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Mark Toney Oct 2019
China charges 1 million annually
For each panda in our zoos
If we won't pay in full
Then the pandas we will lose
Nasty Panda's the exception
No one wants him here or there
He was paid 1 million dollars
To abscond and disappear!

Here comes the Nasty Panda
     ~He's much more than you can bear
He's such a nasty panda
     ~He leaves cooties everywhere
Beware of Nasty Panda
     ~He do anything he please
Stay clear of Nasty Panda
     ~He eats shoots and leaves

I smelled him 'fore I seen 'em
That black and white pariah
Slippin' slidin' in my kitchen
On smooshy mushy pulp papaya
I yelled for him to stop
And I told him where to go
Wink and laugh was all he did
With a Homer Simpson "D'oh!"

Here comes the Nasty Panda
     ~He's much more than you can bear
He's such a nasty panda
     ~He leaves cooties everywhere
Beware of Nasty Panda
     ~He do anything he please
Stay clear of Nasty Panda
     ~He eats shoots and leaves

He hasn't bathed in ages
Masked by quarts of cheap cologne
His furry skin sweat-sticky
From the surface to the bone
Smelly cigar and ***** breath
Plus an air of upper-crust
Please keep your kids away
Cuz that nasty bear can cuss!

Here comes the Nasty Panda
     ~He's much more than you can bear
He's such a nasty panda
     ~He leaves cooties everywhere
Beware of Nasty Panda
     ~He do anything he please
Stay clear of Nasty Panda
     ~He eats shoots and leaves

If you meet up with Nasty Panda
Better turn around and run
You're bound to lose your money
And your wits before he's done
Don't shed tears for Nasty Panda
Cuz he likes the way things are
Don't forget to hide your keys
Else he'll drive off in your car!

Here comes the Nasty Panda
     ~He's much more than you can bear
He's such a nasty panda
     ~He leaves cooties everywhere
Beware of Nasty Panda
     ~He do anything he please
Stay clear of Nasty Panda
     ~He eats shoots and leaves

Here comes the Nasty Panda
     ~He's a scoundrel and a ***
He's such a nasty panda
     ~He's as nasty as they come
Beware of Nasty Panda
     ~He's gonna raise a stink
Stay clear of Nasty Panda
     ~He's much nastier than you think
4/27/2019 - Poetry form: Light Verse - This is what I refer to as a flight of fancy.  Only this panda is nasty. The other pandas are cute :) - Copyright © Mark Toney | Year Posted 2019
A Psalmist May 2017
You black and white beasts
From the far east,
Oh, how I long to be invited to your panda feasts.
I put on my panda hat with my panda suit,
Tie my panda tie and my panda shoes.
I arrive at your gate with all my panda bling,
But you say, for me to enter, I must wear your panda ring.
That doesn’t sound so bad if that’s all I need to do
To be allowed to enter and eat bamboo with you.
I’ve waited for this moment, longed to be accepted.
But, to be honest, it’s not what I expected.
Although I am so close, and the ring looks nice,
I hesitate for a second, take a moment to think twice.
Is this what my life has come to, debating a “panda ring”?
Enslaved to every whim of the panda king,
Doing what he wants me to, just to be approved,
Once I put that ring on, it cannot be removed.
No, I will not stoop to a panda ring,
I have my own bear song to sing.
As I say goodbye, waving my bare hand,
I notice panda rings on all their bear hands.
Spotless I return, back home to the ice,
Ready to chill out and live a polarized life.
#panda #ring #pandaring #pandering #individual #bear
Blossom Feb 2018
Baby Panda
You called me
A *****-*****
When you woke
And I smiled
In response

Baby Panda
When eating
Fruity pebbles
With almond milk
You croaked like
A frog, croak
Over 20 times
And got up
To spit in the sink
Excessive saliva
In between
Each bite
I asked you why
You croak
I smiled
And say
Never mind

Baby Panda
You ran to me
Sobbing as if
The world was ending
My socks!!!
No more clean
****, I forgot
To dry them
You pace
As you're forced
To go barefoot
Feet ****
For longer
Than an hour

Baby Panda
I return to
You're stash
Of a room
And picking up
Your pajamas
I smell an
Of both sorts
Soiling your
Red faced you enter
I smile and
Remind you
To let me know
Next time
And not to
Throw it on the
Wooden floor

Baby Panda
Socks on smooth
Shoes tied with
Quadrupled knots
You head to your
Room, radio blasting
Some radio talk
Station about comedy
Until 8:21 rolls around
And you run
Like a bullet
To the bus outside
Our house
I smile as you yell
No matter what room
I'm in

Baby Panda
I worry for you
The second you walk
Out the door
Because you have such
Big, terrifying emotions
Yet a small filter
On your words, thoughts
Of your own body
Despite the fact
That you're turning
Into a real teen
Before the summers end

Baby Panda
I wish I could help
In ways I cannot
I can't read your mind
Though you think
I should
Know how by now
I can't make socks magically
Not hurt, or have people
Not get ******
When you randomly shout
When your last conversation
Was regarding food
And I can't
Stop the madness that
Overtakes your body
Every time you get ill
Physically, mentally

But Baby Panda
I love you now
And always will
My baby, 12 year old brother
Tom Higgins May 2014
Amanda was a Panda
She was a lovely lass,
Although she had two ******* eyes,
She retained an air of class.

She ambled into the Bamboo Bar
To have lunch with Panda Pete one day,
And he looked into her eyes
And to her he did say.

"Oh Amanda with your ******* eyes
Will you please be forever mine,
And promise that you will never
Let your panda arms entwine,

Any other bloke panda
In this bamboo land,
Please oh please Amanda,
You've got to understand

For me there is no other
You're the only girl for me,
You remind me of my mother,
And so we're meant to be,

Together as a couple we'll be
With our four eyes of black,
Oh darling please look at me
Why have you turned your back?"

She answered very clearly
She said "because Pete I'd rather,
Find another Panda really,
To be my childrens father."

Now Panda Pete was really sad
He felt total and utter rejection,
So he sloped off before he got mad,
To a future of dejection.

He slunk out of the Bamboo Bar,.
Back into the forest outside
And jumped into his panda car
And took off for a long lonesome ride.

