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Daniel James Dec 2011
Pandas are *******
No doubt about it
All they ever do
Is sleep, eat and sit

It seems that the zoo
Is their native habitat
Sleep eat sit, sleep eat sit
Until they get fat

With their mickey mouse ears
And their love of mascara
Oh sure they make great toys
But so does a llama

You can't ride a Panda
You can't teach them to fetch
And where d'you buy bamboo
If you want one as a pet?

They're no good at mousing
They don't never forget
They don't even purr
They need help having ***

No, pandas are *******
There's no doubt in my mind
A less de-pandable pet
You're unlikely to find.
Edit Jan 2016, be interested to hear comments
Redshift Aug 2013
i like red pandas because they sleep like they just don't give a ****
on a tree branch with their legs hanging off
like they're just ******* chilling.
Tyler Nicholas Mar 2011
A panda sit on the frozen water.
Another stares at me from the wall.
Two pandas.

Then my phone rings.
The bears sing!
And bees swarm from their mouths
and sting me with needles.

Needles full of ***!
LSD!
ACID RAIN!
ICE COLD *******!

And then there is no more pain.
Sleep comes.

The pandas sleep under my bed.
an aging APE developed arthritis in his ankles

several BATS tasted the nectar from the plum trees

Jessica's  CAT played with the ball of wool

DINGOS were seen skulking around the camp site

there are two types of ELEPHANTS the Asian and African

FERRETS are sent down rabbit warrens to flush them out

Helen saw a GIRAFFE at the wildlife reserve

I wrote a poem titled Hilary The HIPPOPOTAMUS

Who has a pet IGUANA?

Some people say my uncle is a *******

KANGAROOS  have muscular tails

Obama rhymes with LLAMA

in parts of Canada MOOSE roam on the loose

a NEWT likes being in a warm environment

some OCTOPI have black dye

baby PANDAS are cute and cuddly

in Australia we have a native bush QUAIL

RACCOONS live in rocky dens

a TAPIR has a very long nose

UAKARI monkeys hang out in the Amazon jungle

if you're looking for a VOLE you'll find him in a hole

WOMBATS move in a very slow manner

an XERUS is a mighty big species of squirrel

the Nepalese have domesticated YAKS

Doctor Dolittle has spoken to a ZEBRA
aviisevil Jun 2018
Gandalf: a character ( wizard) from the legend that is lord of the rings
...

chapter - 0:



he was walking past the useless lake on a breezy autumn day when the gust of wind brought with it the scent of a thousand abandoned garage bags littering the corner of this semi unorganised semi-civilised halli part of a mega city.

his home was about three thousand kilometres away and a dozen hundred dialects removed from where he chose to pursue his 'higher' education.

a term he took literally and to heart.

he was almost always high, if that's what you call being semi awake and always clawing somewhere deep, both mentally and sometimes even physically.


but as soon as the cacophony of a thousand different bad smells hit his soul, he knew the trip was over.

he jolted back to existence from an escalating thought process leading him to the discovery of a new and a better universe.

he took a deep breath and immediately regretted his decision, almost screaming in horror.

and while he was battling a lost battle trying to defeat an invisible and impossible to contain force of population and pollution,

his smoked eyes latched onto a figure emerging from the corner of his smoked eyes.

he suddenly realised where he was. and it wasn't where he thought he was about two seconds ago.

leaf-less and life-less trees stood where he could swear was just an empty slightly orange and red sky a few milli moments ago  

the lake had turned from blue to a shade of green or was it still blue ?
he wasn't interested at all, so he just gave up reasoning in mid-process..

what difference does it make ?

but suddenly his mellowed mind  realised the threat, and his attitude changed from i-don't-really-give-a-**** to oh-****.

there was something else there too, and he, like a ******* cat- turned around just in time to see what it was,

and the time stood still. he couldn't believe his eyes.

it was    gandalf.

**** it. he was sure. ******* gandalf.
with a ******* stick, his beard and that grey whatever. gandalf.

he took a deep breath again. it didn't hurt as bad as before. maybe it was growing on him. he took another breath just to make sure it wasn't. it wasn't.


and as gandalf started becoming bigger and bigger, he could see his mighty white beard dancing in the wind more clearly. he could sense his aura radiating a wonderful positive force that was almost impossible to describe with a naked eye and with an F  in communication skills.

gandalf was finally a stone throw away from the boy. he could throw a stone at him. he could but he wouldn't. no, he thought about it but no. it wouldn't make sense. it was too insane of an idea too. he wasn't yet ready to accept his true human nature that enjoyed the absurdity of violence.

though he was a hard-core stoner.  ah irony and puns.


instead he took the more scenic route and almost mumbled " gandalf?! what?!?! "


it took the old white man a second to register but he managed a sudden " gand elf, what?!? "

it wasn't awkward yet. but it was india. so it kinda' was.

the boy almost trained in apologising professionally and profoundly, mumbled " oh, no.. I'm sorry.. I just.. you know.. there's this .. dude.. people do cosplays now.. and I was a little high... ahem.. I mean I was thinking.. I mean I saw.. you.. I mean, I swear you're looking like a ******* gandalf.. I mean gandalf ?!?! "


another gust of wind and they both frowned.

gandalf responded " who .. what the **** is gand elf ?!?!"


the boy " he was supposed to be a dwarf like something.. but he become a wizard and tall, you know .. fought a dragon.. and rode giant birds.. ?!?! "


not gandalf " what the **** are you talking about, what is wrong with you, you're not making any ******* sense and I, I'm .. hey, you see.. just saying, I'm very good at making sense, that all "


the boy " so, are you like a ******* teacher or a .. scientist?!? "


not gandalf? "ummm.. well you can say that.. something like that "


the boy " what do you mean, for all I know you could be a perverted ******* who also happens to wander the woods doing weird cosplays and killing people. "

not gandalf " the ****, kid ?! jeez.. simmer down.. that TV is insane, you guys ******* love it.. **** man.. I should have stopped that from happening... and video games! god, they ****.. I should have just killed the lot of you.. " and on went a rant the strange man


the boy " wo.. wo.. whoa.. wait, you're talking like you are better than the rest of us...are you on crack ? what are you even saying you ***... you're more like someone who pulls on broken strings on a hand down guitar on some shady corner of an immaculate subway... you're just a boomer, are you not, mister ? "


strange man not gandalf " well, in a way I am.. I am.. well, I am everything and everyone" he whispered..    a satisfying smile almost breaking out


the boy " the ******* mean ******* ?!? "

this was too much for the old man who was just having a walk and minding his own business

he whispered more angrily his time " oh you punk, you little punk I'll tell you! I'm ******* god, you **** .. yeah, **** it.. I'm not even kidding.. I'm ******* god, yeah!... **** it *****!. "


he took his hand and pointed to the sky and the clouds parted.


the boy couldn't believe his eyes, and almost suddenly the clouds began to form a shape.

he couldn't make it out at first, all he could see was that the old man who claimed to be a god, drawing something in the air.

he looked up and finally realised what it was.

