"wallaby" poems - Hello Poetry

You are too old for your looks, dear gentleman Dear gentleman, you are much too spry You jump like a wallaby, dear gentleman And you run much faster than I When I am snoozing, dear gentleman You wake me up, Because you’re hungry for food Dear gentleman, I was sleeping I find this, at times, very rude Dear gentleman, you don’t go outdoors very much You always stay inside Watching the birds taunting you This really must hurt your pride When I leave the house, dear gentleman You stay standing guard Dear gentleman, I must praise you For this job must be very hard Dear gentleman, you don’t speak English You speak some foreign tongue I cannot understand you, dear gentleman I can’t decode the songs you’ve sung Dear gentleman, I must thank you For you a such a good friend You and I, dear gentleman What a pleasant blend!

0

Jan 26, 2017

Jan 26, 2017 at 6:04 PM UTC

adrianna-aarons

Dear Gentleman

You are too old for your looks, dear gentleman Dear gentleman, you are much too spry You jump like a wallaby, dear gentleman And you run much faster than I When I am snoozing, dear gentleman You wake me up, Because you’re hungry for food Dear gentleman, I was sleeping I find this, at times, very rude Dear gentleman, you don’t go outdoors very much You always stay inside Watching the birds taunting you This really must hurt your pride When I leave the house, dear gentleman You stay standing guard Dear gentleman, I must praise you For this job must be very hard Dear gentleman, you don’t speak English You speak some foreign tongue I cannot understand you, dear gentleman I can’t decode the songs you’ve sung Dear gentleman, I must thank you For you a such a good friend You and I, dear gentleman What a pleasant blend!

25

All day panda girl reclines Exercise she declines Horsey girl will bring you luck ( U ) Her legs are strong and she drives a truck Bonobo girl is worth consideration Taking account of her reputation Cat girl charms you with her eyes She chings her claws and claims her prize Crocodile girl will make you happy Until she gets a bit too snappy Dormouse girl may give a peep Together you'll have a lovely sleep Turtle girl will be just swell If you coax her from her shell Wallaby girl needs some space To hop about from place to place Tarantula girl gives you pangs When she shows her fearsome fangs Cougar woman's after me Completing my fantasy Menagerie

0

Jan 18, 2012

Jan 18, 2012 at 1:33 PM UTC

martin

Girls just fun

All day panda girl reclines Exercise she declines Horsey girl will bring you luck ( U ) Her legs are strong and she drives a truck Bonobo girl is worth consideration Taking account of her reputation Cat girl charms you with her eyes She chings her claws and claims her prize Crocodile girl will make you happy Until she gets a bit too snappy Dormouse girl may give a peep Together you'll have a lovely sleep Turtle girl will be just swell If you coax her from her shell Wallaby girl needs some space To hop about from place to place Tarantula girl gives you pangs When she shows her fearsome fangs Cougar woman's after me Completing my fantasy Menagerie

21

Thylacinus Cynocephalus. Tasmanian Tiger, Tasmanian Wolf, A crepuscular hunting nocturnal beast, Carnivore by nature, feasted upon wallaby,wombats and roos, Caught by female of the species, Was he a feline or a lupine beast, hyena perhaps, No, this strange creature now probably extinct was marsupial with pouch, Female with pouch to grow her young, male had pouch of his own, Protected his crown jewels within a scrotal pouch, Appearance of a stripy dog, Looked rather like a tiger, Had amber eyes filled with fire, This diamorphic beast, (Means the chap was larger) Had four toes on hind feet and rigid tail of kangaroo, It's gait was rather odd, Could move like kangaroo, if it so desired, Strange call, a guttural sound, alerted his family when he was abound, Shy secretive little creature, Kept himself locked out of sight, For in the late 188os, early 1900s these creatures had a bounty on their heads, The bounty hunters had such fun, left our world with nearly none, Last beast in the wild as noted,shot by gun by Mr Batty, 1936 the last captive creature died in Hobart Zoo, Reported name was Benjamin, Book called The Djin-jum Man, said man, Batty man maybe, was cursed for killing the last of their kin, Poor things, Living legacy remains, On Tasmania's coat of arms, two of these fine beasts support the islands emblem, Probably gone but never overlooked, Still being sought but never found! By ladylivvi1 © 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved) This was really difficult, hope its quite accurate!