Tom Higgins 07/05/2014
Ana S May 2016
There's a panda in my backpack
A panda in my backpack.
Yes there is a panda in my backpack.
A very interesting panda.
Very interesting panda.
There's a panda in my backpack...
Jared Eli Oct 2013
There was a panda in my bed last night
I did not notice while I was asleep
When I awoke the panda screamed in fright
He hit his head and he began to weep
"Oh my dear panda, why are you in tears?
I'm sorry I made you hit your poor head
A panda, that is sad is in my fears
And thusly your sorrow makes my heart lead
The panda arose to glance at the door
Then he ripped the blankets out from my hand
I guess he cared not to talk to me more
So I attempted to await command
But wretched bear took a bite of my spine
And then on my entrails panda did dine
CloudedVisions Jul 2018
There was a Panda in his room
Ready to fall asleep
He wrapped himself up
Hugged his bed
As he counted all his sheep

The sheep jumped by one by one
As he watched the setting sun
The moon would rise
Stars shine bright
As the nighttime had begun

He rests his head on his pillow
He lays there all alone
In the warmth of night he falls asleep
As he pays his daytime loan

His mind goes dim, as his dreams awake
And he's in a pitch black room
When in front of him a bubble forms
One the size of his head
Past him it begins to zoom

The Panda half walks half crawls to where the bubble lay
Afloat in the air
Suspended above
He raises his voice to speak for it to come
But when his mouth opens, he doesn't know what to say

The bubble sits there laying in wait
Waiting for him to reach
So the Panda puts up his outstreched arm
Reaching for what he thinks would give him great joy
But what he finds is alarm

As he reaches and touches the bubble
The bubble begins to shake
It waivers and pops and rains down debris
And yet he doesn't wake

The Panda looks down
With tear stained eye
He sees the puddle below
And to the bubble he waves good bye

In this puddle left by the bubble
He sees his reflection glow
He sees his face, his tear stained eye
He wants to be set free
But for this little Panda, waking up is slow
this poem is a reflection of me and how I feel.
there was a little panda he was black and white
very very funny and very very bright
he lived in a country very far away
in a great big jungle where he used to stay.

oneday while out walking through the jungle road
he looked upon a leaf and there was sat a toad
the little toad was crying feeling oh so  blue
then the panda asked what is wrong with you.

i have lost my way he said i have lost my track
panda said dont worry i will take you back
then he heard a croak not to far away
coming from a place where the toad should stay.

panda led the toad to where the toad should be
to a little pond just behind a tree
panda said goodbye as he walked away.
toad stayed in his pond and never more did stray
there was a little panda he at lost his white
he was all in black it didnt look quite right
panda he was sad that his white had gone
a panda all in black he was the only one
he  had lots tears rolling down his face
it made feel him depressed and completly out of place
then suddenly he heard. a rustle in the tree
he took a closer look to see who it could be
it was his friend the elf he had heard him cry
he came to have a look what was the reason why
elf  had magic powers and gave him back his white
panda he was happy and once again felt right
there was a little panda he was black and white
very very funny and very very bright
he lived in country very far away
in a great big jungle where he used to stay
oneday while he was walking through the jungle road
he looked upon a leaf and there was sat a toad
the toad he was crying feeling oh so  blue
then the panda asked what is wrong with you
i have lost my way he said i have lost my track
panda said dont worry i will take you back
then he heard a croaking not to far away
coming from a place where a toad should stay
panda led the toad to where the toad should be
to a little pond just behind a tree
toad he was happy. he was now back home
never again from his path did he ever roam
Mimi Lynn Kelly Sep 2015
Sometimes we all have our dreams and childish feelings,
I know we do,
I had two where I had the ears and a tail of a Panda,
Now I feel I currently have them,
If I had the ears of a Panda,
If had the tail too,
I must do
What I must do,
If I had the ears of a Panda,
I'd want you to have them too...
Wow! Another April 30, 2013 7th grade poem! I really loved pandas then, and do now.
Crushing Love Mar 2015
Teacher: Alright Panda what are your Favorite colors?

Me: My favorite colors are Red and Black

Teacher: Interesting colors Panda, why are those your colors?

Me: I honestly doubt you want to hear the answer to that.

Teacher: Come on Panda, tell the class why those are your colors.
In my head the decision warred to tell but then my life was already hard enough as it was......More and more my demons wanted release so finally I gave in prepared for the looks, name calling, and lonely life again.
----------------------------------------------------------­-------------------------------------Me: you really want to know  why?

Teacher: Very much yes, we would

Me: Ok then, Red and black are my favorite colors for their meanings.

Teacher: And what are their meanings?

Me: Red, stands for The blood that is shed during death, The blood that I shed when the knife glides over my skin, The blood that can be heard rushing through your veins when the fear becomes to great....The blood that your heart leaks from the poorly covered cracks from being shattered so many times....

Teacher: (Gulps) And what about black Panda?

Me: Black.....My true color.....Black, stands for the darkness and destruction warring in my mind, body, and soul, The darkness after death, The darkness in my heart from all the hatred thrown at me, The Darkness and destruction from my inner demons who keep warm and safe at night, The Darkness that one day we will all see, because nobody can escape death....Hes one bad-*** ******* who always gets his way....Those are my colors....The colors that make me and I stand for...

Teacher: Ummm....Very...Very Interesting Panda (Gulps and steps away) You know I think it's time for lunch why don't we all go to lunch yea? ( Scurries away)

Other students: I told you she was a freak......Crazy......Belongs with the dead if you ask me.....She talks about demons so much I would be surprised if she wasn't one.....

Me: Smirks You guys should learn to keep your opinions to your self, they might get you hurt one day.... (Get's up and walks out the door leaving a note for the others)

*Note- "Roses are Red, Violates are blue, Red like your blood, blue like the sea....Keep on talking soon you will all see who the true demon is and hey it just might be me." Yours truly Panda <3
Fat Panda Oct 2014
Im just a FAT PANDA
Tyler Derksen May 2014
Panda's are beautiful when they sneeze which goes "squeak", Aloft her days so innocent amd meek.

Panda's are beautiful when they're fierce without end, Finding new pathways making "No Exit" signs bend.

A Panda knows it's beauty by the rush of the leaves and the wind behind it's ear, Even though it's cold at times there's always a Tiger near. But one Tiger watches each year, And sees every tear, Without hesitation he draws near.

And time passes and leaves fall, Seemlessly with no worries at all. And footsteps cross, change, end but retrace to join on adventures again. Oh the meaning of something so small, Night comes and covers them all.

And again the wind blows across her ear,
But this time making her warm, Cause he growls for her and pours his Tigerish words along the wind in hopes that they might reach something dear.

The rustle in the midnight when no wind blows, As silence becomes them something is found. Something small, the Tiger picks up, but bigger than her heart. It's the key that unlocks everything, It was laying on the ground, Nothing is left un opened as the wind through her heart shows.

She loves him and he has always returned it. Though rain may force it's meaning to change, It only defines deeper the warmth of the wind...

