling!
Kangaroo were hopping mad at this sort of talk. she thought herself
Far superior in intelligence to the others. she was their leader;
Their guru. she had the answer: ''hare, you must go in search of the
Optician.
But then she realized that hare was completely helpless without his
Spectacles. and so, kangaroo loudly proclaimed, ''i cant send hare in
Search of anything!
''you can guru, you can! shouted newt. ''you can send him with owl.
But owl had gone to sleep. newt knew too much to be stopped by so
Small a problem -- ''you can take him in your pouch. but alas, hare
Was much too big to fit into kangaroos pouch.
All this time, it had been quite plain to hare that the others knew
Nothing about spectacles.
As for all their tempting ideas, well hare didnt care.
The lost spectacles were his own affair.
And after all, hare did have a spare a-pair.
A-pair.

song performed by by Jethro Tull
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!

Season Of Hope

This is the season of hope
That we are now living in
And there are so my hopes that we have for us
During this seson of hope
We hope to find love
We hope to have peace during this seseon of hope
We hope to be healthy during this season of hope
We hope that we can be happy in our homes during the season of Hope
And we should know that hope will never die for us
So that we must keep on hopping each day that we live our lives here On earth

poem by Aldo Kraas
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Season Of Hope Revised

This is the season of hope
That we are now living in
And there are so my hopes that we have for us
During this seson of hope
We hope to find love
We hope to have peace during this seseon of hope
We hope to be healthy during this season of hope
We hope that we can be happy in our homes during the season of Hope
And we should know that hope will never die for us
So that we must keep on hopping each day that we live our lives here On earth

poem by Aldo Kraas
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Hope Alone

let's not drag this out
everything's in motion
though i've only ever loved you kind
and with devotion
i remember when i met you
and even from the start
i thought one day you'd probably just come home
and break my heart
it's funny what you know
and still go on pretending
with no good evidence
you'll ever see that happy ending
you
looking for your distance
and sensing my resistance
you had to do your will
i
had to learn the hard way
we were just an empty dream too big
for hope alone to fill
i know i'm a dreamer
(i know that i'm a)
so i'll give you that
(dreamer)
still i hope i'm more than just a place
(still i hope i'm more)
you laid your hat
(than a place you laid your hat)
you're a land of secrets
(you are its only)
its only citizen
(citizen)
and though i paid my dues
(though i paid)
i was never allowed in
(i was never allowed in)
and so i am a stranger
(so i am a stranger)
especially today
(especially today)
as i get sad and lonely
and you get your way
you
were looking for your distance
and sensing my resistance
you had to do your will
i
i had to learn the hard way
that we were just an empty dream too big
for hope alone to fill
holding on for change i know
we never stood a chance
(no we never stood a chance)
so i could only wait
and watch you slip right through my hands
(watch you slip right through my hands)
you
were always looking for your distance
and sensing my resistance
you had to do your will
i
i had to learn the hard way
we were just an empty dream too big
for hope alone to fill

song performed by by Indigo Girls
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!

My Hope Is In You

Rise and shine.
Rise above the barriers.
Rise above conspiracy.
Rise, my hope is in you.

I hope for a better day,
Tomorrow...
I hope for a great weather,
Tomoroww...
I hope for joy and success,
Your success.
My hope is in you.
My hope is in you.

I hope peer pressure
Won't mislead you..
I hope you understand,
Fun doesn't mean, ,
VIOLENCE, RISK and DANGEROUS!

I hope you live up,
Not to my expectations,
But to your possible opportunities.

Just be a kid, , ,
And i'll be a caring parent.
Just listen, , ,
And i'll inspire you.

My hope for this country
Is in you.
For you are the future
Of the nation.

Choose education,
Choose alcohol and drug
Free life.
Choose success not sorrow.
Because my hope is in you.
My hope is in you.

Be robust and intrepid,
Be courageous and considerate,
Be wise and focus on your
Future because,
My hope is in you.

poem by Siyabonga A nxumalo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

For I Too Must Leave Just Like Those Birds

the tree in the garden
has died

what we see now are
nothing but twigs without leaves

below are the heaps
of dead leaves
rotting

we have become like them
hopeless for sometime

dry and cracking
light as the wind
drifting like
the cloud

empty, hollowed by the
mourning of our arid
days

dragging nights
lifeless on a very cold wood
for a bed

one morning some yellow sparrows
with thin long black beaks
hover upon those twigs

and the dead tree even for
the moment has assumed
life

upon a borrowed hope only
for that brief moment

until then when all the sparrows
fly away again
taking with them all the songs
that you hear

you learn the tune from those
thin black and long beaks
and you must compose a song
for yourself

borrowing hope from hope
putting those leaves back
on your
imaginary trees

you must tell me
about the will to live

for i too must leave
and be a part of somewhere else

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

I once saw an albino kangaroo,
Beside a tasmanian devil at the Melbourne zoo!
A koala was there,
While a wombat combed the hair,
Of that snowy white cute kangaroo!

quote by by Robert Edgar Burns
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Mario Parodi

it is now
mario
with his
parody
again
guitar strings
guitar strums
so
so spanish
my ears
jump
with joy
my ears
have kangaroo
feet
jumping with
joy
to the
skies
to the
hills
mario
parodi
and his
spanish notes
jumping like
fleas
from his
spanish guitar

my mind
has kangaroo
feet and jumps
and jumps
to
a great leap
the
great leap
that
soren
once
had in
norway.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Kangaroo Power

NOW, Yankee inventors can beat a retreat,
And German professors may take a back seat,
For their colours we’re going to lower:
They’ve invented a wonderful plough in the West,
The scientists call it “the latest and best”;
It ploughs, sows, and reaps without taking a rest,
And they drive it by kangaroo power.
Sing hey!
Sing ho!
Then it’s bully for kangaroo power!

