The Trip
Like an unripe melon
Like a conquer Magellan
Like a handy capped Helen Keller
There is a moonster in the cellar
He has been there since last November
I was once a member-
Of his palace
Until I was hit in the head with a mallet
Creeping along the halls
I have spotted the moonster in conversation with the white rabbit
Me thinks that white rabbit has a nasty habit-
Of being late
Last time they nearly locked the gate
Is his clock too slow?
Or is telling time his foe?
At least the moonster and purple tiger know
Acid is a trip that is not a trick for kids
But the rabbits white hair show great age
Maybe his mind is like that of a mage
I saw him once pull himself out of his own hat
Very impress for a magician with a assistant gnat
He buzzes around the rabbit’s head, a dark shade of blue
The rabbit does not reek, I have seen him use his wife’s shampoo
If I may take the time
I must say for a rabbit his wife is a dime
I even saw her and purple tiger in the shower at the same time
Of course the white rabbit was too late to catch them of this crime
Just then I told the purple tiger not to eat the white rabbit or the Chinese Girl
“She is your world! ”
You just don’t know it and she will not show it
So he devoured the loaf of bread instead
poem by Vincent Dali
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Related quotes
White Angel the Easter Rabbit
Out of a lovely fantasy…..,
She appeared one Springtime day…..,
And made our world……,
So happy in every way……,
It was a vision so wondrous……,
As we colored our eggs…..,
For the Easter Holiday
White Angel, The Easter Rabbit…..,
Brought sunshine to our lives…..,
When it came to joy we had it…..,
White Angel, The Easter Rabbit…..,
She’d hop, hop, hop….,
All day long…..,
Be dancin’ around……,
And singin’ a song…..,
As Easter came so merrily…..,
She was so much fun for us to see……,
White Angel, The Easter Rabbit…..,
Brought sunshine to our lives…..,
Lovin’ her was a tireless habit……,
White Angel, The Easter Rabbit…..,
But poof just like each night and day……,
Her visit soon had to end …..,
So she hop, hop, hopped on her way……,
Off to visit her fairytale friends……,
As we sadly bid farewell to her…….,
She said, “Come on now, don’t cry…..,
I’ll be back again some Easter Day”…..,
White Angel, The Easter Rabbit…..,
Brought sunshine to our lives…..,
When it came to joy we had it…..,
White Angel, The Easter Rabbit…..,
Pure white gold in 24 karat…..,
White Angel, The Easter Rabbit….! ! !
(2011)
poem by Trade Martin
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Let Us Be Friendly With Everybody!
Rabbit and Tortoise
Went for a race;
Envy villain rabbit
Threw the stone at Hero Rabbit;
Hero Rabbit's leg got broken,
Limping Rabbit couldn't run fast!
Hero Rabbit lost the match,
This is how Tortoise won the race.
Lesson is, 'Don't have enmity'
Let us be friendly with everybody!
poem by V.K. Kanniappan
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About Brother Rabbit.
Brother Rabbit and Brother Terrapin wanted to run round a tree.
They went to Brother Bear and asked him to be the referee.
He said to Brother Terrapin, “You win if you’re the first to take the stone! ”
Brother Rabbit ran and won as Brother Terrapin could only go,
He cried, “Brother Rabbit has run, but has he really won?
Look here, my stone’s on me, so I’m number one! ”
When Brother Fox and Brother Rabbit meet,
Brother Fox always tries to eat
Brother Rabbit who often thinks how
To laugh at Brother Fox. Now
Brother Rabbit said, “Have we met, Brother? Hi! ”
“Oh! I haven’t had lunch”, Brother Fox replied.
“But when we yesterday met,
You also said that.
Poor Brother Fox had no lunch,
Then have for it grass or a branch”.
Brother Rabbit’s taught Brother Wolf a lesson.
He’s done it to amuse his little son.
Now, Brother Wolf’s in a cage.
Nothing he can change.
Yesterday he ate meat in a trap,
And Brother Rabbit didn’t let
Him run out, he locked him then,
He taught him and needn’t teach again.
poem by Konstantin Ananin
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Little White Rabbit
While sorting through a drawer
in my old treasure store
I came across a little white rabbit
almost forgotten there,
as I picked it up
my memory danced back
to the person who gave it
to me forty odd years ago.