God was drawing a giant duck in the sky.

and as he was staring up in a mixture of disbelief and horror,  the old man spoke loudly " that's you.. you sick ****.. it's your little duck. "


old-man-now-god-went on "... I mean it looks like a big duck 'cause you couldn't see it otherwise.. but drawing to ratio... it's your little duck.. and the whole world can see it now.. and they know it's small.. and not as big as it appears because it had to be big enough for everybody to see.. "


the boy was now going insane. anybody would. people just don't turn up, part clouds and draw ducks in the sky.. that doesn't even happen in movies.



the boy went on- a little horrified of what he had just witnessed " what kind of a god are you, I mean... what in the god's name was that ? how did you do it. ?"


God responded with squinty eyes " which part of i-am-a-*******-God did you not understand.. you.. you stupid mortal. "

from the depths of darkness a flicker of light emerged in the boy's mind, and he realised something very important..


the boy " hey, you can't be god, god won't ******* curse! he's god. " screaming cautiously at the stranger...


God had heard petty arguments and had gone through all that phase of  people taking some time to turn around and warm up to the idea of the literal god in front of them, he'd been over that all his life.

but this was the single dumbest thing he had ever heard since he made the decision to create the universe in a hurry.

God thought to himself " I should have paid more attention. meh. "

one more thing- the boy went on " why are you a he ? not a she ? I mean if you're a god why be ... I mean an old man with a stupid beard. why not somebody hot, and cool... and with a nice body and a face... slightly better... or maybe much better..  you get the point, right ? I mean.. you're god, right ? "

God just stood there and soaked in his own filth.

the boy went on hysterically " oh my... did you hear my answer even before I said it ? did you ? I mean can you ?... and did you ? or was it you that gave the answer.. 'cuz if you made the universe.. you made me too, right ?. "


God was annoyed. like really annoyed at this point and he blurted out " you think I made you ? you think one fine day I woke up and I thought to myself.. oh! I've created this beautiful but empty place full of darkness and the cold, spectacle of fire dancing in nothingness- breathing life in ***** of all kinds circling around the stars and what not.. and you think I was like 'what am I missing ?'... oh yes, right! I'm missing one ungrateful ******* snake with a little duck. "


the boy stunned " God ?!.. No, **** no! "

god almost curios " why would you say that. why did you even speak , why! "


the boy " my duck .. you know.. ain't that ... small. "



God almost smirking " shut up, *****. "


the boy " oh, yeah.. right you... really know how to abuse your own species. jeez. "


God " I didn't make you ... I ******* dropped my dope in the ocean once and you ******* things came out of it. "

he went on " I thought you'd die on your own but nah.. life's too nasty.. ugly and ... you know... it's.. admittedly... quite beautiful. "

time stood still as soon as he said that.

and it was a beautiful moment. both god and the boy trying not to turn red or cry.



" but the sad part is.. " God whispered with the love of a thousand cuddling pandas " you guys found me, I mean... oh my God! that brain thing really worked ... extraordinary! my subordinates tell me ... very expensive.. err... I mean to design... "


the boy " people work for you ? what ?! that's like.. you have a staff ?!.. weird. "


God " *****, i'm ******* god.. I don't have a staff.. I ******* make the staff. and no that's not even an iota of weird.. but you know what's weird ...truly weird, a fact so crazy that it'll blow your mind and give you enough wisdom to tear through the fabric of the world I've made and undiscover all its secrets, science and gossip?!  "


the boy was now as curious as a teenage boy in teenage, he replied " what?! tell me.. is it here on earth ?!"



God " yes, it is my child.. indeed it is! such joy!... and it is also right here where we stand. "


the boy's mind went into an overdrive.. maybe this was all his design.. the almighty has come to show him the path.. out of these woods he's lost in.... and also a path of divinity and happiness.. and also he had watched Bruce almighty a dozen times or so... he was ready.


almost in a poetic voice filled with a general sense of elation.. the boy asked god " tell me.. please what is it pleaseeee ? "


the god smiled, in a way only a father smiles to her new born daughter.. knowing she's going to be paid less, has to go through the cycle of being temporary insane every month ( or that's what female's had been telling him .. it doesn't matter.. you a guy.. you see a woman in pain.. you *******... that's 10 hours of her ******* the life out of you. and you still wouldn't be a good listener or attentive according to her even if you give up in the 9th hour.

the boys repeated desperately " what is it! I'd be a good boy but please tell me pleaseeee! "

and the god smiled. he smiled and pointed to him. " that there , that is it.. that ugly ******* little duck of yours. "


and immediately burst into a laughter more grandeur than any sound in the world. I mean right after radiohead but whatever.


the boy saw his finger and tried to trace it's path. and almost in a moment.. it was over.


he had lost it- he screamed at the creator " you think you can make fun of me 'cuz you a big guy ? you think you can make fun of me because you're the most powerful thing there is and can literally turn me into 50 hands and no ducks... just living life in pure agony.. " he trailed off looking a bit distant towards the ending..

God " jeez. kid. you don't have to be so dark and imaginative unnecessarily.. see, okay I'm sorry... I hurt your little heart...which by the way I have made and do own the materials to.. and that's why you're alive... basically all of you and everything.. now to think of it.. it does make me a big guy... or more than that... but that's not the point. "

he went on " the point is i should've known better... because you know I made it all.  even the concept of being better..  booom! blows your mind ain't it.. chuck it.. and the point is.. I should've known better, so I'm  sorry!.. you can tell people I said sorry but they're not 'gonna believe someone like you "


the boy " **** do you mean someone like me?! " back in his form


god " oh you know... someone with a small...... ******* duck !"

and the god fell down laughing hysterically and immediately as soon he said the words..

rolling all over the soft grass and the boy's face.


the boy had enough- he screamed " **** like you can spend two minutes being a human... who's to tell you didn't have a small duck and then just made yourself one big enough " his voice trailing in the wind


god hadn't been spoken like this since the invention of languages.. oh how much he despised languages..a ******* constant annoying noise in his head specially the bengali.. **** them.

