5. None Meat Eater
Deep in the jungle
A young lion roars
Out hunting for lunch
With fresh sharpened claws
His brothers and sisters
Were stalking a deer
It ran away quickly
When he came to near
The skills that he needed
For stalking and stealth
Would need to be found
To be good for his health
He seems somewhat clumsy
Although he was willing
To eat anything
If it didn’t need killing
So he first ate a mango
Then yams he was trying
And became the world’s first
Vegetarian lion
poem by David Threadgold (2008)
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Survival Of The Fittest
When the lion roars and makes himself heard
all in the jungle shall listen
As he stalks his prey from hunger he feels
on his face his eyes do glisten.
And as he's heard all beasts do scatter
in fear, lest they be prey.
Wildebeasts, gnus and even gazelles
try to get away.
For to end up in the bowels means death
and survival comes to an end.
And the anxious ones who make their escape
nervously make their wend.
Luck was with them on this day
and so they graze and feed,
unaware of when the lion will roar.
They're intent on only their need.
Survival of the fittest in every jungle
reminds me of how we act.
For the world at large is just the same
as we are attacked
by the strong and mighty who feast upon
the weakest of all men.
And so the world we are living in
is just like the lion's den.
poem by Edwina Reizer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Mean Ole Lion
(charlie smalls)
Say what you wanna
But i'm here to stay
'cause i'm a mean ole lion
You can go where you're gonna
But don't get in my way
I'm a mean ole lion
You'll be standing in a draft
If you don't hear me laugh
And if you happen to come around
Well, you best not make me frown
For i just might knock you down
I'm a mean ole lion
You know i'm ready to fight
And turn your day into night
'cause i'm a mean ole lion
If you're half bright
You'll detour to the right
From a mean ole lion
All you strangers better beware
This is the king of the jungle here
And if i happen to let you slide
Don't just stand here
Run and hide
You just caught my better side
I'm a mean ole lion
Look,
You better beware
This is the king of the jungle here
And if i happen to let you slide
Don't stand here
Run and hide
You just caught my better side
I'm a mean ole lion
I'm a mean ole lion
song performed by by Diana Ross
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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(I'm A) Mean Ole Lion
(Charlie Smalls)
Say what you wanna
But I'm here to stay
'Cause I'm a mean ole lion
You can go where you're gonna
But don't get in my way
I'm a mean ole lion
You'll be standing in a draft
If you don't hear me laugh
And if you happen to come around
Well, you best not make me frown
For I just might knock you down
I'm a mean ole lion
You know I'm ready to fight
And turn your day into night
'Cause I'm a mean ole lion
If you're half bright
You'll detour to the right
From a mean ole lion
All you strangers better beware
This is the king of the jungle here
And if I happen to let you slide
Don't just stand here
Run and hide
You just caught my better side
I'm a mean ole lion
Look,
You better beware
This is the king of the jungle here
And if I happen to let you slide
Don't stand here
Run and hide
You just caught my better side
I'm a mean ole lion
I'm a mean ole lion
song performed by by Diana Ross
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Wife is not a stone flower
A husband is, as it should be, the first
Immigrant of his wife’s flesh.
He believes, as it should be, to be the only migrant to her soul.
A prowling lion in him dies as she turns a stone flower.
When he strokes her chin, his mind wanders elsewhere.
When he disturbs her morning sleep it is for his bed-coffee.
He treats her the way a seasoned priest does the idol.
She is not a deer to a lion, to lie as soulless, listless.
Maybe some prowling lion would step in to plunder her.
Ask her why she takes a libertine,
Whether his are palms or claws,
Whether his fingers fork or hoe, how she,
A mouse, bears him, a lion.
To assuage the world and herself that she is
Not a stone flower, she does so.
21.11.2002
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Dead Lion
Lion died
And dead lion
Came to me crying
Dead lion wanted to know
so many thing about life.
I am not here
To told about
Lion's history
Or geography of the area
Where lion was.
Dead lion
I found within
My house my country
Lion was enchanted
on the scene here
Even after death
That much I knew.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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In jungle, only the lion dies of old age. The other animals are dying eaten by lion.
aphorism by Paul Louis Lampert from Men's Health Magazine (June 2010)
Submitted by Simona Enache
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Journey With Animals
Child: Lion, Lion, do you know
Where is your den?
Lion: Yes, I know
My den is straight to the jungle
Child: Deer, Deer, what you
Eat for dinner?
Deer: I eat grass,
Green grass
Child: Rabbit, Rabbit,
What do you do?
Rabbit: I jump and jump
Till my house reach
Child: Turtle, Turtle, when enemy comes
What you will do?
Turtle: I will keep my head
Inside the shell
Child: Thank you animal friends
For answering my questions.