I could remember her blue eyes,
her shoulder length blonde hair,
and that gentle smile of this lady fair.
She was at one time the love of my life,
long before I met my wife.
My love could not be returned
as she was seeing someone else,
but a friend she was,
and a friend she will always remain,
until my dying breath.
As I look at the little white rabbit,
dreamy eyes I become,
I drift back all those years,
and for a brief second or two.
I smile to myself,
and wrap the little white rabbit up,
putting it back in the drawer,
so I can remember,
that lost long distant love I had once more.
poem by David Harris
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Market Square
I had a penny,
A bright new penny,
I took my penny
To the market square.
I wanted a rabbit,
A little brown rabbit,
And I looked for a rabbit
'Most everywhere.
For I went to the stall where they sold sweet lavender
("Only a penny for a bunch of lavender!").
"Have you got a rabbit, 'cos I don't want lavender?"
But they hadn't got a rabbit, not anywhere there.
I had a penny,
And I had another penny,
I took my pennies
To the market square.
I did want a rabbit,
A little baby rabbit,
And I looked for rabbits
'Most everywhere.
And I went to the stall where they sold fresh mackerel
("Now then! Tuppence for a fresh-caught mackerel!").
"Have you got a rabbit, 'cos I don't like mackerel?"
But they hadn't got a rabbit, not anywhere there.
I found a sixpence,
A little white sixpence.
I took it in my hand
To the market square.
I was buying my rabbit
I do like rabbits),
And I looked for my rabbit
'Most everywhere.
So I went to the stall where they sold fine saucepans
("Walk up, walk up, sixpence for a saucepan!").
"Could I have a rabbit, 'cos we've got two saucepans?"
But they hadn't got a rabbit, not anywhere there.
I had nuffin',
No, I hadn't got nuffin',
So I didn't go down
To the market square;
But I walked on the common,
The old-gold common...
And I saw little rabbits
'Most everywhere!
So I'm sorry for the people who sell fine saucepans,
I'm sorry for the people who sell fresh mackerel,
I'm sorry for the people who sell sweet lavender,
'Cos they haven't got a rabbit, not anywhere there!
poem by Alan Alexander Milne
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The Faces Of God
The black man told me that God's face is black
I argued white but then I took it back
As God may be black and it would seem to me
That God's the colour that one wish to see.
The woman told me that God is a she
I argued with her of course God's a he
But having thought on it I changed my mind
If God was born God came of Woman-kind.
The young girl told me her rabbit's God her rabbit she adore
But I could not agree with her I've heard it all before
But then I thought maybe she's right and who am I to disagree
And perhaps her rabbit may be God if God in him she see.
God may be black or brown or white, god may be he or she,
God may be even young girl's pet if God in him she see,
God's different to most people to every creed and race
And to every Nationality God has a different face.
poem by Francis Duggan
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An Educated Crocodile Is Still A Crocodile
Rabbit
with a habit
lived in a hole
next to Vole.
And his habit was his link with the beginning of it all
and kept him looking different
from his neighbour, Vole.
So they laid a proper treat on,
washed his face and brushed his hair;
and they took him off to Eton
to be educated there.
There, they dressed him in a boater,
smart black jacket, white bow-tie;
and then they took his photo,
just to please his Auntie Vye.
And they fed him on cucumbers,
Wordsworth, Byron, Shelley, Keats.
And they taught him compound numbers
and such intellectual treats.
He learned to say, 'What rot! '
And would ask 'How do you do? '
So they popped him in a pot,
part of a rabbit and rhubarb stew!
(MORAL: AN EDUCATED HABIT IS STILL A RABBIT!)
poem by Brian Taylor
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Run Rabbit Run
Run Rabbit, Run
Some humans, they ain't nuthin' but nuthin'
They all run like scared little rabbits
Run Rabbit, Run.
Run Rabbit.
RUN RABBIT, RUN!
Run, run, run, run, run, run, run, run
Run, run, run, run, run, run, run, run
Run, run rabbit, run away, run away
Run, run rabbit, run away, run away
Let me get her, I know what to do
Let me get her, I know what to do
Run, run rabbit, run away
Hey, hey, hey, hey
A child so pure, dyin' in the clutch
A child so pure, down in the hush
Run, run rabbit, run away
Hey, hey, hey, hey
Hey yeah, hey it's alive
Hey yeah, hey I survive
Hey yeah, hey it's alive
Hey yeah, hey I survive
Mary, mary ain't this fun?