God spoke back " oh, so you think being a snake is better than being the almighty ?! "


the boy " I'm not a snake.. I'm a human.. what school did you got to ? "

God " you can be a ******* rock for all I care ... just be nothing.. you know.. instead of being everything.. the idea of it... it's is rather.. you know... so beautiful. "


and at that moment the boy realised that even god wasn't immune to something that he didn't know.


the god " I'll do you a deal, you be two seconds in my place and I'll be two seconds in your place... and then we'll know.. I'll know the fear of being nothing and you can know the escatsy of being everything. deal dawg ?"


the boy " but.. like two seconds .. awful less of a time to enjoy any kind of escatsy "

God " running late, mate. "


the boy " okay okay.. let's do it "



God smiled a bit and immediately a giant light came down from the sky roaring with a thousand thunderstorms...

wind was growing stronger by the second and it was almost impossible to hear anything... or analyse anything for that matter...

God screamed at the boy " it's going to go in your *** and out of your mouth.. and your soul will be passed to mine.. "

the boy screamed back in oh-my-god-that-face horror barely making any coherent sense.


God rolling on the floor laughing
" jeez. I'm kidding you punk.... that face tho.. so woke.. so woke..."

it took some time but he picked himself back up and screamed at the boy " it's going to happen... three..two.. one.. " and boom


the boy felt what can only be described as the best ****** anybody has ever had.


the god felt like what can only be described as the hardest kick to the nuts in the history of universe.

two seconds after... bam! everything stood still.. like nothing had happened.


both stared at each other for a while..
God went first " so, ... ?! "


the boy " yeah. "


God " pretty tense...yeah.. *******.. I mean.. God!.. you guys are awful to be.. it *****.. I gotta' change that thing... you know... about people taking their own life... and going to hell... I get it... I mean..  yeah.. you know... like whatever."

God went on " how was yours. "

the boy " yea.. pretty chill.. ... "

God " that it, boy ?! "

the boy " yeah. .. mostly "


God " hmm.. woke.. woke... so were you clever enough to do something for yourself ? "

the boy " oh..yeah..pretty much.. nice cars and girls.. stuff.. " his voice cracking with a very refined i-don't-give-a-**** attitude


the wind was still now. butterflies were flying between the blooming flowers and singing AC/DC for some reason. it was pleasant.


god snapped his finger once and said " so.. yeah i should go now... apparently somebody's supposed to take a picture of me in the sky.. gotta flex up.. chow~ "


God snapped his finger a second time and lo behold!  like that he was gone ****!...


the boy stood still for a moment longer. he smiled and walked away.




(4 days later...)



god was in the alps...looking out of the large window wondering how dreadful it is to be human..  

and as he was crawling in and out of different dimensions he smelt something. something interesting.


it was alcohol. ( he's god so it's very easy for him to figure out such little things.)

so he went over the fancy bar and poured himself some *****.. " ah potatoes.. at least they turned out to be just right.." he thought out loud.

and then he proceeded to drink himself to death.. countless times. 'cuz he could do that. he was god.


over and over again. glass being neither full or half or even ******* empty.

drink after drink. and soon late enough he went into a deep slumber because of course god loves a good sleep. who doesn't ?


he slept through the entire life span of many insects and until the breaking dawn.

the first rays of the sun hit the mighty alps as well as the face of this almighty being on a white bed in a red hotel by a blue lake who had forgotten you do your own curtains in the human world.

his first thought was to destroy the sun- it took a lot to not lift his finger.

slowly but surely he regained his infinitum consciousness, and got in touch with the multi dimensional universes sprawling all over every  second in past and future simultaneously... but **** that 'cuz the head ache oh! so painful.. almost made him forgot he could just not want it and it won't happen.

God did not enjoy most human banalities.. but he did enjoy a rather a peculiar one...even more than drinking and kissing death. the one of peeing.

and he had to ***. bad.


God, with a hint of a smile lifted his finger and boom he was right by- where the deed is done in a civilised community. he imagined what would people think if they came to know why he's always more often than not a 'he' than a 'she'.

he was in his stark boxers, standing almost naked with a smile on his face enjoying the rush.

pink floyd started playing out of the thin air. an autumn's calm spread through the veins of this sudden universe. I kid you not, shahrukh khan was there with his arms wide open.

slowly the god began the almost holy ritual.

pull down the garment. admire. take it out. admire. do the deed, keep admiring. put it back. sigh. very well organised and neat.

so god took a deep breath, looked at the alps one more time, looked down with a smile on his face, and slowly pulled down the garment... his consciousness in a rush.

and then god screamed. there was a duck.
I don't think it's your average run of the mill tale. there should be more than what's meeting the eye usually.
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
wordvango Aug 2015
there she sat licking her paws
and her teats red and raw,
pondering, perhaps, how four black
and white kittens
happened.

There in a laundry basket
four little kittens mewed,
wondering where, their momma
was, all they knew was
hunger.

Finally settling together
all curled around each other,
all given spent in their mews,
they slept one white
and black furry
cute.

Until momma cat, her name Panda,
finished grooming her tenderness,
returned all awaking their
mewing, again.
And she licked them.
He doesnt care, why do you?
because the sky is blue,
because pandas eat bamboo,
because Bruce Lee learnt kung-fu,
because after one comes two.

You think my answers are stupid?
well so is your question!
Tommy W Sep 2016
A forest of green
Bamboo stalks surround us
With long thin leaves
Before they were taken by thieves

Tasty bamboo
Growing out askew
The sky is blue
It’s a wonderful view
A-choo!

(Short pause)

A-choo!
A panda has the flu
As I look in the distance
I see the end of their existence
Humans and machines
Destroying their land by any means
Their Bamboo has been taken
And replaced with smoke

This is no joke
No humans spoke
Until they finally awoke
To see the pandas are dying
In what was once their land
All by our hand

Not quite what we had planned
Maybe we should’ve thought of this beforehand
In my Creative Writing class we are supposed to describe a mind of someone, real or fake, as if it were a place. I think I did that, and added on a little bit.
Anyways I really liked how it turned out. Hope you guys do too!

Also, if you read through my poems lately they're meant to be happy then result in death. Jeez my mind must be very dark haha. I wonder what it'd be like to write a poem about my own head as a place.
Mateuš Conrad Mar 2016
and some animals didn't evolve, because they
thought higher things of the dream-world,
say bonsai felines, koalas, sloths, having
evolved we shouldn't have allowed a concern
for dreams, after all, there was mining to do,
wheat to harvest, concern for dreams obstructed
certain thing: firstly a privilege of the rich,
and when stated by someone of lesser "rank",
completely disregarded; trying to find the oedipus
but unable to find him: guten tag kaiser, wilhelm das zweite!*

i'd still prefer the laziness
of the diet of a panda
rather than complicating things
with food restaurant critics
and fussy eaters, i.e.:
eat this, or starve, your choice.
Mateuš Conrad Nov 2018
.i honestly don't know who Spengler is... perhaps just a zenith for a man of his times, who, needs to be carried by someone like Heidegger, into a notable mention in the 21st century reader...