0

Jul 25, 2013

Jul 25, 2013 at 4:33 PM UTC

olivia-kent

Thylacine!

Thylacinus Cynocephalus. Tasmanian Tiger, Tasmanian Wolf, A crepuscular hunting nocturnal beast, Carnivore by nature, feasted upon wallaby,wombats and roos, Caught by female of the species, Was he a feline or a lupine beast, hyena perhaps, No, this strange creature now probably extinct was marsupial with pouch, Female with pouch to grow her young, male had pouch of his own, Protected his crown jewels within a scrotal pouch, Appearance of a stripy dog, Looked rather like a tiger, Had amber eyes filled with fire, This diamorphic beast, (Means the chap was larger) Had four toes on hind feet and rigid tail of kangaroo, It's gait was rather odd, Could move like kangaroo, if it so desired, Strange call, a guttural sound, alerted his family when he was abound, Shy secretive little creature, Kept himself locked out of sight, For in the late 188os, early 1900s these creatures had a bounty on their heads, The bounty hunters had such fun, left our world with nearly none, Last beast in the wild as noted,shot by gun by Mr Batty, 1936 the last captive creature died in Hobart Zoo, Reported name was Benjamin, Book called The Djin-jum Man, said man, Batty man maybe, was cursed for killing the last of their kin, Poor things, Living legacy remains, On Tasmania's coat of arms, two of these fine beasts support the islands emblem, Probably gone but never overlooked, Still being sought but never found! By ladylivvi1 © 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved) This was really difficult, hope its quite accurate!

33

in our time we think we know most animals of the world from films and videos yet seeing an echidna come out of the underbrush about to cross the road but then looking at all the cameras deciding to quietly go back home for a while watching a young humpback whale launch her tons out of the sea in the sheer joy of breaching falling back in a white splash that sends your boat rocking feeling the hard back of a wombat under its thick coat of hair the soft fur of a koala the cool skin of a blue-tongued lizard feeding a wallaby whose sharp claws tenderly hold your hand so that the food does not go away too soon hearing the swelling maniacal laughter of a flock of kookaburras a pied butcherbird‘s unbelievably melodious call you become aware they are living beings not just images on the screen and the little hairs on the back of your neck rise in shock and awe of life‘s beauty

0

Nov 8, 2017

Nov 8, 2017 at 2:01 AM UTC

wwhoelbling

knowledge&experience

in our time we think we know most animals of the world from films and videos yet seeing an echidna come out of the underbrush about to cross the road but then looking at all the cameras deciding to quietly go back home for a while watching a young humpback whale launch her tons out of the sea in the sheer joy of breaching falling back in a white splash that sends your boat rocking feeling the hard back of a wombat under its thick coat of hair the soft fur of a koala the cool skin of a blue-tongued lizard feeding a wallaby whose sharp claws tenderly hold your hand so that the food does not go away too soon hearing the swelling maniacal laughter of a flock of kookaburras a pied butcherbird‘s unbelievably melodious call you become aware they are living beings not just images on the screen and the little hairs on the back of your neck rise in shock and awe of life‘s beauty

40

Twenty-one years of what exactly was I taught? I believed you two to be super heroes, or so I thought. Turned seventeen realized life's nothing but a thought. I'm thinking I'm alive, but really I'm not. I saw past materialism, chose to sin. Now I hope I can be forgiven, look into the mirror I'm afraid of my reflection. I'm not who I was. I'm not where I am. I don't know who I am. I can't find where to stand. Miss the days when blankets were stronger than Fort Knox, and money had one meaning: to buy train stations, and the chances we took were cards in a box and we didn't use our cars to hotbox but we matched a lot. While momma was tryin' to teach me don't monopolize the TV that's just greedy. Noweverydaygoesbyspeedy and I don't have an effort to make myself peace treaties stuck in my self pity, wallowing like a wallaby with abstract gynecology Twitter-less no one follows me I hate my top eight. I've ruined the recipe but I still eat this teaming plate so I'm just left with a bitter taste.