Panda's are beautiful when they sing the wrong notes, The right ones, the flat ones or completely different song. They'll reach his heart deeply as they rustle along!
K Balachandran Mar 2016
Amanda, a crazy collector of Vanda
had such an intense dislike for Aranda
she detested the ******,
when making out in tandem
her outdoor escapade once scared a Panda

(C) K.Balachandran
Vanda and Aranda are genuses of Orchids
Simon Clark Aug 2012
Watching the Panda resting,
Scorching in the southwestern sun,
China is a colourful place,
He eats the bamboo that grows with grace.

He's old now and has moved from the lowlands,
Farmers drove him from his safety,
He is endangered,
Docile and beautiful.
written in 2009
Redshift Aug 2013
today my daddy bought me
a soft red panda
with a striped tail
and fuzzy eyebrows
from the zoo
he took me to.
he said
"this would be you, Red
if you were an animal.
aren't you cute?"

i smiled so much today
and felt so happy
(like a glass full of sunshine)
i forgot to be afraid
of everything.
i didn't even realize
that i felt alright
in the car
the red panda in my lap.

i am twenty years old
but i still love the zoo
i love even more that you knew
just what i needed
to be ok, dad
pills aren't ok. unadulterated fluffballs are.

oh p.s. it's a stuffed animal, relax
Alan Vollmer Mar 2010
Choose wisely

keep up the goodness
bring in more
let in more

purple panda bears laugh in the trees
they see all
and hear less than is normal
because their ears are so small
for their massive heads

they’re, like, really tiny
in comparison
to the surface area of their cranium
which is big
Another purposefully awful poem
Classy J Oct 2016
Killer boy, crawling through life like a caterpillar, yeah I work hard but get under appreciated like a water boy. Cute & Dangerous like a panda, waving my native pride like it was a banner. I'm not interested in slutty broads; yeah I don't waste my time on those frauds. Never been to London, but I am stunting, roasting haters in my oven. Girls be looking at me with panda eyes, but I am wise for not replying, because all though good in the moment, I know it will lead to my demise. Just let me versify and revamp the bounds of rap, yeah I'm about to cross the transversal line. I sometimes internalize my hate and fear, while critics are quick to crucify, it's fine because society has begun to blur. Let's prioritize our animal instincts, get what we want in an instance, who needs to care about logistics.

Hunter like tactics; we are so polarizing; praising meaningless merchandise; even if it's gimmicky and unappetizing. Just keep on pandering to propaganda, keep on working to help the great scandalized top banana.  Everything looking black and white, can we bounce back, and once again thrive in the sunlight? The inner blackness is ready to come out, the sinner that creeps in my dreams like Freddy, is there a way for me to get out? The white light of hope tries to stay strong, but how do I do that when it feels like I'm an anomaly that doesn't belong? Inner clash, inner turmoil, feels like I'm going to crash, is there time for us to unwind this coil? Deception is this addiction, struggling with affliction that sparks some friction. Sitting on the floor with a bottle of Gibson, only one more stop till I reach destruction. Sip after sip, as I start to drift, wondering if I am just a small blip, starting to question if life really is a gift.

Blackness keep on bearing down, just a canvas of blankness trying so hard not to breakdown. Searching for light to give me might, to give me motivation to continue on to fight. Just a panda; vicious but vulnerable; precious but endangered; wondering if my soul can be recoverable. How do I transition, how do I change my position, how can my intuition help me avoid this oppositional demolition? How do I carefully plan my mission, how do I clear my vision, how do I deal with this condition? Do I go to a hospital, do I dig deeper psychologically, do I become an apostle? Do I go to an intervention; do I take pills for suicidal prevention? Black & white, despite these attacks, I will bridge the gaps, and destroy the traps. Good meets bad, bad meets evil, forget the prequel; time to move on to your sequel.
there was a little panda he was black and white
very very funny and very very bright
he lived in a country very far away
in a great big jungle where he used to stay

oneday while he was walking through the jungle road
he looked upon a leaf and there was sat a toad
the litttle toad was crying feeling oh so  blue
then the panda asked what is wrong with you

i have lost my way he said i have lost my track
panda said dont worry i will take you back
then he heard a croaking not to far away
coming from a place where a toad should stay

panda led the toad to where the toad should be
to a little pond just behind a tree
toad he was so happy. he was now back home
and promised from his pond he would never roam
Kitty Lam Apr 2014
Imagine life as a panda, what would it be like?
We would eat, sleep and sit
Who knew, we’re so alike?
A sparkly fresh black paint and white, so different, you got to admit
That we’re so calm and we’re so perfectly sweet
Flute, is what we are, it fit
Our personality, so comfy that you will take a seat,
And listen to the music of nature.
However, we have another personality,
A brother that is: nosy and major!
But we are very protective,
We’re like a fluffy warm coat or a big fuzzy boot,
Wrapping around our love, and it’s very affective!
If you ask us, what panda smells like? Perfume or a fruit?
We’d say, we smell just like bamboo,
The smell of nature and our favorites!
And did you know that Oreo is our relative too?
Crunchy; tasty and creamy flavor!
We are different from the other bears
And that’s what made us unique!
This is my first poem ever on this site. I Hope you all enjoy it!
JayJay Oct 2013
I bought a hat the other day
In the car almost swept away
From my head, but what can I say?
I love my panda hat, anyway

Took it to school to show a friend
Wore it around till the very end
Love the smiles others send
Another day I did amend

Covered ears
Tassels, fur
"I like your hat"
Thank you, sir!
Blossom Jan 2017
Panda woman, that is me
Wears a mask and is chubby
Climbing up a bamboo tree
SomethingRascal Jun 2014
How does the panda become so blue?
Electric like the wiry hairs at the base of my spine,
you know, my tail.

And that man, her father, just wouldn’t leave her alone.
What a great job he had done,
to usher such a wonderful child into the age of darkness.

The red-eye rush fully in effect,
buns in the oven,
hearts open, and dreams wide awake.

Your tail was moving with focus,
as your delicate hands shaped a pie,
of lovely proportions, which hit all the right spots.

When will you be off?
Just in time to miss mourning traffic,
on your way home (to my mind).

Those rings under your eyes are beautiful under these fluorescent lights,
and i can’t keep my eyes off your slender panda-tude,
wishing i would awake underneath your electric covers.

You and i aren’t so different,
but tonight, and the next
we won’t ever know that.
Matt Apr 2015
Panda Express
Good going down

Too filling now it seems

I feel the need to go jog it off
And eat some fruit
Daniel K Apr 2013
So I thought I would write a poem to tell you how much I miss you
It's a letter from my heart to yours
And I can sense the feeling
Rush from my head to my heart
Through my arm to the pen
To the page
You have not been gone too long
And you won't be gone much longer
But I can't stand a second without you

It's a funny thing you know
To feel the way I do
After all that we have been through
You still mean the world to me
I guess you always did
And you burst inside me
Like a thousand fireworks in my heart
Even after all this time
I reckon you mean more to me now than you did at the start
I still get that bubbling feeling
And your still always on my mind

I may have made a mistake or two
One bigger than them all
And guys really only get one chance with girls like you
And I have been blessed to get a second
But if you never let me go
I swear I will never let you down

Seeing is believing
And you are all I see
And when you begin to see your dreams
You must hold it with all your might
Wei-Qi Ooi Jan 2013
How much can they eat?
Oh the green, skinny trunk,
the “less than a handful” leaves,
how much must be sacrificed to satisfy them?

