"mammal" poems
Yes, it's seemingly a nonsensical rhetorical question, but, for that precise reason, it will illustrate a lesson, if you so desire to tag along for this short session.
Per Wikipedia, "The horse (Equus ferus caballus) is one of two extant subspecies of Equus ferus. It is an odd-toed ungulate mammal belonging to the taxonomic family Equidae." Hmmm... I much prefer that the horse goes "Nay," eats hay, has a mane, and is ridden by cowboys, cowgirls, Indians, equestrians, knights, jockeys, conquistadors, Mongols, and all. Even better, just point a horse out or otherwise show a picture to a kid and they will never be mistaken again. Even the littlest ones will never be stumped when faced with a rhino, tiger, giraffe, camel, and such.
Admittedly, there is a worry that we could be fooled with that of a donkey or mule. How come no one has taken advantage of this?! What a scam to get us rich! "Duh doy," you say, cause we all know when we see a horse, so why would anyone try to trick us with an *** Well I ask you in turn, why does anyone try to trick us with good art versus bad, let alone art versus crap? How could anyone fall for that?!
Jun 10, 2018
Jun 10, 2018 at 8:48 PM UTC
My Bipolar Disorder is a stout-bodied mammal with horns and cloven hooves.
There are two types of My Bipolar Disorder:
Domestic, and Mountain.
My Bipolar disorder typically spends its days grazing on grasses
My Bipolar Disorder will dig depressions in the ground to sleep, rest, and bathe in.
My Bipolar disorder is super social during the winter, and tends to go solo during the summer.
My Bipolar Disorders tail usually points up! (Unless it is frightened or sick)
My Bipolar Disorder is extremely Curious and Intelligent.
Once My bipolar disorder has discovered a weakness in its fence, it will exploit it repeatedly.
There are over 300 distinct breeds of My Bipolar Disorder.
Within' minutes of being born, my Bipolar Disorder is up and walking around.
My bipolar disorder used to live in the white house with Abraham Lincoln.
One day an ethiopian Herder walked in on My Bipolar Disorder liteally bouncing off of cliff walls because it just Discovered Coffee.
My Bipolar Disorder has four stomachs
The horns of My Bipolar Disorder are typically removed to reduce injury to humans.
My Bipolar disorder will explore anything new or unfamiliar in its surroundings, mainly with its mouth and tongue.
My bipolar disorder readily reverts to the wild if given the opportunity.
My Bipolar Disorder is more susceptible to Parasites and other infectious diseases when it is mismanaged.
My bipolar disorder has had a lingering connection with Satanism and pagan religions
My Bipolar Disorder is considered a "clean" animal by jewish dietary laws.
According to Zeus
As long as you leave it's bones whole,
My Bipolar disorder will keep coming back to life.
May 9, 2016
May 9, 2016 at 1:19 PM UTC
*"Are you are reptile,
or a mammal?"*
<licks lips and rubs chin>
*"Cold-blooded,
warm-hearted?"*
<grips knee with left hand>
*"When smelling a blooded roast beef...
...do you get hungry and share?"*
"Or do you eat the guests first?"
<holding long-blade carving knife>
"You see, I like to think that you're both bugs, that you bug me and neither of you have any power what with my holding this weapon?"
<waves knife around erratically>
"Also, I don't like sharing..."
**I only throw
my banana
at Chel-Sea
I only throw
my banana
at Chelsea
I only throw
my banana
at Chel-sea* *
Sep 11, 2017
Sep 11, 2017 at 1:11 AM UTC
On a mythical Mumbai weekend,
of no serene start or dubious end,
with imaginary beauties, invisible friends,
I stepped out of a puffing train,
my long unkempt hair a lion's mane,
getting used to my twitching tail,
Posing on the Gateway of India,
the extraordinary explorer pose,
took a boat to Elephanta (sans the hose),
and when my shivering co-passengers
had finished feverishly taking pictures
and started screaming holy mothers and sisters,
I took off from the starboard end,
and became the first man-lion to
cross the polluted Indian channel,
surviving to make the news channels,
my scientific name listed as a brand new mammal,
my mating call recognized as a gushing gargle,
On a mythical Mumbai weekend,
of no serene start or dubious end,
with imaginary beauties, invisible friends,
I devoured deep-kissing lovers for lunch
at Bandstand's low-tide on a hunch,
to the delicious sound of munch! munch!
