The Smoking Frog
Three men I saw beside a bar,
Regarding o'er their bottle,
A frog who smoked a rank cigar
They'd jammed within its throttle.
A Pasha frog it must have been
So big it as and bloated;
And from its lips the nicotine
In graceful festoon floated.
And while the trio jeered and joked,
As if it quite enjoyed it,
Impassively it smoked and smoked,
(It could now well avoid it).
A ring of fire its lips were nigh
Yet it seemed all unwitting;
It could not spit, like you and I,
Who've learned the art of spitting.
It did not wink, it did not shrink,
As there serene it squatted'
Its eyes were clear, it did not fear
The fate the Gods allotted.
It squatted there with calm sublime,
Amid their cruel guying;
Grave as a god, and all the time
It knew that it was dying.
And somehow then it seemed to me
These men expectorating,
Were infinitely less than he,
The dumb thing they were baiting.
It seemed to say, despite their jokes:
"This is my hour of glory.
It isn't every frog that smokes:
My name will live in story."
Before its nose the smoke arose;
The flame grew nigher, nigher;
And then I saw its bright eyes close
Beside that ring of fire.
They turned it on its warty back,
From off its bloated belly;
It legs jerked out, then dangled slack;
It quivered like a jelly.
And then the fellows went away,
Contented with their joking;
But even as in death it lay,
The frog continued smoking.
Life's like a lighted fag, thought I;
We smoke it stale; then after
Death turns our belly to the sky:
The Gods must have their laughter.
poem by Robert William Service
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Related quotes
Phileas the Frog
Phileas the frog was awfully large -
To see the muscle in his thighs -
A sight bedazzling to your eyes!
With plenty there to feed a town -
If you would dare to take him down!
Phileas the frog could tow a barge.
One hefty bound could clear a tree -
A scary sight I'll guarantee!
And something else to make me dread:
Were he to land upon my head!
Phileas the frog was known as 'Sarge -'
Accounted by that massive chest.
No other frog would care to jest
That tidy Phileas!
So if you've sense and know your place -
And hold some value to your face,
Then don't get supercilious
With Phileas!
Copyright © Mark Raymond Slaughter 2009
All rights reserved.
Frog frog frog frog frog frog frog frog
Frog frog frog frog frog frog frog frog
Frog frog frog frog frog frog frog frog
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Frog
France and China feed from your demise,
Restaurateurs are not exactly chums,
Oh how they rave about your tender thighs!
Gourmand orders - another frog succumbs…
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2010
frog
frog frog
frog frog
frog frog
frog frog
Frog frog
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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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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A Little Frog
A little Frog could well be
A beating Frog in camouflage
A jumping Frog cold, scary
A poisoning Frog breathing through the skin
An Underwater Frog flooding…
A Drowned heart in love with...
The little Frog.
poem by Florida Angel
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Hop Frog
Well they call me a juicy hop-frog
you can see me in any wood bog
don't you know that they call me the hop-frog
hopping frog
I'm a hop-frog
a hop-frog
they call me the hop-frog
hop, hop-frog
They call me the hop-frog
see me in any wood bog
don't you know that call me a hop-frog
hop-frog
They call me the hop-frog
see me in a wood bog
they're calling me a hop-frog
hop-frog
You can see me in a ballroom
you can see me in a bedroom
you can see me in the woods
hop, hop-frog
They call me the hop-frog
they call you the hop-frog
well they call you the hop-frog
hop, hop-frog
Frog
song performed by by Lou Reed
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Walking The Frog
I have a pet frog
We go frog walking every day at 6pm
He is fine until he sees another frog
He sniffs & then tries to jump
I pull him away
Last week we had a problem
My frog stopped to do his business
A passer bye said stop your frog fouling
I cleared up after him but it left a slimy mark
The other man slipped on it
My frog likes water
Especially ponds
He likes jumping on lilies
The local gardener is mad
Control your frog he shouts
Well now Im in trouble
Despite the sign
Beware of the FROG
He bit a policeman
A fine guard frog
My frog is now banned
From walks anywhere
Poor froggy is in a cell
Eating flies & drinking water
Its a frogs life
poem by Alan Draper
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For Max And Sally
The fly was in the belly yes,
and found therein a frightning mess
the fly was anxious to get out
so he flew wildly all about
the belly of the hungry frog
who sat, still, on that ancient log.
When, wise old owl came passing by
all dressed in suit and green bow tie.
She had the latest Sunday Times
and told the frog to read the rhymes
there, in the section 'Poetry'.
The frog first scratched his bright green knee
and then he told himself 'I need it',
and started chanting 'read it, read it'.
But chanting thus requires bellows
to blow and thus, imprisoned fellows
like flies or other little guys
if they're not dead yet, realise
this happy opportunity
to read the paper and be free.