I sit here on this wet bench thinking,
digging the earth of wood chips with my feet,
not caring about the other reality,
just wondering more of the black and white bear,
as I stare into the bamboo trees.
Shane Carmichael Feb 2012
It’s so hard, my love
Hard to say, hard to tell
With you it’s something of a tale
Hard to say, hard to tell
The story of us
Hard to say, hard to tell
Sometimes I wish you could forget about me so you didn’t have to tell the stories
Hard to say, hard to tell
The stories that bring a slight twinge to your ears and eyes
Hard to say, hard to tell
I apologize that I’m difficult to get rid of
Hard to say, hard to tell
Trash can, wastebasket;
the place we throw it all away.
Used tissues--soggy mascara, dried *****,
or the babies that would never be,
and the heaps of food waste, human waste.

Wasted human.

Why do we take ourselves and the people we used to love,
toss people and our person deep within a hole of shame,
darkness, misery, guilt, worry, frustration, fear?

If someone only said to you, or to me, when we dig deep
into the ground and find the place no one will find us
or them, the people we are burying--
if they only said,
"You are not trash."

Our emotions refuse to become refuse, the remains of
being unwanted, as we perceive ourselves to be.

But we is just me, and even though I can't hear the voice
I long to hear above my own, the sounds reverberate in my chest,
next to my heart, where I heard them last.

The last time we spoke your fingers did not reach for mine.
Your jeans did not rip in the same one spot.
The dog that I picked that you picked after you went back,
his tail wagging all the way on the ride back to his new home,
did not kiss my face and my eyes and ears like he loves to do.
Even though you didn't still love me, you did before,
now thrown hastily, yet decidedly in the trash can outside your door.

I dropped off the last remnant of your physical being,
an old rabbit-eared antennae.
I didn't, couldn't look in your trash can,
or stand in the driveway longer than was needed to drop and run
the hell away from crumbling gravel, a window newly aluminum foiled, and the motorcycle kept under surveillance at all times.

I hope he looked on his camera screen and saw walking,
talking, feeling, breathing human trash gliding
down the sidewalk, feet pattering into a jog.
The grass licked my feet and tangled in my toes on the way
to the one place my sighs could sink lower than my feet,
deep into the warm upholstery of my car seat, the grandma car,
the dented, imperfect, but mostly reliable car

away, far away, to a place where someone would look curiously,
pick up the trash, my trash, me, and say,
"It's beautiful."
Shahad Alamoudi Jan 2014
Black ,white , tall or short
What ever we look we live in the same world
Let's be one hand let's fix our wonderful land
We were born with no Racism we were born clean
We were born with a eyes that sees everything clear
Destroy racism fix your mind be the one everyone can believe in
Let's be like a panda
He's black
He's white
He's Asian ;)
Robin Carretti Aug 2018
A special lace-like card
        *        *        *
Three Star points
       *  *  *
Sword-like smile-Bored-Hike pile-
Western Union Man
Money flies like Superman

Spinning wheel fan too guard
Special words have no regard
He's the Adonis-like the
Lazarus lovely-like Venus
Those effects in motion
That special tip above her lips
Steady as they go but motionless
The stars walk across her
sky lifted dress

Heavenly Pillsbury flour
Her hair flower no water
Smile Lift even in debt
Messed her heart so red
White light disaster
Nothing on this earth
we got to lose no control
Here's the *Special Rose

Winter/Sunglow hair
The Flatiron

A spaceship cowardly lion
Your the "Wildcat"
Crazy Oats
Space waves of the neutron
The dream on
Your eyes are blind
A clear day special motif
setting inside your
Word heading leaf
He lifts up your
blinds all
righteous minds

Those special love hands
Nothing was ever
staged starlight and bright
  Never yellow

It blocked out
my *Godly
On the good earth leaf
Helen Keller had the
good remedy family
When you are deaf
A green touch of
brown leafs
What you smell and feel
What's truly there
special beliefs

Or at the most
Famous Cemetery,
You got blinded  so
gilded star
you don't
see them

One of a kind that's him
Or the encounters of the
third kind Winter/Sun
The darkness slim-man-run

The cactus desert of my heartlands

Jack of all Trader Joes investments
My E-book and I Phone
best T-bone steak
Spices of theVegetarian Kingdom
Curry in a hurry for Indian Food,
E-T Extra
Terrestrial Space high bill total

ABC Chemical love reaction
A special motif so personnel
"Divine District Attorney"

Taking spiritual love
what lies beneath us
Lotus Tea Panda Bears
Of Journeys
Pyramid or the myriad

A-Special Motif
comes to me
Two Gods surrender me
Something you feel but
it's unknown
Never left in the dark
like a treasure
Teeth chatter Gold caps
Almost happy coffee
almost dark

Too many famous labels
A special romance new leaf
Time change challenging
Winter sun/Wonder fun
Amarous open chorus
Special maid devious
A special Motif delicious
The honest lawyer
Special talent space
of braces
Subsequently or coincidentally

What was special
The board meetings like *Erasers
To erase all the special places
in my heart

Dark despair trail parted
Ending up with a trail
of mixed nuts
Cars such a pain with
Synthetic Oil ****** -like Oil

The conjuring or searing
Holding the leaf in spirit
special times remembering
Sapphire September October
Comfort foods November
The heartburn living
The Winter/Sun
Special motif holding onto
his one brilliant leaf in
Ancient Egyptian King of Tut

Yearning the solemn vows
The full moon is
turning a
new leaf
The painted picture leaf
special Motif

Love so committed
The time was omitted
Family poor or rich
Invitation *Winter Sun

Those who are in need
The beacon like a
poem of goodies mend

Heaven that feeling
called my own
Even things that
are special
became unknown
Not always about
being famous

Things that are simple
that's what remains
precious eat sleep Jeep
The fairy came sweet nectar deep
Was so kind humanly rare find
A special note with a motif
I will never forget what was our belief
A special God or Motif a spiritual beauty her leaf but even when you are deaf you can smell the beauty lingering everyone is  work of beauty just living
Brycical Jun 2013
about pictures of bears without any fur, and they look horrendously terrifying. Like ****** space gorillas you see in poorly done sci-fi movies. Do you think panda bears are still the cutest bear without any fur?