0

Mar 9, 2016

Mar 9, 2016 at 12:22 AM UTC

tyleracasey

I Cut My Showers Short

Twenty-one years of what exactly was I taught? I believed you two to be super heroes, or so I thought. Turned seventeen realized life's nothing but a thought. I'm thinking I'm alive, but really I'm not. I saw past materialism, chose to sin. Now I hope I can be forgiven, look into the mirror I'm afraid of my reflection. I'm not who I was. I'm not where I am. I don't know who I am. I can't find where to stand. Miss the days when blankets were stronger than Fort Knox, and money had one meaning: to buy train stations, and the chances we took were cards in a box and we didn't use our cars to hotbox but we matched a lot. While momma was tryin' to teach me don't monopolize the TV that's just greedy. Noweverydaygoesbyspeedy and I don't have an effort to make myself peace treaties stuck in my self pity, wallowing like a wallaby with abstract gynecology Twitter-less no one follows me I hate my top eight. I've ruined the recipe but I still eat this teaming plate so I'm just left with a bitter taste.

10

Have you seen the wombat? He's chewing on the grass We wanders around the camp posts Using them to scratch his **** Have you seen the wallaby? They're right outside the door Don't mind to have an audience Whilst they graze upon the floor Have you seen the padimelon? She's outside amongst the bush With her baby in her pouch You can watch them if you shush Have you seen the possum And heard them heard them have their fight? There're out there causing trouble They'll be playing by the night Have you seen the humans? All wrapped up nice and dry They think they live in nature But to nature this is a lie!

0

Sep 14, 2016

Sep 14, 2016 at 12:40 PM UTC

macstoire

Have you seen them?

Have you seen the wombat? He's chewing on the grass We wanders around the camp posts Using them to scratch his **** Have you seen the wallaby? They're right outside the door Don't mind to have an audience Whilst they graze upon the floor Have you seen the padimelon? She's outside amongst the bush With her baby in her pouch You can watch them if you shush Have you seen the possum And heard them heard them have their fight? There're out there causing trouble They'll be playing by the night Have you seen the humans? All wrapped up nice and dry They think they live in nature But to nature this is a lie!

20

to a pining pine tree a wallowing wallaby a spendid spleen ******** on you *********

0

Nov 17, 2014

Nov 17, 2014 at 7:31 PM UTC

annacart

may I compare thee

to a pining pine tree a wallowing wallaby a spendid spleen ******** on you *********

5

At night the boys go hunting buses, Tight-lipped eyes Loaded with anger, Gun-barrel arms Tattoed at the shoulder And quarry-stone cocked in their hands. The finger-high boys Of corner-store cool, Snarling boys, Drinking the dark and unloved spaces, The public places, Where they have ****** both grog and girl. They've flogged the stolen cars for fun In third gear up Spit Hill And disappeared in the Wallaby Grass As the sirens wail And the cars burn. Footpath foul round cul-de-sacs These branded boys Have made their name, And window panes Have felt their bitter Forceful curse. And tonight the boys are hunting buses, In tobacco-black suburban hollows They're taking aim And will sleep Smiling Once the **** is made.

0

Mar 20, 2016

Mar 20, 2016 at 12:26 PM UTC

bill-higham

Hunting Buses

At night the boys go hunting buses, Tight-lipped eyes Loaded with anger, Gun-barrel arms Tattoed at the shoulder And quarry-stone cocked in their hands. The finger-high boys Of corner-store cool, Snarling boys, Drinking the dark and unloved spaces, The public places, Where they have ****** both grog and girl. They've flogged the stolen cars for fun In third gear up Spit Hill And disappeared in the Wallaby Grass As the sirens wail And the cars burn. Footpath foul round cul-de-sacs These branded boys Have made their name, And window panes Have felt their bitter Forceful curse. And tonight the boys are hunting buses, In tobacco-black suburban hollows They're taking aim And will sleep Smiling Once the **** is made.