So, out he went and landed on
the headline of the section Sun
the frog whose eyes at first detected
a movement, (of the just defected)
strained tired eyes and sniffed around
the fly was fearing to be found.
So, quickly he hid under 'S'
the big black letter, that the press
had printed with a lot of ink,
which also still, did have the stink
of chemicals so that the frog
who only lived there near his log
could neither smell nor see the fly
and he forgot, as time went by
all memories of flies for food
since poetry had changed his mood.
Thus you can see the usefulness
of lovely poetry, like this.
poem by Herbert Nehrlich
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The Frog Poem(duh Duh Duhhhhhhhhh)
Leap frog,
Jump frog,
Everywhere you go frog,
Smile frog,
Croak frog,
Everywhere you go frog,
stomp, stomp, stomp
SQUASH! ! !
Bye, bye frog.
A Parable
a frog, always the frog
has always been a frog
servant to the fog, but
one frog one day decides
to be a bull to the dismay
of the frogs in that little pond
to the ridicule of the bulls
nearby but the frog learns
to be a bull and bully has
he become until one day
he gains the respect of the
other bulls to the pleasure
of the sun to the disdain
of the fog on the hills
nothing is impossible
to the power of the mind
this the frog follows
through and through
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Frog
Every frog must croak
That is no joke
Agile is the lowly frog
Eating insects, leaving bugs, mosquitoes agog
They live in water, slime, gook
Ugly, ugly face of a spook
Green, gray or brown, they populate the ground
Frog legs are sold and eaten by the pound
Jump, glide around, sit still
Croak often, loud and shrill
Water is the key to their life
They procreate, sleep, avoid danger, strife
Little or big they struggle to survive
Even a frog is happy to be alive
Some become road kill
Or a snake's belly they fill
They have lived, they have died
Some rot, some are fried
Dissected in the lab by a sharp knife
Warts and all, a vital link in the chain of life
poem by Mahfooz Ali
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Frog In The Log
There once was a handsome green frog
who resided inside an old log.
He had cut two small vents
in the log for defense
but the stork used, as cover, the fog.
And he swallowed the frog in the buff
though just one frog was never enough
for a frog in a log
who can't see in the fog
daily life can be utterly tough.
poem by Herbert Nehrlich
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The Frog and the Lion
A LITTLE FROG WENT OUT ONE DAY
TO HAVE A FROGGIE WALK,
HE SAW A LION ON HIS WAY
AND STOPPED TO HAVE A TALK.
AND THEN THE LION SAID TO HIM,
THERE’S FLIES UPON MY BACK,
AND I AM FEELING PRETTY GRIM
WHILE STANDING IN THIS TRACK.
SO IF YOU CLIMB ABOARD MY FRIEND,
YOU’LL HAVE A LOVELY FEED,
I’LL FLICK MY TAIL SO I CAN SEND
THE FLIES TO FILL YOUR NEED.
SO FROGGIE CLIMED ON LION’S BACK
AND ATE AND ATE AND ATE,
AND LION STOOD UPON THE TRACK
TO WAIT AND WAIT AND WAIT.
ONE DAY LION LOOKED AT FROG
AND SAW HIS EYES WERE DIM,
THEN LET HIM DOWN INTO THE BOG
SO HE COULD HAVE A SWIM.
AND THEN THE FROG CAME BACK AGAIN
THE LION TO ATTEND.
HE CLIMBED BACK IN THE LIONS MANE,
THE LION WAS HIS FRIEND.
AS TIME WENT BY THE FROG GOT FAT.
AND LION WAITED ON.
THEN FROG WAS EATEN BY THAT CAT,
AND SO THE FROG WAS GONE.
THE FROGGIE IN THE LION,
JUST SCHRIVLED RIGHT AWAY.
THE FROG WAS FULL OF POISON.
THE LION DIED THAT DAY.
THE MORAL OF THIS STORY.
IS TWOFOLD, LISTEN ON.
JUST BE VERY CAREFULL,
BEFORE YOUR DAYS ARE GONE.
CHOOSE YOU VERY WISELY
THE FRIENDS WITH WHOM YOU GREET.
AND DON’T BE LIKE THE LION.
BE CAREFULL WHAT YOU EAT
poem by George Savige
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Frog Or Is It A Toad (Fun Poem 22)
The fairy tale says,
that every time you kiss
a frog or is it a toad,
it turns into a prince or a princess,
depending on which story you have heard.
I thought that I would test the theory.
First on a frog, I tried,
but nothing happened there.
Then I grabbed the biggest toad,
gave it a great big kiss as you know.
All I ended up with was a big wart
on the end of my nose.