even as Shah Rukh Khan watched disgusted
from his big big bungalow by the sea,
and as the city sharpshooters came after me,
and later when they brought me down,
from Nariman Point building, like KING KONG,
I tuned a dusty guitar and sang a melancholy song,
on the death of adventure, love and reality,
dangers of delusions, lethargy and self-pity,
repression, horniness and too much TV,
down in a shower of bullets when I went,
sky like the coming of rain, godspeed, godsend,
in a mythical city, where nothing is really meant,
On a mythical Mumbai weekend,
of no serene start or dubious end,
with imaginary beauties, invisible friends...
Jun 4, 2016
Jun 4, 2016 at 11:01 AM UTC
How would our (terrestrial) world's biggest mammal look like in space?
floating about, no matter how aggressive or gentle he might be,
he still would look like just a small particle amongst trillions.
yet, here on Earth his size is so intimidating not even the mighty lion
dares disturbe him...
just how small can something so big be amongst the stars?
Nov 7, 2012
Nov 7, 2012 at 8:26 PM UTC
Breakfast
The morning spins lazily
out of the Universe’s black eye
like a surveillance camera
************ my paranoia.
I eat a small breakfast
of toads and do my coughing
exercises.
In the cellar the flesh
incinerator purrs for dinner
and is only satisfied with
one species of rare mammal.
My exotic summer guests,
strewn on the floor
like pickup sticks,
are becoming a burden,
so I toss one in the furnace
and hazily return to bed.
Aug 28, 2015
Aug 28, 2015 at 9:03 PM UTC
Snake prowls
Preying owls
Welcome to the jungle
Night things emerge
Carnivores get the urge
Welcome to the jungle
Rainforest mammal
Dry desert camel
All know the law of the land
Swinging monkey on a tree
Or the flower-loving bumble bee
Know a jungle when they see one
Creatures with hungry jaws
Tear flesh with razor claws
For that's how a jungle should be
Man so set apart
Just because he has a human heart?
The joke's on me
So bask in the fantasy
That life comes so easily
Then welcome to the jungle
Nov 25, 2009
Nov 25, 2009 at 7:31 AM UTC
I have left, pig-mudding drunk,
having sipped from stock to stock on fraying cheer, stages.
I have stood in foreign basements; sweaty cellars of youth;
begot by attitude breeding spaces of the hip;
drawn circles searching for love in recreating nonsense:
a silly pupil, moon-eyed, out of breathe.
I have heard them quack, reveal their cords;
heard them whisper a thousand and one secrets,
heard them deconstruct their circumstances as pilgrims, penniless and sick.
I have their memories now, an image of a depressed,
ass-imprinted pillow soaked in liquor and a feeling of nausea
where ribs sleep on this couch tonight, every night.
I have heard one refute the weight of living, ******
on the banks of his best friends hospitality, and thought
How much is it worth?
And I have envied every **** greasy pored hipster,
the ones fixing on makingitnew now kind of clan; stared blankly at fashion,
a culture back door where pink fish scales sparkle high from runway halters
to the tops of grown men, bearded and chesty.
And your mothers pearls sit, not your mother’s pearls but your mother’s, mother’s pearls,
that old world clout ornamented around those hairy *******
Oh yes, I have seen men become peacocks, charmed animals of **********
seen them teeth at discourse in the noise they create, wide-mouthed and pointed;
I have seen them masked like frantic felines: wooly bully cats trying-to-roll their own meter,
their tobacco stained black charcoal over soft bricked lips quiver to their beats:
those painted lemmingings, without a parachute: kamikaze felons.
I have desired absolute sterility: white china,
in the egg of a toilet bowl I spewed out, shut-up my exuberance for the night;
sorry-pleaded my resolutions to gag out the naughty nouns in my life.