O wondrous the changes our children shall meet,
For soon we may travel the principal street
In something far short of an hour.
The traffic shall flow without stoppage or jambs
And sharp little screeches and naughty big damns,
For soon all the hansoms and ’busses and trams
Shall travel by kangaroo power.
Sing hey!
Sing ho!
Then it’s bully for kangaroo power!

Advance, Young Australia, thy banner unfurled,
And jump through the years and astonish the world;
Thou art of all nations the flower.
And Bismarck with envy shall grind his old stumps,
And Yankee inventors shall sit in the dumps,
To see young Australia advancing by jumps,
When driven by kangaroo power.
Sing hey!
Sing ho!
Then it’s bully for kangaroo power!

poem by Henry Lawson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Sweet Solitude

He used to sit on this bench,
still, silent and sad,
no one ever stopped to say hello,
Now he is gone however, natures jigsaw is missing a piece.

Butterflies fluttered overhead,
birds sang beautifull, melancholy tunes,
Squirrels flitted in and out of the trees, playing hide and seek with imaginary friends,
Not today though, they feel the loss.

The air is still today,
tearful, tarnished twigs clutch leaves like a groping beggar,
The cold draws close and darkness looms in the sky above,
The sun sensing somber sorrowful souls will not shine today.

The man who used to sit here has moved on,
Life must continue, that I know,
The eerie silence will be replaced again by laughter,
today however, natures friends remember.

I light a candle to an unknown friend, I hope it lights the way for his eternal, spiritual journey.

poem by Simon Thorpe
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Kangaroo talks to the Sun

Hey Sun, look Man -
I can move around and hop
and I can run around
even at 70km/h;
I can kangaroo fight and kick for a mate
and I can go all across the land -
and you?
All you can do is to spin and spin
and crawl over the sky
and burn and lose all your hair
and burn and show your temper in solar flares

Hey you, Sun, look Man -
I can stand on three using my tail as well
and jump around like a ping pong
and you, all you can do is
to shine and burn and try and look bright.
Hey you, Sun, look Man –
what can you do?

And the Sun
burned hot and showed its temper
and the continent was parched
and heat waves came with fire and smoke
and the creeks and rivers went dry
and the Kangaroo could find no shade;
and then the kangaroo said, with a grin:
Hey God Sun…
you needn’t take my words so seriously, eh?

poem by Raj Arumugam
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

The Milch Kangaroo

'Which reminds me,' said O'Brien
'And 'tis not a word of lyin'
Of a summertime way back in eighty-two,
Whin a felly name of Brady
An' his sister (quite a lady)
Ran a dairy up beyant in Wallaloo.
But, in place of cows like Bossy
An' Strawberry and' Flossie,
It was Kangaroo she milked - I'm spakin' true;
While his pretty sister, Mary,
Was the mistress of the dairy,
Of the dairy of the milch Kangaroo.

'Now, his neighbour, name of Cleary,
He was dape in love with Mary
Small blame to him; for sure she was a drame;
But his love he had to smother
'Count of Mary's wealthy brother
Wid his waggon-loads of Kangaroo crame;
For a clever man was Brady,
Tho' some thought his methods shady;
For, in spite of all that they could say or do,
'Twas the thing he kept concealin',
Past the hope of all revealin',
Was his secrit of the milch Kangaroo.

For he milked them by the dozens;
Not the Fiend and all his cousins
Could discover how he kep' the bastes in bounds.
Then Tim Cleary, thinkin' deeply,
Wint and purchased rather cheaply,
Half a dozen savage Kangaroo hounds.
For 'twas ruination utter
That this Brady and his butter
Meant to every single soul in Wallaloo.
'An' he's overworin' Mary,'
Muttered Cleary, 'wid his dairy
Wid his dairy of the milch Kangaroo.'

'Well, you've guessed it,' said O'Brien;
'For, widout a word of lyin',
Brady's flocks an' herds were scattered far an' wide;
An' 'twas aisy Cleary found him,
Wid his drames in tatters round him,
Whin he came to claim swate Mary for his bride.'
Said O'Brien: 'That's the story;
An' I here declare to glory,
Every single, blessed word of it is thrue.
An', if any would misdoubt me,
I've a par of fists about me
To convince yez of the milch Kangaroo.'

poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

A Roo

A large, red kangaroo
hopped into a bar on West 47th St.
and ordered a martini.

The bartender, polishing a
glass, really didn't
feel like being inter-active,

but ever the professional, remarked,
'We don't get many kangaroos
in this place-know what I mean'?

The kangaroo, a little miffed, replied
'No. And at these prices
You're not likely to be getting many more, either'.

poem by Morgan Michaels
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!