So if you are looking for a prince or princess,
do not kiss a frog or toad,
because you might end up like me,
with a big wart on the end of your nose.
poem by David Harris
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The Princess and the Frog
A princess was out for her morning jog
When, by the pond, she met a frog.
She grabbed the poor thing by its head:
”It might turn into a prince! ” she said.
She closed her eyes and made a wish,
Then gave the frog a sloppy kiss.
The Princess counted One, Two, Three...
And opened up her eyes to see.
In a blinding flash and clouds of smoke,
The frog became a handsome bloke.
He stared at the princess in dismay
Then turned and ran the other way.
”Wait, my darling. Please! “ she cried.
The handsome prince to her replied:
”Go stick your head in the palace bogs -
”I hate a girl who kisses frogs! ”
poem by Melanie Ann Calvert
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The Frog And The Swan
The swan had flown away,
Far away to the west,
Far away from the east,
Found a place to stay,
With another young swan,
To fill the heart,
Which had always been in dismay.
Forgotten about the frog,
The one who was once a friend,
The shoulder to cry on,
The ear to shout on,
But now it’s all gone.
The swan found a new home,
A home in a special place,
A place way further away from the frog.
And now the frog's down,
All down.
Couldn't croak,
Couldn't hunt down flies,
Couldn't leap.
Only sit down quietly on a special rock,
Where memories they come,
From all corners.
Caught the frog in a dream.
The frog turned dumb,
Mouth was sealed,
Eyes dropped dead,
Because a lot of things were better left unsaid.
poem by Zakk Astoria
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The Friendship Of The Frogs
this the picture of a green frog
with big rolling eyes
like a golf ball
it floats on a lily leaf
beside it a big yellow lily flower
the waters ripple
it is a happy frog of friendship
that my friends sent me an hour ago
and my friend wants it back
in a minute
to assure
that i still want her back
i am thinking like a slimy frog.
shall i send it back or not?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The frog and damsel
My sweet princess, oh how much luv u show to me, a lowly frog, my ugliness doesn't chase u, but charms u..U are not gutted by my look and colur. my croak Is like music in ur head, oh how much I want to jump with my powerful limbs and kiss ur soft lips..
You lied to me, you lovely frog, you deceived me out of your nobility and humanity to believing that you, my handsome frog knows nothing of poetry, I am impressed by ur humility, but most of all I am struck buy my new very genuine need to know you more, maybe a kiss wouldn't hurt, and then I could turn into a beautiful frog, and we can live happily ever after!
poem by Venessa Ambrose
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Enchanting Legend (For Meritxell)
I am the legendary enchanted frog.
But in fact I live a humble, quiet
undemanding and contented life
in what I consider an enchanting bog.
But very long ago a legend was spread
throughout the land about me
by many who do not really know
or care whether a mere frog is alive or dead.
In spite of the lack of any clear evidence,
that legend persists, with its emotive eloquence,
in suggesting that somewhere in some secluded bog
there is a princess looking for an enchanted frog
she knows can only be happy as a disenchanted prince.
poem by Charl Cilliers
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A Frog Named Jo
It must be nice, being a frog on the side of the road.
At least you are more appealing than a toad.
You sit in the grass that matches your jade scales
It seems as though flies fly to you, compelled
To be your delicacy, to be eaten.
And the flies appear gladly beaten.
And all seems in this natural scene
So peaceful and so serene,
And in our cruel world, that is what we see,
‘How Happy ore' others some can be'
But the point that we miss in all of this beauty,
Is that the world is not just for ‘me'
I may have my hard times, and so will you
But somewhere else in the world, someone is suffering too.
Now, as we leave this simple frog to its seeming life of bliss,
We don't ever look back, for it is not something to miss.
This frog had no connection to you
So why should you care what next it will do?
From this place, the frog could be snatched up by a bat
It will feed the bat family, and that will be that.
For some object of little acknowledgement from you
Is now something permanently lost from view.
But that frog could have had a family of its own;
A life, friends, a job, a home.
It seems foolish to think of these characteristics of a frog on the street,
But is it just as foolish as thinking of the people you meet?
All day long, many lives collide,
But we make sure to stand to the side.
In life, we never know what will come next,
All we can do is give every moment our best.
poem by Heidi Fiore
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A Frog Like Me
Ribbit ribbit I am a frog
As pretty as a frog can be
I love to jump from log to log
Come with me and you'll see
Eating bugs is what I do
My legs are kinda short
I promise not to hug or kiss you
Cause that will give you warts
My skin is really bumpy
Not as smooth as yours
Like when your head gets lumpy
From walking into a door
Being a frog can be fun
When swimming with mom and dad
Jump on in and get some sun
Out here on my lilly pad
I never swear or even fight
Thats not the way to be
So now you know what it's like
To be a frog like me
poem by Kevin Seales
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