point being... man is not an illustrious
biological creature...
             yet how Heidegger puts it...
this ignorant proclamation of
the abandonment of beings by being
...
which, if i remember correctly,
    instances of the intimidation of
"facts"...
      now... i understand facts as those
pointers with a numerical back-up...
a fact isn't a fact if it is merely worded...
that's an opinion...
  a fact looks something like this...
      the area of a circle = πr²
to me... that's a fact...
          for a fact to be a fact
there has to be a numerical addition
to said fact... what is a big bang theory,
or the Darwinism of "history"?
approximations...
         even in face of π... being seemingly
endless...
   well... the infinitesimal division of
the square...
  in short... π = o / ω
               π equals the omicron divided
by the motion of omicron
in the form of ω... rolling... spinning...
in an orbit...
a fact is a fact, to me,
when the "fact" isn't merely worded...
Darwinism doesn't have a definite
numerical proposal for its wording...
as neither does the big bang theory...
after all... we are biologically flawed
animals...
          we're not pristine biological
artifacts... for ****'s sake...
we get a toothache and we turn ballistic!
how is the biology of Darwinism
actually translated via
humanism and philosophy?
                    it's translated as
the zoology of Darwinism...
               yes, we are zoologically on
top...
  but biologically? don't think so...
we are inclined to think about
(if any) history interference with creating
the present borrowing from Darwin,
precisely because we are the highest
zoological outcome...
we're the ones who can cage animals...
animals can't cage other animals...
we're not the highest biological
specimen...
   but we are the highest zoological
specimen...
                       if we were the highest
biological example...
we... say... wouldn't be susceptible
to... viruses...
  our complex brains could avert infections...
i don't know how... telepathically?!
we're such a grand zoological specimen
in that we can interest ourselves
in borrowing traits and characteristics
  from the specimens we isolate...
but to my "knowledge"...
     bad ******* move...
                  i still don't understand
the mindlessness of accepting both the big bang
theory, and the theory of evolution
as facts...
                       concrete facts...
this scientifically secular dogma
                       with a rigidity that defends
itself with ridicule... oh no... not the religious...
humanism...
       it's not going after religion...
humanism is at stake,
esp. the bridge between humanism and
science... philosophy...
so we evolved to do x, y, z...
  just as the gorilla evolved to do x, y, z...
i find that we're biologically
intimidated by an animal...
the fact that an animal requires
so little, and so little has changed...
to perpetuate its existence...
while we have been forced into an endless
spiral of over-complicating things...
we're not fallen in the classical respect
of what that Genesis metaphor implies...
you chose, the harder route...
doesn't anyone think that...
hell... one monkey in the tribe
gets eaten by a snake...
these days it's a dozen peeps get shot
by a PTSD crazed ape-**** ex-marine...
what's the difference?
   but having a body like a gorilla,
and having the gorilla strength,
from what? a ******* vegan diet?
       how much... whatever the body-builders
take does it take... to have the equivalent
of a fifth of a gorilla's strength?!
see... an over-complication spiral...
and how do animals resolve their
social problems and their fears of death?
on mute.
                  no chit-chat... instinctively...
it would appear that silence can convey
more truths than the logos of man's
blah blah blah...
          we didn't evolve biologically...
but sure as **** we evolved zoologically.
trick question...
  in this... glorious labyrinth of thought...
would you rather be killed
by a tiger... mercifully...
or by a jeffrey dahmer... mercilessly?
              i'd pick the ******* tiger!
evidently psychology emerged after
people inverted their zoological
"evolution" on themselves,
     having, somehow exhausted
their first curiosities with the originally
caged animals.
  we didn't evolve biologically...
what has thinking to do with all
the biological advantage of the current animals?
like bears... who don't have to put up
with the blues of winter, escaping
it to hibernate?!

p.s. and this whole feral animal living
in constant stress of finding food?
yeah... pandas, sloths and koalas
look... really stressed...
and whatever happened to the carnivorous
thrill of the chase?
at least these specimens don't
need to deal with the *******
of having it inverted into a ***-honing
metaphor;
   i suppose a filled stomach
feels much more gratifying than
emptying a ******* sack.
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.
tonylongo Apr 2020
unlike other web platforms
this one doesn't let you post news articles
so I'll just say what it is

Two giant pandas in the Hong Kong zoo,
which has been closed for months due to corona,
have just mated successfully
for the first time
in ten
years.

If you're an animal lover like me,
you've been hearing for ever about
how they couldn't get pandas to mate in captivity
and how scientists were at their wits' end
(since the animals' actual habitat is vanishing)
about how to keep the species going.
There was always plenty of money around
to support their efforts, since giant pandas
are so popular with people! - but, somehow,
money wasn't doing the trick.

Now, finally, the ultimate discovery!
All the pandas needed was to be
SOCIALLY DISTANCED
from the tens of thousands of looooooovvvving humans
that had plagued every day of their existence
for ten years. Their financial support is good,
their actual physical presence.....maybe they can watch videos,
if the government there does not object.
Blossom Nov 2017
I've been hit by Life
She's ran me over twice;
Sometimes she can be nice,
A friend you call for free food.
But most of the time, it seems
She's that crazy ex outside your house
Wielding a blowtorch
Begging for you to make a wrong move
: ) I'm ok
Bella Dec 2019
(Meant to be read in the voice of a child)
Grandma says, that she grew up in the water
She says that she lived on the edge of a place called Myrtle Beach
That she could drive 15 minutes and then jump into the sea

She says- that the smell of sea salt and seagrass is the smell of home
And that she can still hear the sounds of crashing waves on an empty beach
She says that the best feeling was sinking under a wave and watching the crisp clear current pull the water over her--

I told her that I went to a beach too!
Momma took me back to where she used to live
To get to the beach we had to cross two bigggg rivers
Grandma said that one of those was a creek when she was my age.
That men dug the other-- by hand a long time ago 90 feet across
But they are much bigger now!

I told Grandma that when I got to the beach, there were a bunch of buildings, right there in the water
I said it was silly of people to leave buildings in the water like that.

I asked-- if we tried to keep those buildings out of the water
And she said no...

I asked-- if we knew they were gonna get so wet
Grandma said-- that we knew since the 1950’s
She told me about a scientist named Edward Teller
Who gave a big speech to the important people
He predicted the future in 1959
And told them the ice was going to melt.

I asked why we let it melt...
and then grandma got real quiet...


...I’ve-- seen pictures of the ice in school.
--We learned about polar bears and penguins
We even went to visit them in the zoo
My teacher said they only live in zoos now.

We-learned-about-coral-too!
We learned-- that they are animals that look
kind-of like rocks
-Or like plants!
-Or like jellyfish!
We learned that fish like to live there-
Fish like the ones in NEMO!
My teacher said there’s not much coral left...