I wonder if dragons get lung cancer from all the smoking they do. I'd rather think about a hairless panda bear breathing fire--it's jaws sinking into the underbelly of a mortally wounded dragon and as it starts munching on the dragon pancreas, it accidentally sneezes causing it's lunch to incinerate to ashes.

That's probably why dragons are extinct. Hairless panda bears donned armor, riding horses; questing to eat dragon pancreas.

They also thought amor prevented lung cancer. It was the middle ages, people or animals didn't have modern technology to explain diseases, let alone where babies came from. Except for dragons, and look at how their species turned out.   ****, I'm throwing my phone in the toilet right now.
Fenix Flight Jul 2014
Down to my last bit of strength
Walk out of work in sobbing tears
Start the hike home
half a mile
81 degrees

"Yo Panda you look beat"
I stop dead in my tract
That voice
It shouldnt be here.
Is it really here?

Afraid to hope
afriad to believe
Take a gulp of air
look up.
Am I seing things?

Chillign against a car
a smirk across his face
arms crossed
sunglasses oddly on

Big brother Hawk
in all his dark glory
drove 8 hours give or take
just to make sure
I was ok.

Runnig into his arms
I cling to my big brother.
Wrapping them around me
lifting me up in a
big bear hug.

Safe, secure, peace.
In Hawks arms
I always feel
those three things
No matter what.

"You're safe now Panda,
I'm here for you,
You're not alone."