I have quit; turned in my lust for performing the lioness, paw-licking,
snarly creature: the predator of my youth, and now,
I am pretty-headed, tamed in bath oils and schedules;
a spotted fox, in plain view, one medium-sized mammal getting by.
Feb 3, 2013
Feb 3, 2013 at 5:05 PM UTC
Far narwhaled
silly monkey speared
aquatic creature cucumbered
another mammal tonight
On the fishing boat,
they reeled in both bodies
the monkey frozen solid
narwhal flapping harmlessly
They asked the monkey how it happened
his reply was this:
So they took his wide-eyed frozen stare
as for an admission of guilt.
his shock spoke volumes like
a speaker being blown out.
Tonight, the sailors drink moonshine.
Dec 16, 2013
Dec 16, 2013 at 12:12 AM UTC
I stare into the mother’s eyes
From a never-ending distance.
A barrier breaks the tension
But doesn’t guarantee freedom.
Her environment is pretense:
Three deceiving walls, one exit,
A path to another painting
To live more than forced settling.
An exhibit to real monsters,
Where I, an individual, stand
Yet want to jump into landscapes
And end it, the trapped loneliness.
Time ceases; all animals fuse,
Adapting to fake habitat.
It’s not enough forming routine
Until you discover Love’s zone.
Creature comfort is supportive.
The joey looks like a Joey,
Given warmth in mammal blanket.
My label shall change to Joey.
Life’s surroundings are family.
Since true home is away from here,
That’s all that matters; we are one.
We’re the same. We are not alone.
Oct 27, 2014
Oct 27, 2014 at 2:42 AM UTC
Some say anger is a wasted emotion,
Id argue that anger is why we are free from Hawaii to the Atlantic Ocean
Some say anger only breed’s violence and hate,
I disagree; anger is the reason for every revolution to date
Some peoples anger burns hot and takes control,
Mine kept chilled, a reptilian soul
A warm blooded mammal with a cold reptilian soul, Trying to make sure anger is used correctly from the far east to the close to home west.
Einstein dared to solve Mc squared.
So I will teach y’all to be angry, sharpened teeth bared
Then you will be taught,
How to teach. For anger with out purpose is for naught
I fight for change,
Till I stand limp on the big bad mans firing range
Some say anger is for those with nothing left
I say anger is the beating behind this planets chest
Some say anger is for outcasts and bums.
Yes anger is for outcasts. The too short the too tall, the too smart the too dumb
The too fat the too skinny, the too poor the too rich
Anger is for outcasts and bums.
Some say anger is a wasted emotion, yet for me, anger drives me when I write these poems
Oct 18, 2013
Oct 18, 2013 at 11:09 PM UTC
One weekend I met with a camel
Who believed that he wasn't a mammal
I tried setting him right
But we got in a fight
Which resulted in chipped tooth enamel
Mar 7, 2012
Mar 7, 2012 at 4:43 PM UTC
RINZAI BOX
Had to have a psych eval
at the box factory
a human resources workup
to make sure
I could handle work again
making cardboard condos
for little mammal prisoners
of the pet trade
who live on hot windowsills
until someone comes to love them.
I got too depressed once
when I found tiny bunnies
mewling in a dumpster
their only refuge
yes
a box I had made
you could tell
it said assembled with care
by Kevin
and I missed a month of work
and got written up
for just being sad.
The shrink diagnosed me
a cognitive distorter
a predictor of worst case scenarios
but I disagreed
since I saw the sad bunnies for real
and he puffed up like a blowfish
stammering you’re the patient
I’m the man.
Well I’ve been around the zendo
so I challenged him
smartypants answer this…….
Do bunnies in boxes
have Buddha nature?
Irrational and pointless he said
hmmmmm I said
how do you know
maybe you’re a narcissist
on a psychobabble fugue
echoing in a therapy box.
But I have Buddha nature
and I put that in the boxes I make
and the Buddha bunnies go in the boxes
and you here in your Buddha office
are not separate
just uniquely boxed
and the label on the bunnies' box says
assembled with care by Buddha.
