"warrens" poems
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
Aug 21, 2013
Aug 21, 2013 at 10:54 PM UTC
please-please add your waxy scrolls
truths to the panic pyre
madden an inflamed swarm of intelligence
worm warrens into the collective of our brain
maybe
having been riddled
it'll collapse under the corrective strain
and start blinking a genuine signal
process recognized compassionate inkling
Aug 8, 2022
Aug 8, 2022 at 9:12 PM UTC
I was given, at my first birthday party,
a gift sublime, a lovely, lush garden
I played among its fonts and flowers,
traded baseball cards with Atlas and Athena,
rolled in high grass with iridescent dragons
Then one fine day through leaflets high,
I spied a fat juicy fig, haloed by Summer sun
The tree was poison, I knew, its sweet fruit
most likely bad as well, but in my arrogance
I climbed the trunk, got tangled in its branches
I lost control, lost something never truly held,
and fell, through viney snarls and vicious thorns
Fell farther than I ever rose, to putrid death,
moldered slime beneath the canopy
of verdant paradise on gentle hillside above
I crawled about in mud and earthen warrens
Slowly, year by year, learned to walk again
But arrogant I remained—had not my
lesson learned, and so I doubled-down,
made mockery of this chance for redemption
All the sweet virgins did I **** and teach
our children sin, in crystalline waters
I did shat on mulched fields, amber and green,
with cigarette butts and baggies blowing
listless on Autumn winds
When Winter finally came, as winters must,
to **** off weakened souls, and make
the garden ready for new attendants,
I did not learn, I did not take the blame...
It's Him, I cried, I have not power to do this!
But then my youngest daughter sobbed
She watched, sadly, out clouded, grimy windows
and, looking up at my limpid, sullen eyes
crawled into my arms one last, lonely time
to face what I could not...
Behold, the Silent Spring
Aug 19, 2014
Aug 19, 2014 at 11:16 AM UTC
Bobbing to a swaying gait,
Torch light bounces at the edge of the world.
Laughter and larks hushed like the shushing waves,
As we crumple daisies and kick the tops off mole hills.
Home is only a field away,
But in the adjusting night, sleeping undercover never seemed so
surplus to requirement.
Clear skies, rum-bellies,
A watery film between the heavens and earth make freckle impressions on the sky,
Blemishes on perfect tone but it's all the more beautiful for it.
Deep indigo, emerald green, pillar box red then bed.
Zips bid the outside world goodnight.
Goodnight to hedgerows and gorse and guide ropes.
Goodnight rabbit warrens and linnet nests and bog asphodel.
Goodnight puffins and the minky whales and the surf.
Goodnight salty hair, goodnight cold noses, goodnight.
Oct 23, 2019
Oct 23, 2019 at 10:51 AM UTC
Why do we need to redeem ourselves?
To know one and to cherish one
To live thy life that we solely covet
No turning back, only now
Moles are blind and see no light
But they find their way
Carving mud and dust to get
To one’s itinerary
Paving their ways through filth
But they find their way
With warrens, dug in and dugout
And trusting their grit and snout
Working their way through lands
But they find their way
Through hard work with their two bare hands
Burrowing and Burrowing
Heroes and heroine
Harrowing and harrowing, but not like blind moles
Worry, why? Aren’t you much precious than them, darling?
With gift of sight, to see one’s light
Oct 24, 2017
Oct 24, 2017 at 1:44 PM UTC
Once upon a time
In a land not so far away
Wait, Sorry that was right here
Last summer this very day
I bought three bunnies
black white and grey.
before bringing them in
I worked all things out
built three wooden warrens
poured milk in separate bowls
As I put them down
like a precious prize
what they did then and there
took me by surprise.
All three baby rabbits
latched onto the same cup
like allies in a fight pit
they went slurp slurp slurp
But I tried to let that slide
maybe they were hungry and dazed
Later that night I put them to bed
in their wooden boxes side by side
Waking up the next day
what I saw blew me away
cuddling together in one box
there they were cozy and gay
Do they fail to see
the difference in their color
like we the "righteous" humans do!
Don't they feel superior to one another
like we with our clever conscience do!
Are we the savages or are they?
Is humanity just a cliche?
From cavemen to civil beings
are we too evolved to see
Death doesn't discriminate
So why should we?
Jun 21, 2018
Jun 21, 2018 at 9:25 AM UTC
Summers heat has left the land as Autumn walks this land
This new daughter has all the trees leaves falling like the rains
The beaches sands are turning from hot white to a duller yellow
Cliff sides show warm Browns and burnished golds across their tops
And Summer and Autumn will touch fingers for mere moments
And then they will be separated in time for another year
Animals all through this cooling land hurry about their chores
For Autumn trails her very fingers through their fur
they know it’s time to be ready for the arrival of her chillier sister Winter
But for now there are still nuts and berries to be hurriedly gathered in
The wind rises a notch as Autumn surveys her quarter realm
And Sunset deepens over land and sea as nights draw quickly in
The daytime skies turn grey as buzzards seek their prey
Squirrels hide their hordes of nuts and then seek their dreys
Hedgehogs rolled in darkened leaves ready then to make their nests
Mice and voles scurry forth one eye on the skies for predator on high
The rabbits make warmer warrens, while foxes watches with evil eye
It’ll not be long before Winter with her chilly hand is all across the realm
But for now Autumn casts a comfort of gold and brown across this land.