I asked--
why the coral at the aquarium
didn’t look all bright and colorful like the movies
I asked-- why there were no Nemo’s in the aquarium
I asked-- what that big ocean current was called
I asked-- if sea turtles still ride in the E..ast Austra...lian current

She said that the Clown fish died when the coral was bleached
-And there aren’t many sea turtles
-And there is no more current
-Because the waters are too warm

I asked how the water got so warm,
I asked-- Who Did It!
She said Everyone
And I didn’t understand that

I asked grandma if she did it!
She said yes-I said How

She said every time she drove her car
And every time she flew on an airplane
And every time she used a plastic cup
She released carbon into the environment

I asked how all those things made carbon
She said that carbon comes from burning things
She said that we burn things to make energy

I asked if we could make good energy
She said that we can
We can use water, wind, and sunlight to make
~Clean~ energy

I asked if we made clean energy
Grandma said that only 15% of our energy was clean

I asked how carbon made the water hot
Grandma told me that when carbon goes into the air
It traps heat near the earth
Kind-of like a blanket
And it makes the air warmer

She said that the ocean
and the ocean animals
try really hard to absorb the carbon,
But too much carbon is bad for them

I asked why it was so bad
She said that carbon was an acid
~like lemons~
And when the ocean absorbs the carbon,
The ocean becomes more aaa-cidic
And most fish can’t live in a-cidic water


I remember learning that plankton
can’t live in acidic water either
My teacher said that plankton are very important
They make oxygen
And they feed the fishes
I even heard they used to make the water green

I told grandma
about the field trip my class took to the Smithsonian
There was a new shellfish exhibit
The teacher said
that everything in the room was extinct or endangered
There were *****- and oysters- and corals

The sign said that-
“these shells can’t form in acidic water”
I asked the teacher if ***** and oysters and things were important
She said that they were an ess...ential-
Source of food for coastal communities

I asked if they were so ess...ential--
than why didn’t we protect them…

She told me that some people tried to help
She said people talked about it
and bought less plastic
And supported sus...tan...iable companies
She said that there weren’t enough of those people

I asked-- what could have protected them
She said-- that poli...ticians and CEOs could have protected them
She said-- that if there were laws
restricting or banning fossil fuels
Or carbon emissions
We could have kept the ***** alive

I asked why the poli...ticians didn’t make those laws
She said that the poli...ticians were good friends
With the oil companies
She said that if they made those laws
Their friends would lose money

But that doesn’t make sense because-
Grandma told me
We ended up spending more money
Reacting to climate change
Than it would have taken
To prevent climate change.

I just don’t understand so much--
It doesn’t make sense...

Grandma--
I wanna know why there’s more plastic in the ocean than fish
I wanna know why we wear air masks when we go outside
I wanna know why there are so many hurricanes
And fires
And droughts
And floods
I wanna know why your old house is underwater
I wanna know what waves looked like without trash in them
I wanna know why lady liberty is drowning
I wanna know what hawaii was
I wanna know why california is on fire
And why Charleston doesn’t exist
I wanna know why there’s no coral
Or fish
Or pandas
Or tigers
Or butterflies
I wanna know why there are so many wars over food
I wanna know why we’re out of water
I wanna know why there are walls in the ocean
I wanna know why you didn’t listen to the scientists---

I wanna know why you didn’t do anything to fix it!
I thought this was a compelling way to discuss climate change because of the emotional tie. I hopped writing this poem from the voice of a child (and more specifically the future grandchild of mine or of the reader’s) would make the reader think about how their climate impact will affect their own children and children's children. Hopefully this could cause readers who wouldn’t normally be concerned with climate change to empathize with the writing. Using the voice of a child also helped me to tie in so many different topics (because children are so scatterbrained). I hope this is able to reach a larger demographic than the typical climate change essay or journal. (ps. I based this off of 50 years in the future just for reference to accuracy).
Allen Page Feb 2015
Pandas are fluffy.  Labradoodles are…
Bake the road, crush the world.
Richard Feynman, Freddie Mercury?
Can you be unique?

We are defined not by ourselves
but by the Television set
by the media
by our leaders

What the hell is this Orwellian nightmare?
Do we exist independently?
Individuality is discouraged
unless you have money

This postmodern splash
The drones of nighthawks, flapping by the shores
The shores of Calavera, of San Luis Obispo
If the mountains drifted out to sea

Let the toaster rule you.
Let the media.
Not like you can stop them.
Wheee! Ride, piggy, ride!
Signs point in different directions
Art>
<Science
History^
Oddities¿

Art:
Every memory of every sunrise
Every beautiful melody
Here.
And so many images of her.
Some sweet
Some candid
Some sad.
How can we revel in the joyful
Without knowing it's opposite?
Every delicate poem
Every lyric yelled
Every painting
Every sculpture
And in all of them,
Her.

Science:
Models of molecules
Diagrams of data
Sketches
(Where are the equations?)
Math is forbidden in this museum.
Lectures
Theories
All gathering dust.

History:
Names.
The greatest of men and women
Julius Caesar
Constantine
Marc Anthony
Cleopatra
Rosa Parks
Elinor Roosevelt
Patton
Churchill
Kennedy
MLK

Maps and charts
Famous cities of old
Sparta
Alexandria
The halls of Montezuma
Constantinople
Babylon

Oddities:
Phantom Kangaroos
Homemade Bazooka
"That made the news?"
And Bubblegum the Baluga

The Raven Empress
Flaming mattress
Sharks with lasers
Pandas with Tasers
What the heck just happened?
Camila Narita Oct 2017
Black and white.
Furry. As soft as silk.
A herbivore that eats bamboo.
Giant. Red.
Pandas. Beautiful pandas.
Cute but not very cuddly.
Kept in captivity.
Some in the wild.
Pandas.
A truly amazing creature.
To Angela, the panda lover.
Meghan O'Neill Apr 2014
I love you more than I love my Momma
And quite a lot more than Republicans love Obama
I love you more than Miley loves twerking
And probably as much as teenage boys love jerking.
I love you more than hipsters love instagram
and about the same as the turn of the century loved the telegram.
I love you more than Hans loved Anna
and just as much as monkeys love bananas
I love you more than the asdaf kid likes trains
and most likely more than Anastasia liked pain.
I love you more than pandas love extinction
and probably less than pansexuality needs distinction.
I love you more than John loved his best man
and I ship us more than any fandom can.
I love you more than beliebers love Justin
and definitely more than **** maids love dustin'
I love thee more than Shakespeare loved tragedy
and the same amount as Ann is raggedy.
I love you more than Peeta loves Katniss
and almost more than cats love catnip.
I love you more than teachers love cheaters
but probably not as much as Jesus loved Easter.

