Here is a list of Pets / Animals Poems ordered by Most Liked, posted by members. Read poetry, post your own poems or comments. Poems on these pages are copyrighted © by the authors who entered them. Click here to post a poem.
Memoires of a Lion
I am the king of kings whose name is still neat.
The strongest one who doesn't know what weakness means.
I am the worthy creature who doesn't eat except meat.
Shame on you human you scandalized the glory of lions.
Shame on you Ozymandias, our body can't be yours.
We, unlike you, are neither greedy nor steel.
Look upon the rules that we respect in wars.
The greediest one of us spends days on one meal.
The rules of our combat were still honorable and fair.
Kill me man, torture, or slay me, but do not disguise in my honour.
The crimes you commit make Gulliver despair.
May the lion-body of Remises leave the evil head and be a runner.
Fortunately, I am still a lion with hairy head.
Who respect the rules that made by the dead.
A poem by Fayez
The strongest one who doesn't know what weakness means.
I am the worthy creature who doesn't eat except meat.
Shame on you human you scandalized the glory of lions.
Shame on you Ozymandias, our body can't be yours.
We, unlike you, are neither greedy nor steel.
Look upon the rules that we respect in wars.
The greediest one of us spends days on one meal.
The rules of our combat were still honorable and fair.
Kill me man, torture, or slay me, but do not disguise in my honour.
The crimes you commit make Gulliver despair.
May the lion-body of Remises leave the evil head and be a runner.
Fortunately, I am still a lion with hairy head.
Who respect the rules that made by the dead.
A poem by Fayez
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Jun 2009
About this poem:
I wrote this poem when I was studying at Bethlehem University. I wrote when the war of Iraq had broken out. I felt sad for people who die everyday and found that Lions are good creatures that follow rules, don't lie and....Let Live the Animals
They have life,
They are flesh and blood,
They have families,
They are just like you and me.
They feel pain,
They get hurt,
Though they can't say it,
The way we blurt.
Animals just look different,
They aren’t other,
Created by the same Creator,
We just are crueller.
We conquer,
We give them no space,
We do not compliment them,
As how our Creator said.
Know you people,
Creations of God,
Love other creatures,
Do not get them gnawed.
They are flesh and blood,
They have families,
They are just like you and me.
They feel pain,
They get hurt,
Though they can't say it,
The way we blurt.
Animals just look different,
They aren’t other,
Created by the same Creator,
We just are crueller.
We conquer,
We give them no space,
We do not compliment them,
As how our Creator said.
Know you people,
Creations of God,
Love other creatures,
Do not get them gnawed.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Jul 2009
About this poem:
A poem dedicated to all animals. Praying that mankind would give them space.sweet love
for how sweet you are like a strawberry by far much more than sugar and spice alot more than everything nice as there is alot of love in the air youre the woman for me i declare the wedding will be soon how down to earth we are planning our dreams starting a family living happily til death do us apart our love joy and god always in our heart nothing to over come us to tear us apart as we stay together forever
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Jul 2009
About this poem:
its about how love feelsbees
I like bees, they're so
Yellow and black, and yellow
And black and yellow
Yellow and black, and yellow
And black and yellow
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Sep 2009
About this poem:
i wrote this cos i love bees
a wink in time
a shot o'er the bough brought fear through the night
still, I wish you very much the same
never realizing the terrible chore
the unrealistic claim
that we both were to blame
no matter what our name
and who we chose to shame
or why we play the game
it always ends the same
we're human, expect little more
perspectives pick up the weakness of you now
the softness and bruising inside
I only try to help 'cause I know
the terrible thoughts in your mind
only leave you behind
and others of your kind
friends you may find
if they be of likemind
must have come from the same vine
thus securing that none ever grow
food on the table, but not a bite for me
nourishment? huh? what a joke!