29

The bold and the good all under the sun. All singing as one, in Wallaby Woods. The moonlight above, the mist and the rain. Some singing for love, some singing for pain. Searching for stars, forgotten to time.. The moonlight above The rhythm and rhyme. The bold and the good, waiting for the sun. All singing as one, in Wallaby Woods.

0

Dec 23, 2014

Dec 23, 2014 at 7:39 PM UTC

peter-cullen

Wallaby Woods

The bold and the good all under the sun. All singing as one, in Wallaby Woods. The moonlight above, the mist and the rain. Some singing for love, some singing for pain. Searching for stars, forgotten to time.. The moonlight above The rhythm and rhyme. The bold and the good, waiting for the sun. All singing as one, in Wallaby Woods.

16

Quiet slip the crazy ones that are safely disappearing down to the place that I love that they're expressing yet no-body's reality doesn't seem to be some part in boxes, the one whose hair color changed the weather and had duct tape all over no one looks of the one girl in elementary school that existed the crap out of me, then smashed quietly creefree. I think she had a crush on me. House was the ultimate rebel sexpot. She to carry on sooty, cynical. But then in the quiet ploring me one day and we haven't spoken since. Found a slice or normality in this. Conversations, but of frivolous nothing became of it & I was the talk that encountered this girl who earthly posses fanatic liked telling everyone she had her past life as a wallaby. How rude, the girl from the newspaper. She never hid secrets, always a woman yet she was a year I should show while we've seen each other rarely that was. But I don't other by phone and email. She ran away. Her last story was to be published. I pass by the to carry on

0

Jan 24, 2015

Jan 24, 2015 at 12:01 PM UTC

brycical

Untitled Experimental Poetry

Quiet slip the crazy ones that are safely disappearing down to the place that I love that they're expressing yet no-body's reality doesn't seem to be some part in boxes, the one whose hair color changed the weather and had duct tape all over no one looks of the one girl in elementary school that existed the crap out of me, then smashed quietly creefree. I think she had a crush on me. House was the ultimate rebel sexpot. She to carry on sooty, cynical. But then in the quiet ploring me one day and we haven't spoken since. Found a slice or normality in this. Conversations, but of frivolous nothing became of it & I was the talk that encountered this girl who earthly posses fanatic liked telling everyone she had her past life as a wallaby. How rude, the girl from the newspaper. She never hid secrets, always a woman yet she was a year I should show while we've seen each other rarely that was. But I don't other by phone and email. She ran away. Her last story was to be published. I pass by the to carry on

31

Underneath the Australian sun, we have begun to gather wallaby grass for the night's fire. It hasn't signaled anybody, but scorching flames keep the wild dogs at bay. Losing count, four nights, I think, have now passed. Mother and father must be ill from worry; we've never been far this far out before. Amidst play of seek and hide, Frank went in search for the perfect spot -- a fairly good one as it took two hours to find him-- but night arose, and father's compass had been left upon the porch's rail. A few days later, we managed to find a small amount of water, but it won't last with three of us; and I can already see the exhausted expressions carved upon my brothers' faces. Though Isaac continues to search, I believe even he shall soon relinquish the hope that rescuers will arrive. It's been a week. At what point will the police discontinue our search? When a month has passed? With no food and the last drops having evaporated onto our parched tongues before the sun was set, how could we survive that long? But the question wandering deep within my mind is, “Does anyone even believe we are alive?” Perhaps it is not worry our parents are now suffering, but grief. Though I cannot tell the boys of my suspicions, nor can let them see my fatigue

0

Feb 22, 2014

Feb 22, 2014 at 3:31 PM UTC

brittneybrannum

Wandering in Wimmera

Underneath the Australian sun, we have begun to gather wallaby grass for the night's fire. It hasn't signaled anybody, but scorching flames keep the wild dogs at bay. Losing count, four nights, I think, have now passed. Mother and father must be ill from worry; we've never been far this far out before. Amidst play of seek and hide, Frank went in search for the perfect spot -- a fairly good one as it took two hours to find him-- but night arose, and father's compass had been left upon the porch's rail. A few days later, we managed to find a small amount of water, but it won't last with three of us; and I can already see the exhausted expressions carved upon my brothers' faces. Though Isaac continues to search, I believe even he shall soon relinquish the hope that rescuers will arrive. It's been a week. At what point will the police discontinue our search? When a month has passed? With no food and the last drops having evaporated onto our parched tongues before the sun was set, how could we survive that long? But the question wandering deep within my mind is, “Does anyone even believe we are alive?” Perhaps it is not worry our parents are now suffering, but grief. Though I cannot tell the boys of my suspicions, nor can let them see my fatigue