I love you to the moon and back
and there is nothing that you do lack.

<3
Tilly Jun 2012
BAMBOO grows SO TALL

Pandas   s   t   r   e   t   c   h   to eat it all

(not just shoots and leaves)
An ailuropoda melanoleuca  or  B & W melancholic haiku in B & W
*chuckle*
Nigel Morgan Jun 2014
A suite of fourteen poems

for Alice, always

I

Cutting for Silage

Seen
on the path close to the field edge
a swathe of green grass cut,
Left
in the wake of the machine
to dry in the hopeful sun,
Rich
in a profusion of grasses,
glimmers of wind flowers,
weeds and tares.

Seen from afar
the cut fields partition this landscape
with stripped overlays
packaging the valley,
dark green rows revealing
the camber and roll of
a naked field shorn,
Dark upon light.

II

Walk to Porth Oer

Where the sand whistles
and windy enough today
for the tinnitus to set in,
we’ll walk the curve of its dry fineness
left untouched by the tide’s daily passage
up and back

before
and along cliff paths,
from the mountain
past secret coves
whose steep descents
put the brake on all
but the determined,
beside shoulders of grasses
bluebelled still in almost June
now hiding under the rising bracken
up and down

we’ll walk to a broad view
of this whispering bay
where below on the sandy shore
dots of children
tempt the slight waves.


III

Cold Mountain

Whether  a large hill
or officially a mountain
it’s cold on this higher place
wrapped in a land-mist,
the sea waiting in breathless calm
where the horizon has no line,
no edge to mark the sky.

Any warmness illusory,
in sight of sun brightening a field
far distant, but not here,
where waiting is the order of the day,
waiting for grass to shine and sparkle,
for bare feet to be comforted
by sweet airs.

Meanwhile the sheep chomp,
the lambs bleat and plead,
the choughs throaty laugh
a shrill punctation, an insistence
that all this is how it is.


IV


China in Wales

In my hermitage
on this sea-slung place,
a full-stop of an island
back-lit illuminated always,
I view the distant mountains,
a chain of three peaks
holding mist to their flanks,
guarding beyond their heights
a gate to a teaming world
I do not care to know.


V


Wales in China

O fy nuw, I thought
my valley only owned such rain,
but here it teams torrential
taking out the paths on this steep
mountain side. Mud
everywhere it shouldn’t be.
Everything I touch damp and dripping.
No promise of pandas here.
And there’s this language like the chatter of birds,
whilst mine is the harsh sibilants of sheep
on the hill, the rasp of rooks on the cliffs.


VI


Boy on the Beach

Heard before seen
the boy on the beach,
a relentless cry
of agrievement, of
being badly done to.
This boy on the beach

following his mother
at a distance
then no further.
‘I hate you, ‘ he screams,
and stops,
turning his back on the sea,
folding his arms,
miserableness unqualified,
no help or comfort
on the horizon he cannot see.
It is attrition by neglect.
He becomes silent, and called
from a distance, relents
and turns.


VII


The Poet

Austere, his mouth
moved so little when he spoke,
you felt his words
were always made in advance,
scripted first
and placed on the auto-cue.
Ask a question: and there’s a long pause

as though there lies
the possibility of multiple answers
and he’s running through the list
before he speaks, his antenna
trained on the human spirit,
full of doubt, doubting even
belief itself.


VIII


A Gathering

Thirty, maybe forty
and not in a lecture room
but a clubhouse for the sailing
look you. And we did,
out of the patio doors
to the sun-flecked sea below us,
here to honour a poet’s life and work
in this village of the parish he served
at the end of the pilgrim’s path .

Pilgrims too, of a kind, we listened  
to the authoritative words
of scholarship where ironing
the rough draft found in the bin,
explaining the portrait above the bed,
balancing the anecdotal against the interview,
reading the books he read
become the tools of understanding.

But the poems, the poems
silence us all, invading the space,
holding our breath like a fist.



IX


In the Garden

He came alone to sit in the garden
and remember the day
when, with the intimacy of his camera,
he took her, deep into himself;
her look of self-possession,
of calmness and confidence,
augmented by butterflies
motionless on the wall-flowers,
and the soft breath of the blue sea,
her soft breath, her dear face,
freckled so, his hand trembling
to hold the focus still.


X


The Couple from Coventry

Young beyond their years
and the house they had acquired
but only to visit at weekends for now,
they drove four hours to open the gate
on a different life, a second home
requiring repairs on the roof
and replastering throughout.

With their dog they were walking
the mountain paths, checking out the views,
returning to the quiet space
their bed filled in an upstairs room
echoing of birth and death:
to experiment further with loving
before the noise and distraction
of children swallowed up their lives.


XI


On Not Going to Meeting

There was an excuse:
a fifteen mile drive
and a wet morning.
He had a book, a journal
that might focus his thoughts
towards that communion of souls:
a silence the meeting of Friends
sought and sometimes gathered.

These experimental words
of a man who felt he knew
‘I had nothing outward
to help me,’ who then, oh then,
heard a voice which said,
‘There is one, even Christ Jesus,
that can speak to my condition
. . .  who has the pre-eminence,
who enlightens and gives grace
and faith and power.’


XII


New Life

From behind its mother
the calf appeared
tottering towards the gate,
but after a second thought,
deeming curiosity inappropriate,
turned back to that source
of nourishment and life.


XIII


A Walk on Treath Pellech

Good to stride out.
Good to feel unencumbered
by the unconfining space
of beach and sea, a shoreline
littered with rocks and shallow pools,
sea birds flocking at the tide’s edge.

Alone he sought her small hand
and wished her there over time and space
so to observe what lay at his feet,
that he might continue to look
into the distance with a far-flung gaze.


XIV


The Owl Box

James put it there.
One of forty
all told but
empty yet.
‘We live in hope,’
he said.

Slung from a bough,
bent and bowed,
on a wind-shaped tree,
a hawthorn blossoming still,
(inhabited by choughs a’nesting)
the box hangs waiting
for its owl, her eggs,
her fledgling young
who are not hatched together
but are staggered as though
to give the mother owl some
pause for thought.

Meanwhile the nesting choughs
tear the air with tiresome croaks,
a bit of rough these black characters,
neighbours soon to the delicate mew,
the cool, downy white of the Athene noctua.
The poet celebrated in this suite of poems is R.S.Thomas.
Anais Vionet Dec 2023
Santa Claus is coming.
This isn’t a luck situation.
He knows things, like if you’re sleeping.
Which is kind of creepy if you think about it.
I suppose I’m an open book.
It’s an implacable reality.

oops, better rhyme something.. let’s see..