Oct 10, 2016
Oct 10, 2016 at 3:50 AM UTC
The raccoons on this Kentucky farm formed a quagmire. They're wild thieves embedded in the ecosystem. Irreplaceable valuables are erased in the cover of night. The farmer offers to negotiate with the masked vermin. A raccoon response results in scramble trash, they say they've got a birthright from the past. Wits end is where dog ownership begins after the adoption of a rabid dog that only sees death. Regret rocks raccoons wrestling with Cerberus but there's no turning back, Cujo is chained in their yard. Hellhound terror leaves spellbound hares abandoning their warrens until only reddened raccoons remain with their canine warden.
Lamenting the loss of liberty, a revolutionary raccoon resolves to romp around. The dog of damnation's laser locked bloodlust focuses on the rodent-like rebel. Charging like a rocket out of its launcher, the driven dog is lured from its isolated den. This game of cat and mouse has magnanimous stakes reaching across the farmer's lake.
The rebellious raccoon runs rapidly from the rabid ravenous Rover. The runner dips and dives through cover to avoid the teeth of the other. A snapping jaw matches the movements of the juking and cutting critter. Inside of a hollow tree becomes the raccoon's destination, he enters and ascends, the snarling snapper chasing in after him.
Death's embrace seems certain for the raccoon as the hound's teeth shave the edge of its fur, but at that point the fatter can go no further. The hound's blinding bloodlust vanishes upon realizing it's stuck. Its unwavering rage turns into panicked fear once it realizes its end is near. The raccoon revels in the dog's misery, enjoying watching it slowly starving.
The raccoons revelry is rebuked once the dog just starts staring at it. They both stare at each other, unblinking, waiting for the other to die. Neither of them willing to move an inch for fear of accidentally helping the other. Both willing to die to ensure their opponent's death. The hollow facade that saved the raccoon now becomes its tomb. Defeat and death act as a sedating punishment for the dog's aggression. Fierce foes drink the poison of resentment as they both accept their demise while staring into each other's eyes.
Sep 3, 2020
Sep 3, 2020 at 9:01 AM UTC
the engines of night labor in the distance
flush with the sound of enduring all that might come
flush with sounds of all those who thrive in its endless warrens
the creeping shadow
waitings baited breath just at lights edge
for a quick peek at another way of life
but must retreat along its own mindless dream ways
a victim of its fantasy of ever better tomorrow's
the engines of night labor on
producing a fine silt that stains the river of time
with its dark mutterings
and cast off malformed beasts
they writhe in pain at the touch of light
that speak in dead languages of mystery's
that souls never harbored
bring out the small boat
we venture out onto the still waters
mindful of the noise we incur
that threatens to expose us
to all prying eyes
we put out our line
and fish for the treasure
but never having been here before
we failed to think that nothing will be gained
we failed to believe we could ever succeed
i must soon leave this room
this place of years
and venture onto the sandy soil
onto the thick air that strangles
and hope there is something to be gained
from such utter folly
May 9, 2013
May 9, 2013 at 4:29 AM UTC
i am a light sleeper
who wakes before my alarm
but i have my own personal Witching Hour
a gape
when I am utterly unguarded
and vulnerable to serpent enemies
it's then that they broach and whisper me suggestion
it's then that i whimper like an abused and receptive whelp
then that i devolve into a manipulatable child of therapy
it's then that weights are stacked upon my chest
and my breaths become short pinned and pained
even with my wife and child to my side
they patiently poison me with measured pipette drops
run them down a string like spittle
bitter mushroom down the back of my throat
and dreams warp toxic like cellophane near a fire
and what visions !
warrens of vivid insecurities as loved ones
strip their gloves and get to work ripping out the pegs
with twisted mocks tocking noggins
and flails of humiliation oiling apart
the mechanism of my meaning
they look at their watches time is up
they leave with their instruments
make idle chit-chat on their way out
lock the front door with the spare key
and place the key back under the mat
May 28, 2025
May 28, 2025 at 9:16 AM UTC
Surrounded by false idols, the emptiness stares
all I ever wanted was for someone to care -
dead as the beat thrumming in my heart
a pain dislocated from the world
restless
apart
get your hand off mine
you ain't 18 anymore
there's no point in life
if nothing's sore
the hurt says you're still breathing
because one day your winning
and the next you're weeping
they sing of Angels and Evil
whilst ******** upon their own steeples -
politicians, bankers, users and ******
matrimonial monkeys with ideals
greed and grotesque galore
teary eyes are just a disguise
there's a story behind everything you despise
*[I hate our race, just make it quick
God humanity makes me sick]*
like rabbits in warrens
we fornicate
we flaw
corrupting minds that were designed
to experiment, explore
Nov 14, 2017
Nov 14, 2017 at 2:28 PM UTC