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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
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
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Similes For Two Political Characters of 1819
I.
As from an ancestral oak
Two empty ravens sound their clarion,
Yell by yell, and croak by croak,
When they scent the noonday smoke
Of fresh human carrion:--
II.
As two gibbering night-birds flit
From their bowers of deadly yew
Through the night to frighten it,
When the moon is in a fit,
And the stars are none, or few:--
III.
As a shark and dog-fish wait
Under an Atlantic isle,
For the negro-ship, whose freight
Is the theme of their debate,
Wrinkling their red gills the while--
IV.
Are ye, two vultures sick for battle,
Two scorpions under one wet stone,
Two bloodless wolves whose dry throats rattle,
Two crows perched on the murrained cattle,
Two vipers tangled into one.
poem by Percy Bysshe Shelley
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Amphibian Conversation
If to a toad
you spoke
Back to you it
might croak.
A frog in
the pond
Might also
respond.
poem by M.L. Squier
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
It's a Frog's Life
Slimy green and small
A frog's life is no ball
A target for man's jest and joke
A frog will live -
and then he'll croak!
Fairytale Endings
The kingdom of man is a tragic joke,
One we cackle and cry at until we croak,
And fairytale endings don't really exist,
For a frog is a frog even after it's kissed.
poem by Joshua Dinkin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Willy The Bullfrog
There once was a Bullfrog named Willy the Bullfrog
And all that he did was croak on a log
Sitting around and having fun
And when he wanted to, he would soak up some sun.
But Willy knew that those days were almost gone
When he saw a bullet killing a fawn
And then in his pond went cans of beer
Then a bullet killed another deer
Then Willy who was full of fright
He hid away until the dark of the night
Then he gathered all the animals for a meeting
Saying hunters are not killing us for the eating
But because in our body runs blood of red
And because their guns shoots bullets of lead,
Many years ago in this land
GOD gave us life with the wave of his hand
There were foxes and herds, oxen and birds
But now our population is dwindling down to none
Ever since I saw that bullet killing a fawn
Then all the animals began to shed a tear
Because they knew then, they had a lot of fear
They wouldn't be able to play and have any fun
They will always be chased and on the run.
Then Willy sadly hopped back to his pond
The place where he was very fond
Then Willy began to speak again
And behind him snuck a bunch of men.
Willy shouted this kind of life I cannot hack
A spear then came ripping through Willy's back.
There once was a Bullfrog named Willy the Bullfrog
And all that he wanted to do was croak on a log
Sitting around and having fun
And when he wanted to, he would soak up some sun.
But Willy and his friends don't live here anymore
Their home and his pond became a department store
Their homes and their lives they had to give
So people of humanity would have a place to live....
There once was a Bullfrog named Willy the Bullfrog
All that he wanted to do was croak on a log
Sitting around and having fun
And every now and then he would soak up some sun.
RANDY L. McClave
poem by Randy McClave
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
They asked a bullfrog, ""Why do you croak all the time?"" He replied, ""I'm enchanted with my voice.""
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
dogs and frogs
wail and croak through staring nights
haunting insomnia
quote by by Indira Babbellapati
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
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.
Sing Something Sweet
Prythee, sing something sweet to me-you that can play
First and second at once. Then I too will essay
To croak on the pipes: and yon lad shall salute
Our ears with a melody breathed through his flute.
In the cave by the green oak our watch we will keep,
And goatish old Pan we'll defraud of his sleep.
poem by Theocritus
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A Stave Of Roving Tim
(ADDRESSED TO CERTAIN FRIENDLY TRAMPS.)
I
The wind is East, the wind is West,
Blows in and out of haven;
The wind that blows is the wind that's best,
And croak, my jolly raven!
If here awhile we jigged and laughed,
The like we will do yonder;
For he's the man who masters a craft,
And light as a lord can wander.
So, foot the measure, Roving Tim,
And croak, my jolly raven!
The wind according to its whim
Is in and out of haven.
II
You live in rows of snug abodes,
With gold, maybe, for counting;
And mine's the beck of the rainy roads
Against the sun a-mounting.
I take the day as it behaves,
Nor shiver when 'tis airy;
But comes a breeze, all you are on waves,
Sick chickens o' Mother Carey!
So, now for next, cries Roving Tim,
And croak, my jolly raven!
The wind according to its whim
Is in and out of haven.
III
Sweet lass, you screw a lovely leer,
To make a man consider.
If you were up with the auctioneer,
I'd be a handsome bidder.
But wedlock clips the rover's wing;
She tricks him fly to spider;
And when we get to fights in the Ring,
It's trumps when you play outsider.
So, wrench and split, cries Roving Tim,
And croak, my jolly raven!
The wind according to its whim
Is in and out of haven.
IV
Along my winding way I know
A shady dell that's winking;
The very corner for Self and Co
To do a world of thinking.
And shall I this? and shall I that?
Till Nature answers, ne'ther!
Strike match and light your pipe in your hat,
Rejoicing in sound shoe-leather!
So lead along, cries Roving Tim,
And croak, my jolly raven!
The wind according to its whim
Is in and out of haven.
V
A cunning hand 'll hand you bread,
With freedom for your capers.
I'm not so sure of a cunning head;
It steers to pits or vapours.
But as for Life, we'll bear in sight
The lesson Nature teaches;
Regard it in a sailoring light,
And treat it like thirsty leeches.
So, fly your jib, cries Roving Tim,
And top your boom, old raven!
The wind according to its whim
Is in and out of haven.
VI
She'll take, to please her dame and dad,
The shopman nicely shaven.
She'll learn to think o' the marching lad
When perchers show they're craven.
You say the shopman piles a heap,
While I perhaps am fasting;
And bless your wits, it haunts him in sleep,
His tin-kettle chance of lasting!
So hail the road, cries Roving Tim,
And hail the rain, old raven!
The wind according to its whim
Is in and out of haven.
VII
He's half a wife, yon pecker bill;
A book and likewise preacher.
With any soul, in a game of skill,
He'll prove your over-reacher.
The reason is, his brains are bent
On doing things right single.
You'd wish for them when pitching your tent
At night in a whirly dingle!
So, off we go, cries Roving Tim,
And on we go, old raven!
The wind according to its whim
Is in and out of haven.
VIII
Lord, no, man's lot is not for bliss;
To call it woe is blindness:
It'll here a kick, and it's there a kiss,
And here and there a kindness.
He starts a hare and calls her joy;
He runs her down to sorrow:
The dogs within him bother the boy,
But 'tis a new day to-morrow.
So, I at helm, cries Roving Tim,
And you at bow, old raven!
The wind according to its whim
Is in and out of haven.
poem by George Meredith
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!