He whispers to me
And I know he means every word.
Tuesday (7/15/14) My best friend who is like a big brother to me drove all the way from Massachusettes to where I live just to make sure I was ok after my almost suicide attempt.
I love you so much hawk you are so important to me. thank you brother
Mitchell Duran Jun 2014
The night of the last Monday of October, Rowley Fair was in the back alley of The Purple Panda fist to fist with an Englishman who had told Wan to “get her rice-picking-*** an English beer and not any of that ***** stuff”. Rowley had never understood racism. He was also out of money and knew if he won, Wan would let him drink for free. Rowley was not a hero. He didn’t understand what that was. Rowley reacted, perhaps skimming the surface of the ideal when forced to do the hard thing to get what he wanted, but never on purpose. Also, he liked Wan and drinking. Mostly drinking.
He threw his fist up into Terry’s (the Englishman’s) chin. They both heard a loud crunch – Terry clearer than Rowley. Terry lurched his head back. It fell in between his shoulders, dangling there like a meat-filled apple about to fall from its branch. Rowley tapped Terry’s chest with the toe of his boot and down went Terry onto his back. Cody Horn handed Rowley a shot and a beer. He threw back the brown, finished half of the suds, and poured the rest on Terry’s face. Everyone laughed. Someone shouted, “Give’em another! Put tea time to bed!” Rowley swung his right foot back and brought it up into Terry’s jaw, feeling his bottom teeth smash and split into his top ones. There were a few scattered, lazy claps from the drunken hands that had been watching, but soon the coliseum fell away, leaving only the victor and the defeated. A seagull called out.
“Another round, Wan,” Rowley said, gently touching the crown of his head, “****** punched me on the top of my head. Who does that?” He looked around for Cody. He was talking to K, the local bike. They were leaving.
“Beer and a shot,” Wan said disinterested, placing the drinks in front of him. “You clean up the mess back there?”
Rowley nodded.
“Good.” Wan took a rag from somewhere and cleaned blood off the bar.
"Place slow tonight," Wan noted, "Why?"
Rowley shrugged, "Cold out there."
"How you know?"
"I was just out there fighting that englishmen," Rowley reminded her. He took a sip of his beer and noticed blood leaking into the frothy gold.
"Oh yeah," Wan nodded, "I forget. Where he anyway?"
"Who? The englishmen?"
"Yeah," she snapped, "Who the hell you think I talking about?"
"****," Rowley snorted, "Probably still back there. He called you rice-picker."
"I been called worse."
An hour passed and the englishmen still hadn't come back into the bar. The crowd had thinned. It was only Wan, Rowley, and a few college students that looked too soft to be there. Rowley contemplated following them out the bar, down an alleyway, and robbing them, but told himself he'd already had enough blood on his hands for one day. A seagull screeched outside as a distant police siren wailed over a few blowing fog horns from ships bobbing along in the bay. Everything was still and crisp, close and far away, silent and precise.
"One more, Wan," Rowley ordered, putting up his hand, "Another Anchor."
"You put on tab?"
"I thought I was drinking for free?"
"Why you think you drink for me?" she sneered, "Cause' you always ******' here?"
"Cause' of the englishmen, remember?" Rowley was getting tired of reminding her of this.
"I didn't ask you to do nothing," she countered, "Why I gotta' pay for something I don't even want?"
Rowley knew this was going to be an argument he would eventually lose, so he threw up his hands and pushed the stool out away from the bar.
"You leaving?" Wan asked, suddenly desperate.
"I'm broke," he admitted, "I got nothing left on me. Been broke since my first drink."
"Sit down. I get you beer."
Rowley looked towards the door, then down at the bar. He sat down.
"Thanks Wan."
She cracked the beer and put it in front of Rowley. "Don't tell no one. Next thing I know, I got every ******* *** in San Francisco coming here to fight foreigners for free beers."
"Lock and key are safe with me."
"Good." Wan waddled back to the far corner of the bar, slipped on her extra large reading glasses, and re-opened her Chinese newspaper. Rowley read the headline: KIDNAPPING SCARES CHINESE. He couldn't read anything else. It was all in Chinese. He looked down into his beer and watched the bubbles build up and explode. He finished that one, had another, then another with a shot, and then another. After that, Rowley had one more, noticed the college kids were gone and that it was 3AM. Wan was asleep with her bare feet up on the bar. Rowley shook her awake, where she instinctively attacked by swatting for his neck. She caught him in the arm pit and was going for another, but Rowley somehow drunkenly caught her hand and looked her in the eyes.
"******* Wan," Rowley blurted, "It's me!"
"Me who?!" she yelped.
"Rowley you little demon!"
"Oh..." she said, calming down, "I'm sorry. I can't see a thing in these glasses. They only to read."
Rowley let her go slowly, making sure she wasn't faking it, and took a few groggy steps back towards the door. "I'm heading out..." he gasped - He was surprisingly out of breath. "You'll be alright?"
"Huh?" Wan asked, startled, waking up, "Yeah! I be fine! What time is it?" But Rowley was gone, already out onto the streets trying to catch the last 1 bus to the outer sunset, which he caught just in time and rode alone until his stop on 44th. He nodded to the bus driver who sat motionless staring out the windshield, a cigarette dangling between their lips. The fog above was still rolling in thick and heavy as he walked to his apartment and entered. He undressed at the foot of his bed, leaving his clothes strewn on the ground, and climbed in to sleep a few hours before he'd have to get up in the morning to go to work.
The phone rang, startling Rowley out of his sleep. He rose out of bed, blinking into the morning sun that came in through blinds of the window. He looked at his nightstand clock. It read 4:45 AM. That left him with exactly two hours of shut eye. He moaned and rolled over, clapping his one extra pillow over his ear. The ringing stopped, but then, did a very curious thing: it started again. Rowley mumbled something to the affect of motherfugginleftbrainedhalfwitteddonkeylizardblowjobaskinforeski­nwearingcamelbackeddrunkpedderassmangocravingfreeeek out loud as he got up, but just as he reached the phone, it shut off again.
"Are you ******' kiddin'?" he asked out loud. He went to the bathroom to *** and poured himself a glass of water from the kitchen faucet. He lived in an in-law. Everything was conveniently near by.
As he started for his bed he calculated that if he slept one more hour, he could get a good three hours in before work. Sleep was of little importance to Rowley. As long as he got two, two and a half hours, he could do his job without killing anybody. He sat on the edge and started to finish the glass of water he'd poured, but the phone rang again. It startled Rowley so much that his hand shook, pouring water all over himself.
"*******!" he screamed, "WHO THE HELL IS CALLING ME RIGHT NOW!?"
He darted toward the phone and ripped it off the receiver.
There was silence on the other end of the line.
"HELLO!" Rowley shouted again.
"This is an automated message for Rowley Rubens. If this is Rowley Rubens please press one."
Rowley viciously pounded the one key on the receiver.
"You, Rowley Rubens, are not required to come in to work today. If you have any questions, please contact..." Rowley slammed the phone down on the receiver.
"*******..." he moaned, "Another pass."
And with that, Rowley threw himself on the bed and slept as long as he **** well pleased.
In the morning, Rowley rose at noon and made himself a cup of strong, black coffee. There was a single piece of bread and a single egg in the house. No milk. He couldn't remember the last time he went grocery shopping. He scoured his pantries for some form of food, be it crackers, moldy fruits, or canned goods, but there was nothing but soy sauce packets and half empty bottles of hot sauce. Dust lined the pantries where food should be and the plates he did own already looked *****, though they hadn't been used in weeks. Rowley gingerly took down a cup and placed it near coffee maker. Soon, he told himself.
There was a Splenda packet in the back of his tool drawer which consisted of: a baggy of rusted bobby pins, a tin of very old Pomade hair gel which he pocketed immediately, loose change of nickels and pennies, year old utility bills, old unpaid parking tickets back when he owned the 75' GMC truck (he was forced to sell it to pay rent and has been regretting it ever since), an empty pack of Marlboro Red's, a pocket knife, and various other tools and electrical wiring he picked up on the street thinking he'd use one day, but never did. He ripped open the baby pink Splenda bag and poured its chemically goodness inside.
"Now," he spoke aloud, "For the entrée."
He cracked the single egg on a lightly oiled skillet and tossed the egg shell in the garbage disposal. The single piece of bread sat there on the counter to the side. Rowley watched the egg as it popped and sizzled on the pan underneath the heat. He craftily flipped the egg over with a fork and watched and waited as the other side cooked. Once he believed it was finished, he took the pan off of the heat, turned it down, then placed the piece of bread on the burner. Dark circular burn marks quickly started to form, along with tiny trails of smoke. Rowley flipped the bread, let it sit for no more then 15 seconds, then placed it on a plate. He slid the egg from the pan to the plate and smiled.
After breakfast, he took a shower to wake himself up and threw on the clothes he had been wearing the night before: a slightly wrinkled plain white t-shirt, loose blue jeans that were two sizes too big, a clean pair of knee high socks, fresh boxer shorts he'd found in the back of his dresser drawers, and his work boots because they were the only pair of shoes he owned. Yet, once Rowley was dressed, he was at a loss of what to do with himself for the day. He checked his wallet. He had five bucks, which would get him lunch and a cup of coffee, but he thought he'd like a drink on his day off, so he remembered to reserve the five for a loaf of bread and a drink. He'd already had coffee today anyway. Anymore and he would get all jumpy.
Rowley walked down the hill to the Sutro Baths. Once a destination for the people of the city to swim and socialize, now it was just another tourist mark and outlook to the great expanse of the Pacific Ocean. There was a great diner on the edge of a cliff that Rowley loved to go, but since he'd already had his breakfast, he passed it by with a wistful indifference, breathing in the ocean air while the sun hit the back of his neck, warming it. He felt good trotting down the hillside toward the ocean, listening to the rumble of the waves and screeches of the seagulls overhead. For a moment, any worry he may have had dissipated like the morning fog and all was clear.
There was a large boulder, 30 yards wide and 25 yards in length, that sat at the edge of the water in the middle of the beach. The surface was made of jagged rocks and was very difficult to climb. Seagulls and young men stood at the peak of the boulder while Rowley stood looking up from the bottom. Behind him, European tourists snapped photos of their fit children, laughing and flexing with the blue sky with streaks of white clouds behind them. Behind the boulder, loud claps of the ocean slapping against the rock wall echoed across the beach. A dog ran down the length of the beach chasing a tennis ball while a young asian couple nervously asked a man who was walking alone to take their picture with the water behind them. The man begrudgingly snapped their photo, handed their camera back, and continued on to wherever he was going. Rowley watched this exchange and worried he had seen himself in the man in later years. People like me, he told himself, I'll never be a man alone on the beach wondering where to go next.
On the right side of the boulder, he watched a pair of two young boys make their way down along a narrow path. Rowley waited until they were on the beach, then clambered up the steep side from which they had came. There were other ways to go up the boulder, and Rowley had done them all, but this one to Rowley's surprise, was definitely the easiest. He was at the peak gazing out at the great Pacific with the Cliff House restaurant to the right of him in no more than three minutes. It usually took him ten if he went his usual way. Out of shape, he coughed and realized he was out of breath. He found a small rock that doubled as a seat on the edge of the boulder. In front of him was a great drop down to the ocean. He sat down and tried to catch his breath. After a minute or two, he wiped his brow, patted his pants pockets, and was elated to discover he'd remembered his cigarettes and lighter. He took one out and smoked.