--------
By: Sansita Ramachandran
poem by Sansita Ramachandran
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Bias
even when the lion
smiles at us
we still withhold
confidence
even if the lion is
sincere
and does not think of
evil
like eating all of us
as prey
we always think of
the worst
even if it is just a picture
of the lion
smiling at us
we still suspect
that this can be a trap
another deception
a lion is a lion is a lion
and will always be lion
no matter what
as simple as that
ask the wind
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Hippo and Friends
hush hush the lion sleeps
hush hush the lion keeps
one eye open the other closed
the jungle might be awake
hush hush he's got a paw
hush hush or he will roar
the jungle snakes might hiss
a mighty lion might move
hush hush the lion sleeps
the deepest jungle sleep
Hippo whispers at the edge
his friends are waiting too
©Miroslava Odalovic
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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Time To Fight Back
The humans were encroaching on their hunting ground.
They'd have to send a dire message, which would be found.
They didn't want to fight or start a deadly war.
They were only three Shewolves, but were used to gore.
The humans always came in groups of two or more.
To kill just one human would be a grueling chore.
They tracked and they stalked for the perfect time to strike.
The humans all looked, moved, conversed and smelled alike.
They stunk, built fires, and trashed the ancient hunting ground.
Some stayed riverside, precious gold was to be found.
That was the venue to attack the greedy crews.
They didn't need more reasons to light their short fuse.
At night was the best time for a killing attack.
They needed to be cunning and not leave a track.
They didn't fear these beings, to fail was to die.
They had to fight for what was theirs, or at least try.
They waited for a waning moon for this great feat.
Strike with cruel force and like lightning, Death they must cheat.
They crept with stealth; soon the two miners were in sight.
They slept sound, without the smallest tremor of fright.
The trio struck quickly, and took one by the throat.
They drug him to the river and knew he would float.
It was a soundless kill, and the other slept on.
He awoke in the dawn with a stretch and a yawn.
He called for his partner and longtime hunting mate.
He wasn't worried yet, in his slow sleepy state.
While cooking breakfast he began to worry some.
He looked around now, and spotted a severed thumb.
There was no other sign of a struggle in camp.
Now the sweat started to bead, and his hands grew damp.
He grabbed his loaded rifle and a bunch of shells.
He wouldn't give up without many shouts and yells.
Weeks would be gone, before the lone miner was through.
He packed their belongings, and loaded their canoe.
He took the single thumb, now long turned grey and hard.
He would keep this memento, his mind always scarred.
Their home was filled with the smell of flesh quite rotten.
The miners were gone now, but never forgotten.
Hunting and stalking and killing were their real knack.
Now was the place, and now was the Time to Fight Back.
poem by J.B. LeBuert
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Alpha
The woman you are.
Would you like to
to be a peacock with a terrible mane,
to be a lion with a view of roe deer,
to be a roe deer with a lion's claws?
Alpha male.
The woman you are.
Would you like to
to be ravishing blond
with cover of superman
or dark-eyed Chikita with
Pancho Villa sombrero?
Alpha male.
The woman you are.
You would like to
to be crying princess
reading my letter,
to be proud holder
of wreath yours sonnets
Alfa poets.
poem by Jankovic Zoran
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The Lion II
I am the lion of Africa!
But, living in the jungle of peace;
I do spring out with my tail for many to follow,
However, i do speak tendering words with my lover.
The lion!
Life is guided by the muse of love;
And like where peace, unity and joy do live.
Sow on my land and enjoy the fruits of your labour! !
For, i am living in the jungle of love;
And, i want to care for you.
I am living in the jungle of peace with lot of visions,
In the very place of mystery!
But, with a secret journey to reach out to your heart;
For, i am the lion of Africa and,
I am ready to share my jungle with you.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Edge Of The Night
The lion lurks as daylight dims
Still draped with golden mane,
Subservient now to hunter's whims
From which he won't refrain.
For hunger grows from deep within,
His life is on the line
And so his hunting must begin,
With cold skills to refine...
His eyes adjust to black night views,
His ears hear near and far...
No tiny meal could he refuse,
No creature could he bar...
The darkness hangs there like a shroud,
Engulfing all below...
The only light God has allowed
Is moonlight still aglow...
Its moonshine lends night victims hope,
The chance to run and hide,
The chance to flee, survive and cope
With fear, eyes open wide...
The lion's strong, the lion's fast,
Determined to succeed,
That's why before this night has passed,
He'll feast through stealth and speed...
Denis Martindale, copyright, February 2011.
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Edge Of The Night'.