Mary, mary I got a gun
Run, run rabbit, run away
Hey, hey, hey, hey
Let me get her, I know what to do
Let me get her, I know what to do
Run, run rabbit, run away
Hey, hey, hey, hey
Hey yeah, hey it's alive
Hey yeah, hey I survive
Hey yeah, hey it's alive
Hey yeah, hey I survive
song performed by by Rob Zombie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Natures Corse
There's a frog
on a log
who croaks at
a rabbit with
the habit.
The rabbit see's
her friend deer
who has the fear
of a human and
a steer,
While walking beside
the river the deer gets a
shiver
so he runs in a local
bush.
He see's the rabbit
out there and
breathing in the freash
air.
poem by Valerie Aker
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A Big Black Rabbit
A big black rabbit passed right under the moon
On great dark wings to soar and swoon.
I called, “Oh great black rabbit where are you off? ”
An old fool beside me did chuckle and cough
“That’s just a raven, which is only a bird.”
The old man drew out slowly each word.
But it was a rabbit that I saw soaring,
My cause for assurance is birds are boring.
poem by Matt Johnston
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Winter's Approach
DE sun hit shine an' de win' hit blow,
Ol' Brer Rabbit be a-layin' low,
He know dat de wintah time a-comin',
De huntah man he walk an' wait,
He walk right by Brer Rabbit's gate —
He know —
De dog he lick his sliverin' chop,
An' he tongue 'gin' his mouf go flop, flop—
He —
He rub his nose fu' to clah his scent
So's to tell w'ich way dat cotton-tail went,
He —
De huntah's wife she set an' spin
A good wahm coat fu' to wrop him in
She —
She look at de skillet an' she smile, oh my!
An' ol' Brer Rabbit got to sholy fly.
poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
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The Usual Story...
and then the problem comes
after the meeting of the
the turtle and the rabbit
after the winning and the losing
to each priority
the rabbit to the bushes
to the river the turtle goes
there is no saying that
after all, the warning is given
personally, the rabbit will
always remember
and so does the turtle
there is no point of reconciliation
the facts of life are here again
nothing to lose nothing to gain.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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279
you have shown me
how to convert
this newspaper strips
into money
how this flower
turns into a white
rabbit
how the rabbit turns
into a hat
then back to a newspaper
strips again
magician, i am tired
of your illusions
how your hands
deftly deceived my
weaker eyes
now i have my last request
please perform this magic:
make yourself disappear.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Now Stop, Face Reality
you have shown me
how to convert
this newspaper strips
into money
how this flower
turns into a white
rabbit
how the rabbit turns
into a hat
then back to a newspaper
strips again
magician, i am tired
of your illusions
how your hands
deftly deceived my
weaker eyes
now i have my last request
please perform this magic:
make yourself disappear.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The rabbit is significant in that the handle on the original South Pointing Chariot was carved in the form of a rabbit. Because the handle extended out front it meant that wherever the rabbit went the chariot had to follow.
quote by Kit Williams
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My Other Chinee Cook
Yes, I got another Johnny; but he was to Number One
As a Satyr to Hyperion, as a rushlight to the sun;
He was lazy, he was cheeky, he was dirty, he was sly,
But he had a single virtue, and its name was rabbit pie.
Now those who say the bush is dull are not so far astray,
For the neutral tints of station life are anything but gay;
But, with all its uneventfulness, I solemnly deny
That the bush is unendurable along with rabbit pie.
We had fixed one day to sack him, and agreed to moot the point
When my lad should bring our usual regale of cindered joint,
But instead of cindered joint we saw and smelt, my wife and I,
Such a lovely, such a beautiful, oh! such a rabbit pie!
There was quite a new expression on his lemon-coloured face,
And the unexpected odour won him temporary grace,
For we tacitly postponed the sacking-point till by-and bye,
And we tacitly said nothing save the one word, “rabbit pie!”
I had learned that pleasant mystery should simply be endured,
And forebore to ask of Johnny where the rabbits were procured!
I had learned from Number One to stand aloof from how and why,
And I threw myself upon the simple fact of rabbit pie.
And when the pie was opened, what a picture did we see!
They lay in beauty side by side, they filled our home with glee!