He inhaled and exhaled and watched the grey smoke get caught in the wind. The knife edged waves rose and fell with an easy flow. A large oil tanker puttered behind the skipper's line like a great big dumb dog. Rowley thought it funny that sometimes there was such personality in man-made things. Why were they like that? The line connecting the skipper to the tanker looked so thin to Rowley, that he thought it should snap at any minute, but then, he remembered that he was very far away and that the line was much bigger than it appeared from where he was sitting. A "V" of pelicans drifted by Rowley. He followed them until they flew out of sight and out of his mind. His cigarette was nearly finished, so he decided to punch it out on the dry rock where he sat, proceeding to flick the **** out over the side. The cigarette soared from Rowley's hand as if leaping from it and dove down towards the cold ocean. It slid for a moment against the jagged edge of the rock until it finally landed softly onto the surface of the water. For a moment, it rocked back and forth with the ocean waves, but quickly, the filter became water logged, heavy, and sunk to the ocean floor. Rowley, unconscious of what his discarded cigarette **** was doing, looked forward and wondered what time exactly the sun would be setting and if he had enough time to get lunch, take a nap, and get to The Purple Panda before nightfall.
Rowley walked back up the hill to the cafe that overlooked the water. He ordered a coffee with an everything bagel,  butter on the side. As he sipped his coffee, he watched the waitress toast his bagel on the skillet. She wore a simple red dress with a floral pattern and had her hair up in a tight bun. Rowley already knew her name from her name tag, but asked it anyway.
"Nora," she told him, "How's your coffee?"
"Very good," he nodded.
The waitress eyed him, paused, and then asked, "You're that Rowley guy, aren't you?"
He looked down into his cup of coffee, then up into the waitresses eyes. Rowley didn't say anything.
"I've seen you before," she nodded, thinking where, "You live around here?"
"Kinda," he muttered.
A bell dinged. Rowley's food was ready. The waitress swiveled around on her heel and walked to the cook. The cook said something under his breath. The waitress smiled uneasily and shook her head. Rowley could see he wasn't wanted, at least wasn't wanted by the cook. He had no idea why. The waitress arrived back at Rowley's table with his order: a plain hamburger with everything on the side and french fries. She placed it gently in front of Rowley.
"I know where I've seen you," she smiled, "The Purple Panda."
Rowley looked up again at her grinning face, trying to remember it. He noticed how her crows feet on the outer edge of her eyes squeezed together tightly and her bright red cheeks were pushed up into a little ball. He had never seen her before in his life, but she seemed to think he was some kind of celebrity.
"Yeah," she started again, a twinkle in her eye now that she saw that it was him, "You're the guy always getting in fights at that place? Didn't you beat a guy up there just yesterday?"
"Had to," Rowley shrugged, starting to dress his hamburger, "******* called Wan a rice picker."
"Thats terrible!" she gasped.
"Yeah," he said, "I guess it is. I just don't like
Mark Oct 2019
The Frog That Took A Giant Leap For Their Kind"  
Forever being laughed at for not being able to leap  
Always last in the frog army sport, called ‘Jumping over the Jeep’
The little jump frog was embarrassed to belong to such an army  
So he packed his things and headed off on a long journey  
He crossed all over, the large wetlands of Florida USA  
Even made a makeshift home, made out of some hay  
After feeling a very warm heat, from about a mile away  
He came across some steps, but when climbing, they began to sway  
Frightened by a loud bang and an almighty explosive roar  
He hopped inside the nearest room, via a big white door  
Then, all of a sudden, he felt his feet, effortlessly lift off the floor  
Floating past a small window, he couldn’t see the earth, anymore  
After a while, the room hit the ground, with an almighty thump  
Looking out, he saw a strangely dressed man, pray and then jump  
He followed the man and went on down a few gigantic steps  
After making his biggest ever leap and without special effects  
Luckily, the frog was caught on camera, so became the first of his kind  
To reach the faraway moon and take a great leap, if you don't mind.  
"The Hare That Looked Out Of Place"  
The local country fair had arrived in town  
But one animal was looking angry and down  
For the farmworker had placed the hare at the fair  
With another breed of animal, without any care  
He looked out of place, while sitting in the dog pound  
To the hare it felt more like a very scary hunting ground  
One child yelled out, "That's a very small doggy, Mummy"  
No it's not, said Mummy, but it'll make the dogs meal taste so yummy  
She ran to the ticket seller and said, "There's a hare out of place"  
He said, I think your hair is fine madam, but here's some gel, just in case  
When the farmer found out, he ordered the workers to quickly catch it  
And to make sure there's no more hares where the dogs will sit.  
"The Sheep That Escaped From The Bars"  
The large family farm was not really up to par  
Because the farmer would keep the sheep behind an iron bar  
They wanted to escape from behind the metal brass  
And wander about and eat more of the fresh green grass  
Eating packaged food was not treating them well  
But they were getting upset tummies and not feeling that swell  
So they hatched a plan so they could graze on the vast land  
A billy goat agreed to fetch a plank of wood and give them a hand  
In return he would get all the leftovers of the sheep's fake food  
So one by one they took the plunge and escaped for a better mood  
The goat had a ball opening and then eating so much more  
And the sheep could be heard for miles, laughing Baa-Baa galore.  
"The Monkey That Lost His Grip"  
His name is Chip and he just can't get a grip  
He has to hold on tight for the entire round trip  
His friends in the troop said he wasn't very hip  
Always having to wear a parachute with a safety clip  
He tried to branch out one day, but fell and hurt his hip  
Then one day he got up early and decided to leave without the equip  
Now the monkey named Chip was so brave and he ran with a skip  
And he swung from branch to branch without any major slip  
His friends were in awe of his huge lunges and gave no more lip  
So from that day forth, everybody said he had great grip to do his solo flip.  
"The Cheetah That Wished For No Spots"  
Cleaning his teeth using long green grass as dental floss  
The healthy Cheetah often wished he had no more spots  
He was tired of hearing, while playing Hide n Seek, the sound,  
Of his animal friends yelling, "We give up, for you can't be found"  
He thought, maybe he could wash away his camouflage dots  
By soaking himself for a while, in some warm water and soap in pots  
It might be a long shot to remove those game wrecking blots  
But at least his friends would have fun playing in Africa's back lots  
No said his friends, you were born with all of them  
And after all, your spots make us all different, Amen  
So stay like you are and we will find you one day  
But never ever try and wash those unique spots of yours away.  
"The Zebra That Painted Her Stripes"  
She looked in the river and saw her reflection  
Her skin colour made males look in another direction  
For her colours were not really that bright  
With her body stripes painted in black and white  
So the next day the lady zebra decided to get a makeover  
By getting colourful paint and brushing it all over and over  
Now she felt like a beautiful diamond of a gem  
And maybe others would take notice, especially the men  
But the day she went back to her favourite watering hole  
Everyone thought she belonged on a merry-go-round pole  
Then it started pouring down, the hail and the wet rain  
And washed off all her colourful paint down the drain  
She wasn't that sad when she heard the laughter of other zebras  
For she was now world famous, from all of the tourist cameras.  
"The Mouse That Was Forever Getting Trapped"  
The poor little mouse was forever getting himself trapped  
He couldn't stop from smelling the cheese, even when wrapped  
His concerned mother told him to visit a hypnotist  
To try and help him get off cheese, you get the gist  
If he gets trapped again, he might not be able to tell the tale  
Because if the help he receives fails, his face will turn pale  
So let's hope this short tale of some very sore mouse tails  
Helps the other obsessed cheese loving females and males  
Can the poor little mouse keep away from the snap?  
Let's all hope that he doesn't forget, after taking a quick catnap.  
"The Panda That Got Bored Of Giant Plain Bamboo"  
Sitting under the tree eating gigantic bamboo stalks, sat a cute Panda  
But eating one thing all day long was boring for the cutie named Sandra  
So the workers at the zoo tried to change her diet to see what it would take  
They tried strawberries, oranges, pizza, meatballs and even rib-eye fillet steak  
But none of this food worked, to make Sandra the cute Panda, less bored  
The workers were confused why the delicious food was simply ignored  
She started to lose weight and became very agitated  
Quickly the zoo staff asked for help, but really they had to be educated  
For pandas only eat bamboo and not much of the world's fine food  
By just adding a bit of spice would've changed her boring mood  
They hurried back to the zoo kitchen to prepare a spicy dish  
Chopping and stewing and even adding a few drops of relish  
Sandra loved the change in her daily food of bamboo  
And was happy again chewing on her new tasting food at the zoo.  
"The Owl That Didn't Give A Hoot"  
When the sun went down and the moon came out  
Some owls could be seen in the trees hooting about  
But a strange noise one owl gave, was worse than a toot  
For the owl, for some reason, didn't give a hoot  
This strange sounding owl instead, made more of a screech  
A sound that the English owls have never been able to reach  
For this different style speaking owl, is on holidays from afar  
And his spoken language is so unusual to ours, by far  
The other owls wanted to know how to screech like this alien bird  
For they were so bored, with only knowing how to speak one word  
So they all took quick language classes to learn how to French speak  
And their guest also learnt to belt out a bit of a hoot, from his foreign beak.  
"The Spider That Stood Too Tall To Crawl"  
A large daddy long leg spider named Paul  
Had such long legs he stood too tall to crawl  
He looked like a gigantic monster, standing way up top  
All other spiders who saw him, would come to a complete stop  
Frozen in their tracks, insects would free fall and dive  
And go so low between his legs to hopefully survive  
The spider himself would get a face full of cobwebs  
As he walked so tall into his own hand made project  
Enough he thought, and off he went for a professional opinion  
The doctor said, he had a name for his rather tall condition  
It was called nothing at all, you are like this on earth  
For all daddy long leg spiders are like this since birth  
So he was told to bend down more often, stretch and do some exercise  
And to watch out for that high floating killer insect spider pesticide.  
"The Elephant That Couldn't Make A Trunk Call"  
While playing a game of elephant soccer together  
Using a coconut for a ball which was as light as a feather  
The elephant herd had finally ran out of pace  
One player named Noel didn't stop until he fell flat on his face  
When he got home later that night after his great fall  
He tried, but couldn't make his routine long distance trunk call  
But nothing came out and he went into shock  
Noel the elephant thought he had swallowed a rock  
So off down the road to the local doctor he went  
Also complaining about his loss of his favourite flowers scent  
The doctor first said, it could be all in your mind  
But after shinning a light he saw what it was, well down behind  
For it was the coconut the herd had been playing with before, with Noel  
After a tickle on the trunk, Noel shot it out and somehow scored a goal.  
"The Koala That Was Always Bare"  
Kyle the Koala loved to just sit in the trees and eat his leaves  
The tourist would come and take photos without having to pay any fees  
But he once took a peek at one of those friendly tourist's cameras Polaroid  
He saw some family pets wearing fashionable clothes and was rather annoyed  
For you see, Kyle then noticed, that he was always totally bare  
Dogs with jackets and cats with gloves, but he had nothing at all to wear  
So he decided to make all of the paparazzi pay for their shots  
When he saved enough money, he dressed up with the lots  
He purchased some pants, a hat and T-shirt and a colourful woolly scarf  
He felt more natural and not as bare, but mainly because, he made all of the tourists laugh.  
"The Rabbit That Stared Into The Light"  
When Warren the rabbit went out on the town  
He wore a lucky tail, pinned all the way down  
Hiding from cars, buses and motorbikes driving past  
Then hurriedly crossing the road, hoping not to be the last  
For if you were left behind, you'd be all alone to cross again  
And be able to have the strength to not look into the lights of the men  
But on this night he kept on staring straight into the light  
His mother always told him, to wear sunglasses at night  
The car stopped and out stepped the driver and along with his passenger  
Warren couldn't move even a bit, luckily for him, it was just a messenger  
The driver picked him up and placed him on the other side of the road  
Thanks, he said to himself, next time I might've got no respect, like that man showed.
© Fetchitnow
20 October 2019.
This children’s fun, colorful and rhyming, little THAT animal book is only for children from ages, 1-100. So please enjoy.
Wesley Willis Jan 2014
**** a polar bear's funky ***!
**** a racehorse's **** with Heinz Tomato Ketchup!
**** a donkey's ****** ***!
**** a male camel's **** with Hoisen sauce!