“Santa, that elf commanda
will bring you all a panda
fresh from the jungles of Uganda
straight to your verandah”

Whew.. art is hard work.

Leeza has a small aluminum-tinsel Christmas tree in her room with a new-age LED-star topper. It slowly prisms through the color spectrum, breaking down light, like modern jazz. Small things can still enchant, if you’re open.

I was sipping dark-chocolate coffee while Lisa rearranged the ornaments on the tree - again (as head-elf, the tree is her purview). She was humming to herself unconsciously as she worked, like a finch in a beautifully lit, evergreen garden. There was no real melody to it, it was just happiness.

Peter (my bf) is here, he arrived last night - we’re workshopping instant gratification.

Even if things have been tough - I hope you have a joyous holiday - that you chose it, like an option in an app. Nothing’s sweeter than the bruised joy of someone who’s known sorrow.

Merry Christmas Everyone!
(*BLT Marriam Webster word of the day challenge: Purview: an area of authority*)

CORRECTION: Pandas live in a few mountain provinces of south central China.
Endia Chardea Sep 2014
Things that are black and white

Pandas
Zebras
News Papers
Clothes
People
Jamison Bell Sep 2017
"Jamie." She said.
"Could you write me something?"
The inflection was in the "me", the "something" reflected a longing. Was it a longing to have me specifically, pen something for her? Or was she going to be happy just to be regarded? Regardless. I wrote this.

This moment will come to pass, I'm presumptuous this way.
But as sure as there'll be another amber sky, I'll think of you one day.
Of where you were here and now and that look you wear so well.
And I'll hope that you are happy with no regrets that you would sell.
Perhaps it is life's fancy and we may meet again one day.
You'll greet me with that smile that makes me search for words to say.
So whether this is it and our paths aren't due to cross.
Or we find ourselves with ourselves because we are simply lost.
I wish for you the best my friend a rarity you are to I.
Your presence was a present but I must say goodbye.
Tom Turner Feb 2022
Are Pandas
Black with White trim
or
White with Black trim?

Or are they just Bears
and black and white
are just colors.
samasati Apr 2013
it’ll be shaved legs and summer dresses
without cardigans
sunkissed hair, skin, eyes even
though you’ll never know, I wonder,
would your eyes burst out of their sockets
like rockets
if you saw that much of my skin
under healthy light?
instead of naked in your bed
I’m untouchable,
a fantasy, barefoot in a meadow
skin so wanted
- though she’ll be wearing hers
blatantly and ready
for you to have,
smoking a cigarette she says is her
last
because
‘she’s only smoked three
this week’
she’s proud, sure she is
though you’re not even sure you care at all
and the sun makes the day longer
the moon makes the night as romantic
as Paris
and you’ll get along
even though you don’t smoke
and she doesn’t know what it means
to not need you
and she doesn’t know what it means
when you’re with and crave the skin
of another woman
- like me for instance -
but you’ll get along
like sea turtles or baby pandas playing
under sheets or
spontaneously in your kitchen
weaving breaths
weaving beats
an effortless ******
then heavy sleep
because you two know what it’s like
to know each other that well
yeah,
you’ll get along  
for months to come
Invisible bunnies fly on the walls
While purple pandas dance in the halls
Where there is no time or space
Pink clouds sail on green seas
And angels fly in and out of me
The heavens above cry out rain
Where lovely flowers are born again
And chaos of colors swam
Where honey flows gently golden and warm
The daylight seeps in to the silent dark
The fabric of time torn apart
Where the sun and moon are complete
A place where there is no cold or heat
The road is long
And equipped with guides
In each masquerade on need for disguise
In a world were nothing is what it seems
The world only exists in my dreams
Mateuš Conrad Sep 2017
the jungian concept of the collective unconscious
is quiet simply bogus... why?
it would mean that no one in the rest of us
would or wouldn't know whether they were
capable of being... plumber!
        i find the jungian version of "events"
as scary as communism,
          it just means: a retardation of
darwinism - it means a loss of consciousness -
you do know, that jung is a covert
communist, right?
                 i find it strange that a collectivist
unconsciousness does not allow me to
engage with whoever i like in the dream world...
why is it, that i can't dream up:
  anyone i like?
    why am i not a magician in the medium,
pulling a black 12 incher from a top-hat
instead of a rabbit?! as usual: no answer.
      a ******* **** in the wind,
      a persian falafel in a turkish kebab,
a piece of broccoli in a cauliflower salad...
an eskimo in a sand dune,
about as weird as a zebra among pandas.
so we're collectively unconscious of
each of us are doing?!
           so the plumber doesn't know
why he's a plumber, nonetheless,
he's content with being human, and being part
of the great extract of the universe,
and the subsequent per se,
           and he's not ******* at anything
akin to the exceptionalism of an einstein?!
wow!
    what, an, exceptional, observation!
scary to endorse the psychiatric collectivism
of jung, and oppose the economic collectivism
of marx...
       in both instance: we're all apparently
going to succeed!
          but one thing is for sure:
we're not sleeping walking into one of them...
oh... right... we are...
    no wonder the circus is dead;
because when i think of a collective
unconscious i start thinking along the lines
of: there is someone, out there,
who's a walt disney,
    who doesn't actually think / imagine
himself as being a plumber...
         and then he does a las vegas on
the stage, and he gambles it right...
      which is why i can't actually understand
jung without understanding communism,
and why anyone would an essential part
of freud, to replace it with jungian
ideology, and not accept some minor form
of communism...
the collective unconscious...
   that's a truly unfathomable compound
of words these days...
     so we're all sleeping, or?
we're all awake?
         in the collective array of stratas i already
"knew" i was to be a plumber,
the poor ****** next to me,
already "knew" he was to be a politician?
oh, right, it was in the unconscious
medium, so we won't actually "know"...
   jung was a ******* communist however
you like it or not...
        and freud was just the instigator
of the *****-industry,
      a monolithic capitalist of the *******
agency of the base construct:
       skyscrapers are not, an, accident;
and i do abide by the law of necessary
correction,
   i probably have made a mistake -
   it, whatever ill i've said,
     nonetheless is wed to the already prefaced
intro to:
           i find the collective unconscious
a dire play on words,
   that shies away from the politico dynamic
of communism...
  by suggesting, that when all said and done:
the plumber has no knowledge of
being a plumber, rather "thinking" himself
                     being a zookeeper!
oh ****... i must be *******...
but i just watched the plumber do the zookeeper's
job, of teaching the gorilla sign language,
"telling" the gorilla: i, think, yer, deaf.
xerez bridglall Feb 2017
The way you watched as I ran ahead in search of elephants,
Is not the reason I feel in love with you,
On that crisp autumn day.
The way we both agreed on how terrifying it would be to zip line over the man made jungle,
Was not the reason I held your hand so tightly.
The reason I feel in love with you was how excited you were to see the red pandas,
" Like they're ready for a wedding"
The reason I held your hand so tightly,
Was because the butterflies in my stomach were threatening to make me fly.
MoMo Nov 2012
Let me tell you of the day that never came.
The one we thought we’d see
So soon after the night.
Night of fire, day of searing light
That burned all the sinners
All of us,
And dragged us all to hell.
Hell.
Always hot and dry
We can’t wait until it freezes over
Freezes all of them.
All of us.
No more stench of charred flesh
No more black and crumbling bodies
With dry water eyes.
But the day never came
When we’d beg for water-
Ice.
Something other than
The lava forced down our throats on a daily basis.
We are tired of this!
No more, never ever, ever never forever will we
Finish burning
In Hell.
But we never did now did we?
The day never came, and
We
Are forever living.
Maybe more a torture than fire and brimstone.
But the day won’t come when it will all end
Or has it come already and this is our eternal punishment
For being sinners,
Sacrilegious in the way we moved.
And in hell we trudge up hills of spike rock
Carrying boulders the size of pandas with the attitudes of great whites
And all the stripes and teeth of rabid tigers,
Jagged claws of koalas and the ability to scent fear like no other animal can
And they are always afraid
All of us
That maybe one day
the day will come
and we will burn.
martin May 2015
Dance with dragons to your hearts delight