How excellent, how succulent, back, neck, and leg, and thigh!
What a noble gift is manhood! What a trust is rabbit pie!
For a week the thing continued, rabbit pie from day to day;
Though where he got the rabbits John would ne'er vouchsafe to say;
But we never seemed to tire of them, and daily could descry
Subtle shades of new delight in each successive rabbit pie.
Sunday came; by rabbit reckoning, the seventh day of the week;
We had dined, we sat in silence, both our hearts (?) too full to speak,
When in walks Cousin George, and, with a sniff, says he, “Oh my!
What a savoury suggestion! what a smell of rabbit pie!”
“Oh, why so late, George?” says my wife, “the rabbit pie is gone;
But you must have one for tea, though. Ring the bell, my dear, for John.”
So I rang the bell for John, to whom my wife did signify,
“Let us have an early tea, John, and another rabbit pie.”
But John seemed taken quite aback, and shook his funny head,
And uttered words I comprehended no more than the dead;
“Go, do as you are bid,” I cried, “we wait for no reply;
Go! let us have tea early, and another rabbit pie!”
Oh, that I had stopped his answer! But it came out with a run:
“Last-a week-a plenty puppy; this-a week-a puppy done!”
Just then my wife, my love, my life, the apple of mine eye,
Was seized with what seemed “mal-de-mer,” — “sick transit” rabbit pie!
And George! By George, he laughed, and then he howled like any bear!
The while my wife contorted like a mad “convulsionnaire;”
And I—I rushed on Johnny, and I smote him hip and thigh,
And I never saw him more, nor tasted more of rabbit pie.
And the childless mothers met me, as I kicked him from the door,
With loud maternal wailings and anathemas galore;
I must part with pretty Tiny, I must part with little Fly,
For I'm sure they know the story of the so-called “rabbit pie.”
poem by James Brunton Stephens
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The Rabbit Hole
How deep does the rabbit hole go?
Too many people don't want to know.
They're afraid they might come upon
something not so nice.
Isn't it easier to just skate
over very thin ice?
No worries, no frets of any kind,
it's much more comfortable for the mind.
Don't look left. Don't look right,
just straight ahead is what's in their sight.
Now take the ones whose heads can turn,
they are the people whose minds do yearn
to see how deep the rabbit hole goes?
What they will find will surely expose
Why we are filled with insecurity?
What's at the bottom of inequality?
Why some never have prosperity?
And so much more will come to light
and these are the brave that will take up the fight
and try to fill the rabbit hole
so the complacent ones who pay the toll
might have a chance to save their soul.
Now rabbit holes are dug deeper each day
by the power that wants you to have no say.
They want control over all that you are.
They will do all they can to block the star
that shines for you on every night.
They would love to keep you away from that sight.
For then they've got you and your soul
deep in the bowels of the rabbit hole.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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Soft Coat
On the rapid asphalt road
bloody fur, a rabbit caught
in the glaring headlight of
a speeding car.
Poor creature don’t cross
the road at night, do not
cross it at all unless you’re
an angel and can fly.
No one loves a rabbit less
it is a child’s pet and lives in
a tiny cage. Run free rabbit,
run on the forest’s floor.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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The Rabbit And The Pretty Wild Flower
The rabbit spoke to the pretty wild flower….,
But the flower didn’t answer….,
The rabbit sniffed the pretty wild flower….,
Still no reaction…, no answer….,
Then the rabbit thought for a moment….,
And seemed to get impatient…,
The rabbit ate the pretty wild flower….,
And so goes another quiet day in the forest.
poem by Trade Martin
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The boy who was so innocent and kind
Once upon a time there was a little boy
He had a mind so pure, innocent and kind
He lived in a village so quiet and secluded
Nothing but trees from the village were protruded
One day, the boy took a stroll in the wood
And found a rabbit which in a trap stood
The boy having a kind heart, set it free
The rabbit ran away and the boy felt pleased
On another occasion during his leisurely walk
The boy found a pigeon which was got caught
Feeling sorry, he also released it from the trap
The pigeon fluttered its wings and flied towards its nest
Not long after that the boy found himself in the wood again
This time he discovered a tiger which was being contained
Again feeling pitiful for the captive animal, he set it free
The tiger jumped out of the cage and made the boy its meal.
poem by Henry Chen
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