**** a cheetah's ****
**** a cheetah's ****
**** a cheetah's ****
**** a cheetah's ****

**** a European bison's smelly ***!
**** a woolly mammoth's **** with Miracle Whip!
**** a snow leopard's *** with whip cream!
**** a hyena's spermy ****!

**** a cheetah's ****
**** a cheetah's ****
**** a cheetah's ****
**** a cheetah's ****

**** a llama's ****** *******!
**** a panda bear's spermy *******!
**** a sloth bear's bootyhole!
**** a greyhound's musty ***, *******!

**** a cheetah's ****
**** a cheetah's ****
**** a cheetah's ****
**** a cheetah's ****

Polaroid, see what develops
Sum It Dec 2013
Have love ever been easy to deal with sympathy?
Just so, Her iron lung breathing calamity of apathy
Beyond eyes and words ,her beauty spoke
Kindle once vital, now perish slow with smoke
Suffocation cannot feel this good, can it?
a crime of love shall never see acquit

A poetess sung for me a poem of love
Soft words - with stings of  venomous dove
Being so deluded by some natural artsy
Dreams woven on silent obscure spree
Cold touch of her once warm soul
Shattering pieces  now never be whole

Poignant themes of once happy souvenir
Whispering breeze of lonely December
Brings me smile then tears falls down
a deep breath sigh and again I avow
holding onto the keepsake- my folded hands try
Squeezed by broken dreams- once more I cry!

— The End —