38

I wanna be a wallaby The wallabies are the best They beat the mighty all blacks By 47 to 26 What a win by the wallabies I can hardly believe my eyes What a win I hope they can keep it up Oh yeah and yes they gave the All blacks a surprise Perth was the place To catch the great challenge they embrace Wattcha wanna be A walla wallaby A great win a great win Oh yeah bow bow Carn the mighty wallabies We are the best Because we beat the best But who cares because those Mighty wallabies say to me Wattcha wanna be A walla wallaby Football meat pies yes those Wallabies beat the odds And gave the Perth crowd A great win for them Carn the wallabies Carn the wallabies The all blacks are the team to beat And we go one-up oh yeah mate yeah I wanna be a wallaby Watcha wanna be A walla wallaby 47 to 26, I can hardly believe my eyes Yes Australia gave us a surprise Go the wallabies kick some **** Go the wallabies show some class And they did all blacks had their chances And Australia never gave up Cold tinnie crack one right now Cold tinnie crack it open mate Crack one for the mighty wallabies mate Cold tinnie crack one right now Green and gold green and gold The best team around Green and gold green and gold Too good oh yeah Black is a dark colour We need to put the bright colours first Green and gold, cold tinnie cold tinnie Crack one for the wallabies mate I am an Aussie and I love life And I love when the wallabies win Especially against the mighty all blacks Well done wallabies 47 to 26 I can hardly believe it Wattcha wanna be A walla wallaby What a win highest ever score Against New Zealand Yes dudes what a win

0

Aug 10, 2019

Aug 10, 2019 at 8:16 AM UTC

johnny-georgy-brown

wallabies to win, a great win over the all blacks (record score) and all

I wanna be a wallaby The wallabies are the best They beat the mighty all blacks By 47 to 26 What a win by the wallabies I can hardly believe my eyes What a win I hope they can keep it up Oh yeah and yes they gave the All blacks a surprise Perth was the place To catch the great challenge they embrace Wattcha wanna be A walla wallaby A great win a great win Oh yeah bow bow Carn the mighty wallabies We are the best Because we beat the best But who cares because those Mighty wallabies say to me Wattcha wanna be A walla wallaby Football meat pies yes those Wallabies beat the odds And gave the Perth crowd A great win for them Carn the wallabies Carn the wallabies The all blacks are the team to beat And we go one-up oh yeah mate yeah I wanna be a wallaby Watcha wanna be A walla wallaby 47 to 26, I can hardly believe my eyes Yes Australia gave us a surprise Go the wallabies kick some **** Go the wallabies show some class And they did all blacks had their chances And Australia never gave up Cold tinnie crack one right now Cold tinnie crack it open mate Crack one for the mighty wallabies mate Cold tinnie crack one right now Green and gold green and gold The best team around Green and gold green and gold Too good oh yeah Black is a dark colour We need to put the bright colours first Green and gold, cold tinnie cold tinnie Crack one for the wallabies mate I am an Aussie and I love life And I love when the wallabies win Especially against the mighty all blacks Well done wallabies 47 to 26 I can hardly believe it Wattcha wanna be A walla wallaby What a win highest ever score Against New Zealand Yes dudes what a win