Let lanterns shine and fireworks pop all through your darkest night

But if you care for your precious pandas plight

Don't buy tiger bones, rhino horn, ivory

Dead elephants are not a pretty sight
M Sep 2019
P
Penguins painted pink,
peacefully practising pragmatic pebble placement.
Perfectly pointy piles, please!

Profoundly pious Pandas ponder pancreatic problems,
predict potential palsy.
Prognosis? Perilously poor.

Pale porpoises proudly plunge purple pools,
placidly pasturing petrified plankton.
Poor protozoans perish.

Portly, paunchy, plumpish, porcine, porky pigs
populate putrid puddles,
Pulverizing pumpkin pies.

Purposely Prickly porcupines pursue palatable plants,
pin-pointing precisely.
Puce petunias preferred.

Pill popping puppet people perpetuate planetary perdition,
pardon profuse pollution.
Pretentious ******.
Hao Nguyen Apr 2016
In a random experiment,
I ask all to each bury a journal
about worshiping pandas,
thinking that in 200-or-so years,
when apocalypses come and go,
it will be taken from the time capsule.
And as they read the verses
I will hope for laughter
but fear them to believe it true.
Overwhelmed May 2010
It’s been awhile since I looked around here,
at the hats, at the socks,
at the tv, at the books,
at the chair and the bed,
the pandas and the globe,
the mirror in the bathroom,
and the boxes in the closet.

there’s something odd about
all this ordinary stuff, even if
at one time it didn’t feel
ordinary

like this computer I type on now,
at one point it was a foreigner
to both this space and my
fingers

and yet there are hidden things too,
even they feel ordinary,
now.

maybe you have something you hide?

like:

the letters from lovers, the
diaries in drawers, the drugs
you keep secret, or the obsessions
you wish to hide

I have stuff to hide
(though none of it’s
on that list)

no,
what I hide is much
closer,
much more
dangerous
but harder to find than
anything in here

everything about my life
is strewn about this room
and I look at it all with
fresh eyes

I count it all up and think
perhaps this is my whole
life

except for a few things;
those I keep locked up
in my mind

those things

like:

what I really think, how
I really feel, why I really
write this poem, and where
the key to my heart and mind
really lies
Nis Jun 2018
Two seven three,
Molecules set free.
Heat coming,
Sun shining,
More than it ever has before.
And it shall shine more,
And it shall get worse,
And the rise of Poseidon shall **** many.

SO3,
Oxigen roaming free.
Your sunflower rots,
The world keeps spinning,
But the caps get thinner.
And the shall thin more,
And it shall get worse,
And the rise of Poseidon shall **** many.

Take out your lenses,
**** the ant,
**** the man,
**** the snow,
**** the world.
And you shall **** more,
And it shall get worse,
And the rise of Poseidon shall **** many.

Arange your umbrella,
Cover the sun.
Grow tropical plants
Wherever you want,
**** indiginous plants
Whenever you can.
Save the pandas
Not the bees,
Whatever you say.
All shall rearange into place
All shall die or live more
And the rise of Poseidon shall **** many.
Mateuš Conrad Jan 2016
i didn't say my life was interesting, i said my life was boring enough to write about it, all the p.s. cf. bibliographical parts of what a life could look like, had there been a genuine interest in it prior to the ongoing thesis that will leave someone entitled with a dr. rather than a mr. or a mrs.*

the scaffolding was up,
i took to climbing it,
to the top of old college edinburgh,
climbed it and had my wish:
danced to the shins' new slang (https://goo.gl/OCYArw),
other time it was on prince's street,
walking back from a nightclub,
climbed the scaffold stilettos
and in anger, screaming at the moon
started throwing bits of a chimney onto
the street
without a care if homicide was on the cards:
i went out with a girl got engaged with her
who was afraid of graveyards...
odd to bury them, the ones already passed
to this element, maybe that's why it's
so precious to get involved,
fire **** and you get a billion blue indians
(very effective), use earth and you just
get an exponential rise of monuments
and libraries of serious volume awaiting
transportation to the moon for safe-keeping;
socially acceptable necrophilia to be blunt and still shave.
the idiot in me should have went for the girl
that asked me to dance the ceilidh with her,
who fell asleep watching a roman holiday
with greg peck and that tiffany's girl:
it would have been a wedding cake
cherry on top story, typical middle class
of immigrant descendants, cocktail of
iranian mongrel with scot and german mongrel
with pole...twilight... ever notice the sun
asking the land where cain resides, nox,
to usher in one innocent compatriot for
a brief viewing of the constellation of taurus?
neither did i... i sing for release and as such
i find myself in hex / allegiance with with mortiis,
that norwegian "freak" of pointy ears and deep shadow
of pandas' mascara...
but between you and me, there's a hobbit and
a nazgûl in me... the drunk me sees it...
although hobbit me likes the simple life...
the nazgûl doesn't... he stirs in the night,
remembering endless chemistry, laboratory coats
and imprints of the experiments to not be...
but i still danced on the roof of the old college
of the university of edinburgh to the shins' new slang,
with a jazz club below me where i first
heard neil young's old man played to a dairy cow
milked precision of matters... alone... like all those
edward hopper nighthawks: in a david bowie
space oddity of contentment: ageing to make
the face skin an akin fingerprinting of wrinkle;
like solomon, i have cursed the hour of my birth
a long long time ago.

— The End —