More Stephen Gayford poems here:
denis-martindale-dot-blogspot-dot-com
poem by Denis Martindale
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A Tiger
Life as a tiger would be prowling around
Hunting swiftly without making a sound
Black and orange stripes falls across his skin
Little do you know about the roar it has within
The tiger quickly moves upon to his feet
Searching the jungle looking for something to eat
The lion might be king of the jungle
But the tiger kills and they still stay humble
The rare colours of orange and the black
If He sees pray he’s sure to attach
There eyes in night time can see twenty twenty
Black is the colour of death and it has killed plenty
People see tigers as quite violent creatures
But if you dig deep inside you’ll find some peaceful features’
The tiger tooth is white and pointed all around
The lion is called the king but the tiger should be crowned
So when you see a tiger
And you don’t feel very prepared
Just have a read of this poem
Then you wont feel that more scared
By Chizom Okpara and my freind Sami Amusan
poem by Chizom Okpara
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Cant Tame The Lion
In the midst of a dream I swear I saw you... standing there
In a sea of emotion with faithful devotion... you were there
In heat of the night under the street lights... once again
At the edge of the fire for the love of the jungle... again and again, oh yeah
They cant tame the lion
Cant tame the lion
They cant tame the lion
One night in detroit, yes I swear I saw you... standing there
In a summer of dreams down by the river... you were there
I remember... its all so clear
In the midst of a dream, yes I swear I say you... standing there
They cant tame the lion
Cant tame the lion
They cant tame the lion
In the midst of a dream I swear I saw you... standing there
In a sea of emotion with faithful devotion... you were there
I remember... its all so clear
In the embers of reckless years
In the midst of a dream I swear I saw you... standing there
They cant tame the lion
Cant tame the lion
They cant tame the lion
At the edge of the fire, for the love of the jungle
They cant tame the lion
Cant tame the lion
They cant tame the lion
song performed by by Journey
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Lion's Roar
In the jungle, a lion's roar,
Loud rumbling from it's core.
Magnificent mane of golden brown,
He is a king but wears no crown.
Predator and enemy they have two,
Human hunters, Hyenas too.
The lion and his lioness pride,
If you cross them, run, don't hide.
The roar of a Lion,
The rolling sound of thunder,
The chase of a Lion,
His prey runs asunder.
The Lion's roar is his symbol,
Of Strength, Of Leadership, Of pride,
The raw Roar sound is tribal,
His pride, so true, abide.
The Lion in The Corner of My Room
There is a lion
in the corner of my room
He roars viciously
aggressively
But I am not scared
His presence
confusing
So with curiosity
I stare
As a boy
I am comfortable
with this midnight lion
with this teacher
who teaches:
'In life threatening danger,
to lose your life
should not be a
care.'
He roars a extraordinary truth
that I am extraordinary myself
Who else would accept his presence
in the corner of their room?
I am a man now
But I can still remember
that childhood friend
And I hope
when I sleep
I'll encounter
The Lion
in the corner of my room
once again
poem by Justin Tallman Gonzalez
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He that fought the lion must surely have the lion's claws in his body.
Lion
LION
A MAN WALKED DOWN A LONELY AVENUE AND SUDDENLY HE SAW A LION! HE RAN OFF SHOUTING AT THE TOP OF HIS VOICE! LION! LION! !
AND A MAN SITTING AT A CORNER KIOSK HEARD HIM SHOUTING LION! LION! ! AS HE RAN PAST THE CORNER KIOSK! WHAT A WAY TO CALL TO THY PET! I ALSO HAVE A DOG NAMED TIGER! STATED THE MAN!
poem by Overlord Don Manuel Ihcakeyno
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Vengeful Psychic
There once was a psychic who loved to chat,
She made up lies to Christina, saying this or that.
See, psychic needed more money and she wanted revenge,
So she started telling lies to all of Christina's friends.
Then of course she told Christina the biggest lie of all,
She told Christina to date Skunky and suck on his balls.
Skunky was of course the worst creep Christina had ever met,
He was a liar, a cheat and even did theft.
But in the end, Skunky became the psychic’s friend…
Stalking her on the internet.
Then of course psychic didn’t know,
She emailed Skunky photos of her 'island with no snow'.
But as soon as Skunky telephoned psychic a thousand times X 2,
She quickly ended it with Skunky and said they were through.
Now, Skunky had no redeeming qualities as of yet,
But his stalking the psychic made Christina very upset,
And it made Christina think “who is the one I’m worse off to have met?
Well, they are both really scummy just the same,
Playing on Christina’s good heart like a volleyball game.
But Christina won out over both of them,
Making rhyming peeve poems is the best revenge.
Written on Jan.20,2011 by Christina Sunrise
Copyright 2011 Chevalier Originals, Inc.
poem by Christina Sunrise
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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