Jan 30, 2012
Jan 30, 2012 at 12:46 AM UTC
A woman is a rabbit
She lives with notions determined by her ***
Thus constrained to her Father’s or husband’s will
Hunted by the predator who hungers for her flesh
Hunts in the dark of the concrete woodland
She is forced to be silent and suffer lack of wit
Forsooth her body is a puppet by the Male hand!
She forced to wed and breed
She faces a society that would **** her
And condemn her for her free mind
Tongues of blinded minds order her to undress or cover up
She must walk like that of prey
With a keen eye over her shoulder
She must console herself to the ideas and thoughts
That one day or one night she may be killed, murdered
She must play the dumb beauty, the cow on market, the ***** on heat
She isn’t powerful, or strong, or noble
She is a Rabbit….
A Rabbit is a Woman
A creature of God made out to be cute and small
Butchered, abandoned if illness takes hold, or stomachs are gluttonous
Hunted by great beasts for Frith gave them their gift to slay!
Tortured by experiment, at the will of a child they are rejected
Forlorn by notions of uneducated fools
They hide and huddled for man is their greatest enemy
This mammal is that of prey
With a keen ear scanning the hills
Bright eyes foresee the predator that lurks
They must be silent, they must be sweet, they must breed, or food to feed
They are forced to die! Forced to live!
Abused, beaten, slaughtered, they know in any moment they could be killed
They must hide their instincts, in filthy bed holes of hutches
They are forced to succumb to disease, hardly nursed
They must be petite, they mustn’t chew, they mustn’t ****
They aren’t intelligent, or strong, or noble
They are Woman…
A Rabbit is a Woman, A Woman is a Rabbit
Both hunted, beaten, abused…
Both by society and mankind used
Both are powerful, intelligent, strong and noble
I am Woman, I am Rabbit
Dec 4, 2016
Dec 4, 2016 at 3:56 PM UTC
So this has been where you were
all this time. Especially the kids
that looked up to you.
In between being forced by your intelligence officers
to beat up your comrades
and then **********
or else die.
This dark uncharted
neglected geographical treasure:
your breathing heart's chamber.
Looking straight out
what is always here with us
regardless of all our lies and grand
machines of escape.
This is the price you paid
for being able to bring life and sustain it.
Until now, we are still trying to see through
this visual masterpiece: another drug mule caught.
Drugs, sometimes as if the sullen reminder of our collective
human attempt at remembering our real treasures
and how we have lost them: A grandmother has 7 packs taped around her body, like a parasite but also like a baby mammal,
or an omen of something else yet to be remembered
and said out loud.
One day or day one, a friend would always remind me
when sober. We step into understanding ourselves better
or we keep making things to express
unresolved fears and anguish.#
Sep 7, 2018
Sep 7, 2018 at 3:23 AM UTC
Verse I
See the footprints that we're making,
some will never go away.
Living like there's no tomorrow,
think there's no price to pay.
Verse II
We slash and burn our forests,
though they make the air we breathe.
Turn our heads and close our eyes,
in this land of make believe.
Chorus
The earth does not belong to man,
the earth does not belong to man,
the earth does not belong to man,
we belong to the earth.
Verse III
The politicians tell us,
just what we want to hear.
So we won't have to know the truth,
and live our lives in fear.
Verse IV
The earth is calling out to us,
determined to be heard.
Every mountain, every stream,
every mammal and every bird.
Verse V
But we don't have to remain silent,
There's so much we can do.
To keep this earth from dying,
it's up to me and you.
Verse VI
We belong to the earth,
it does not belong to man.
It's time we stopped and listened,
to the rhythm of the land.
Apr 22, 2013
Apr 22, 2013 at 11:54 PM UTC
Tapping relentlessly on the warm metal table-top
I wait. I watch my watch to time the waitress.
I hate this. No more to do
than to classify humans; ''advanced'' mammal zoo.
Specimen one: Green-Eyed Duckling.
Looking up at her mother goose you can see
she doesn't seem to be finding a mirror.
If you were to ask me; no difference. Imperfect reflection.
Best not tell her though.
Specimen two: Naive Kitten.
Instantly smitten, with just a little heavy petting
never second guessing a seemingly simple relationship.