61

*** yir ******* skids outta m'ah 'uckin feece! god i love that place, glasgow is like birmingham of the north... a rotten scow to nowhere, unless it be a place that spoke: deep-fried mars bar for breakfast - you scurvy worth of the tangled sailor! **** gods took to the twallop, and i takes me to the rool ups! got a bargain with a shrimp you belfast ***** my **** you 'av! next time they sing: sweet dover, i'll have you marrying the ***** cult of: shard! ye storm ah heed! **** me an' timber twice: V fooking eye of ye, hire-crane! ******** twice, three times removed the drunk... huh?! it's all plus minus with me by now... ha ha! had a cousin, didn't say why, cursed & numbed the cuss words like a nun ought to know why... so i says me: lingua the leash - earn the ir - softspot for the tucker-jacks and the irish lepers: shauns they called them... he he... look at me: all smug and waiting for brussel sprouts out the paan tree... what's with these wallaby terms? panchree? panna quinoa, panna cotta? ******* as clingy as those pepsoowongs, or wangs or pepsoos. as the english queers say F F Θ, but then pull out a churchill - and vey v girman vey such & such... they and way become indistinguishable - churchie and the welsh abbey become one and the same with either V as "peace", or the V and the welsh longbowmen **** you... v'eh point... wayward: too soon... vuck! wook? wookie? va va voom! woonder-brum, brimming, bra bra bra... ha ha ha... dried it all off with the giggles... then it became apparent: the man settled for the dozen, whether it was a dozen of ostriches, hyenas, bunches of lychee, leaks, bulgarian strippers - or worse... a dozen of english rhetoricians, notably gay; **** what a gamble.

0

Sep 21, 2017

Sep 21, 2017 at 10:38 PM UTC

removed.polaroid-scrabble

glaswegian dublíneesh

*** yir ******* skids outta m'ah 'uckin feece! god i love that place, glasgow is like birmingham of the north... a rotten scow to nowhere, unless it be a place that spoke: deep-fried mars bar for breakfast - you scurvy worth of the tangled sailor! **** gods took to the twallop, and i takes me to the rool ups! got a bargain with a shrimp you belfast ***** my **** you 'av! next time they sing: sweet dover, i'll have you marrying the ***** cult of: shard! ye storm ah heed! **** me an' timber twice: V fooking eye of ye, hire-crane! ******** twice, three times removed the drunk... huh?! it's all plus minus with me by now... ha ha! had a cousin, didn't say why, cursed & numbed the cuss words like a nun ought to know why... so i says me: lingua the leash - earn the ir - softspot for the tucker-jacks and the irish lepers: shauns they called them... he he... look at me: all smug and waiting for brussel sprouts out the paan tree... what's with these wallaby terms? panchree? panna quinoa, panna cotta? ******* as clingy as those pepsoowongs, or wangs or pepsoos. as the english queers say F F Θ, but then pull out a churchill - and vey v girman vey such & such... they and way become indistinguishable - churchie and the welsh abbey become one and the same with either V as "peace", or the V and the welsh longbowmen **** you... v'eh point... wayward: too soon... vuck! wook? wookie? va va voom! woonder-brum, brimming, bra bra bra... ha ha ha... dried it all off with the giggles... then it became apparent: the man settled for the dozen, whether it was a dozen of ostriches, hyenas, bunches of lychee, leaks, bulgarian strippers - or worse... a dozen of english rhetoricians, notably gay; **** what a gamble.

72

I was a lost boy toy soldier from her life. lying still after the final conflict, bleeding regret, ready to let the earth soak me down. a fool's look painted on my face, crimson cheeks wallaby eyes. a heartless shell of circumstance. barely taking last breaths between love's nowhere shadows. . glory lost. bound only to where bad lovers go to die. to where lover's skeletons have been picked clean to the bone. and lies and deceit have rotten their eyes. without glory or any chance of redemption. and I wonder now.. do you even remember my name.

0

Sep 18, 2018

Sep 18, 2018 at 5:26 PM UTC

napolis

Where bad lovers go to die/ the nowhere poems

I was a lost boy toy soldier from her life. lying still after the final conflict, bleeding regret, ready to let the earth soak me down. a fool's look painted on my face, crimson cheeks wallaby eyes. a heartless shell of circumstance. barely taking last breaths between love's nowhere shadows. . glory lost. bound only to where bad lovers go to die. to where lover's skeletons have been picked clean to the bone. and lies and deceit have rotten their eyes. without glory or any chance of redemption. and I wonder now.. do you even remember my name.

51