Take. Fake. Take some more.
Once it gets real, its too close to home.
Specimens three and four: Sympathy for the Mantis.
There's simply no way he can escape. It's not in his nature
raised to obey. She, can't see herself in the mother-in-law
it would shatter her control complex. Her whole context.
Destined to be consumed, he bows his head.
Specimen five: The Lioness.
She lays like an aggressive doormat
don't get too close, she might bite. Or worse
she might claw the ''not'' off the welcome mat
let you in and then play victim.
Specimen six: The Dreaming Sloth.
Floating on a magic carpet; going with the breeze
distinct aroma. Extinct diplomas.
Wasted. Talents wasted in two relaxed limbs
halfway through life, waiting for it to begin.
"Your coffee sir" she smiles.
A new profile; specimen seven
classified unknown.
Aug 10, 2013
Aug 10, 2013 at 3:34 PM UTC
Amputated human beings, only
gears, nuts and bolts that make up
the machine. Oh woe, who are we
post industrialization
but the first positive proton
to survive its opposite, the first
fiery bursts of fusion
to breathe light into blackness.
The first hydrogen atom
to find its partner, the first
galaxies to swirl and dance
to gravity’s tune. We are
the Earth’s first rain, mud puddle
and microbe. The first furry mammal
and the last dinosaur.
We are the last breath of humanity,
the Sun’s last ray of visible light,
the first collision of galaxies
and the last supernova.
We are the last breath of the universe
the silent second before heat death.
We— not humanity, not Americans, or any nationality, not **** sapiens but we, the consciousness that exists to say the universe knows itself— are the widest rings in a ripple, riding waves set into motion over 13 billion years ago.
Mar 27, 2011
Mar 27, 2011 at 8:44 PM UTC
I claim to know the wolf,
tracking scents in the high country
though half truth requires I confess
one has never been in my sight
though in silent night,
in snow weighted pines
and fir, doubtless one
has eyed me in my folly
I have seen the coyote
scratching in the caliche
on the stingy prairies,
crouching in the mesquite
ready for the ****
whilst the hare hops by
when chase ensues
and mammal hearts race
I have yet to see
the canine succeed
the hare hides in Alice’s hole
while the mangy hunter
settles for field mice
or makes bargains with buzzards
while the flies yet crawl
on the ****
Aug 1, 2013
Aug 1, 2013 at 4:27 PM UTC
In a world where we ruin things just to build them again
We’re never satisfied in the state we’re in
Atop the plane of embodiment we’ve fallen to inhabit the Earth
Secret eso-life agendas, as we’re drained we find our worth
And we hunt beside the hydra aquatic manic menthol mammal
Disease hear me please I can’t feel the wax from candles
My good luck charm is somewhere eating in my garden
I would write to my God but instead I beg its pardon
Jun 28, 2012
Jun 28, 2012 at 12:19 PM UTC
Controlled subdermal cage
we all have our own fields of fire
the world changes elements of boron
to day again ah the furious wet traffic
to my suit looking good but tired
white silk mammal lips
punk yards of spirits in magma
grace flies scream in antlers of highway
in through the iris out through the heart
nascent ghosts in time for life
Clocks grow pupae in my arms
under the frock and over the frame
disgrace the leaves at joy in autumn says the wind
poppies remain drooling in seas of light
the way men move through gas
champagne pours the cricket the gecko the feather the drake
the touch the brim the uncured wild
the street creates a world of song the koalas boom with fur
the mantelpiece wounds the air
the figments of life known as love live outside
until we grow kingdoms within.
Oct 20, 2014
Oct 20, 2014 at 1:01 AM UTC
If I could be a pure mammal
Upon the sun-blessed earth
Then I would be a tiger
And live in constant dearth
If I could be a free-flying bird
That lives in floating sky
Then I would be a falcon,
Constantly diving to survive.
If I could be a careful insect
Who fears an empty spine,
Then I would be a honeybee,
A small piece in a grand design.
If I could be a scaly reptile
Devoid of female affection,
Then I would be a chameleon
Hiding myself for protection.
If I could be an amphibian,
Who laughs at single worlds,
Then I would be a salamander
Sneaking onto forbidden thresholds.
If I could be a splashing fish
Who is fickle and lost,
Then I would be a goby
Who seldom comes out when flossed.
If I could but be my true self,
I'm rather sure you'd see
That I'm no longer passively
Waiting for death to be free.
© 3/8/13
Mar 8, 2013
Mar 8, 2013 at 7:19 PM UTC
Life is the greatest killer of all.
Cancer. Sickness. ******
Wellness to illness, function to dysfunction:
Two sides of the same coin toss.
The greatest civil rebellion lasted
122 years, give or take, yet
In all the struggle few realize that the true oppressor
Is always enslaved to a certain animal within.
Our ancestors die, our rivals die, our sisters die,
We've been choosing death all along.
Look at our blood: from tree to house to ash
And mammal to mammal to dirt to memory.
All things before the sun, that great heap of ******
Will have the color drained from them.
The great white is an event
Of the great blackness. And when it explodes . . .
And there's a lesson to be told here,
Call it 1.1.
There is a lucky infinity
Of the few who, unlike us, life
Didn't take them, and there is a growing infinity
Of us the many who death will take. I fear
That there will be a great war
To ruin the eternities that dot the night skies,
The Olympians. I fear a great war
Where infinite darkness both ways
Will finally collapse -
And us in the middle, the living,
This star chained away
By space and time and
The magnificence of its light,
Breathing away every last drop -
Will fail,
And the big black bang will stretch out in both ways
As a final **** you to existence.
And that'll be the end of it.
Sep 21, 2025
Sep 21, 2025 at 4:25 PM UTC
I've seen the face of evil
It tried to stare me down
It expected me to run
But instead I stood my ground
Its eyes were bloodshot red
Like a ****** high on ****
Its teeth were in a glass
It tried to gum me half to death
Its nose was like a cactus root
Twenty times compounded
I've never seen a cactus root
I just like the way it sounded
A **** stood high upon its back
That looked like a wayward camel
Covered in hair from head to toe
It just had to be a mammal
Horns fastened atop its head
It had such a horrible growl
Each time it did, it would drool a bit
So I gave it a paper towel
I'm telling you this thing was evil
I think it wanted my soul
I finally tried to run away
But the thing wouldn't let me go
It grabbed a hold of my belt loop
And I was pulling with all my might
I think it gave me a ******
Cause my underwear was gettin' tight
The beast was trying to **** me
Then someone turned on the light
If you think it was mother-in-law
Then, once again, you're right
Jan 7, 2011
Jan 7, 2011 at 9:16 AM UTC
*what a love you speak of in sonnet
and in the battle of the Somme!
no wonder Shakespeare is disputed!
only among actor and not poet the two should care.*
free floating lizard akin to the pickle
serpent worth of spine,
she's there, attired in the sun, a biblical
woman hardly a name worth remembering,
why? because she's all *****
and you're all... well... ending up laughing
long after the F.A. cup result is in
and she's lost her daydream...
ooh... 2 nil... i too was into the Faroe Islands
rather than into Craggy Island of: *'drink! drink!
dingy Titanic twin tuck 'n' sunk lucky bet!*
no, really, i was reading an article and started
to laugh... some ***** with a Stephen Hawking
jpeg., i goo my hashish high with porridge...
she said Ibiza was fine with hens but not stags...
she mentions shaggy **** with dispensation
& carrier pigeons of philanthropy or abuse that
fostering advice involves... well, cheap jokes
elsewhere, crucifix over here? what fun to suit
comedy!
NONMONOGAMOUS... ? hey! why not try
a zygote relationship! if trans or bi or hetero
or **** doesn't work? all men around seem
to say the same: i'm not ready for this arson of talk
with a woman tongue replacing both bullet and rifle,
tank, cannon and an arab ******* on holiday...
give me extinction... i'd listen to the lizard man
that hear of mammalian love, that's as much cold
blood with the lizards as i had to learn with keeping
things i worked for being jealous:
it seems it was easier to keep a thief that way than a dog.
May 21, 2016
May 21, 2016 at 9:06 PM UTC