I feed upon your vice and all you say is good
my belly fat with flab
from pronouncements that you blab
your failed attention for to grab
spotlight for diatribe
now you'll never hide
see your darkness deep inside
your heart is black, your mind is merely wood
still, I wish you very much the same
never realizing the terrible chore
the unrealistic claim
that we both were to blame
no matter what our name
and who we chose to shame
or why we play the game
it always ends the same
we're human, expect little more
perspectives pick up the weakness of you now
the softness and bruising inside
I only try to help 'cause I know
the terrible thoughts in your mind
only leave you behind
and others of your kind
friends you may find
if they be of likemind
must have come from the same vine
thus securing that none ever grow
food on the table, but not a bite for me
nourishment? huh? what a joke!
I feed upon your vice and all you say is good
my belly fat with flab
from pronouncements that you blab
your failed attention for to grab
spotlight for diatribe
now you'll never hide
see your darkness deep inside
your heart is black, your mind is merely wood
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Sep 2009
About this poem:
was to recall that cur, always bit the hand that fed them
Tripe
TRIPE
Unbelieving nostrils flare upon each taxed face
smelling death's breath in an unfamiliar place.
Survival's panic flashes in their innocent eyes
as not guilty pleas echo in their unheeded cries!
The end comes with steel piercing a trapped head
then shackles grip hind legs, before they are dead.
Hoisting them stupefied to where jugulars are cut
now no more open fields, or leisurely casual strut!
Amid the stench of death and near congealed blood
the compulsory spilling out of that morning's cud.
For the stomach walls to be misshapen then dipped
in mother's milk, after all tubes have been clipped!
Hired slaughtermen sharpen blades to start again
on those left cowering without a future to sustain.
With only a raw instinct, fostered by others fright,
oh, how well all good meat eaters will eat tonight!
sonofadam
Unbelieving nostrils flare upon each taxed face
smelling death's breath in an unfamiliar place.
Survival's panic flashes in their innocent eyes
as not guilty pleas echo in their unheeded cries!
The end comes with steel piercing a trapped head
then shackles grip hind legs, before they are dead.
Hoisting them stupefied to where jugulars are cut
now no more open fields, or leisurely casual strut!
Amid the stench of death and near congealed blood
the compulsory spilling out of that morning's cud.
For the stomach walls to be misshapen then dipped
in mother's milk, after all tubes have been clipped!
Hired slaughtermen sharpen blades to start again
on those left cowering without a future to sustain.
With only a raw instinct, fostered by others fright,
oh, how well all good meat eaters will eat tonight!
sonofadam
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Sep 2009
Post Comment
FRISKIE THE SQUIRREL
FRISKIE THE SQUIRREL
As the morning sun shines on the soft fluffy snow
The birds on the treetops are looking below
When out of his home comes frisky the squirrel
Scurrying and scampering up the tree he does go
Than sits on a tree branch with his tail curled just so
Chattering and chattering at the movements below
Then along comes thumper with snow shoes for feet
Trips over a log than takes a big leap
Benny the weasel he sneaks through the snow
Hoping that no one will see where he goes
But Hotter the owl he sees him right now
Swoops down to scare him but where did he go
Friskies’s now tired of the commotion below
So he drops down an acorn and off they all go
Written by
Dorothy Elaine Calvert
Copyrights©
As the morning sun shines on the soft fluffy snow
The birds on the treetops are looking below
When out of his home comes frisky the squirrel
Scurrying and scampering up the tree he does go
Than sits on a tree branch with his tail curled just so
Chattering and chattering at the movements below
Then along comes thumper with snow shoes for feet
Trips over a log than takes a big leap
Benny the weasel he sneaks through the snow
Hoping that no one will see where he goes
But Hotter the owl he sees him right now
Swoops down to scare him but where did he go
Friskies’s now tired of the commotion below
So he drops down an acorn and off they all go
Written by
Dorothy Elaine Calvert
Copyrights©
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Sep 2009
About this poem:
I have written about five poems about Friskie my grandson used to just love for me to tell his about friskie befor he went to sleepInstinct
What is it makes your old yard dog
Bay all night at the moon,
In chorus with the wild coyote's
Archaic clannish tune?
By daylight he's content enough
To lay around and nap.
Domesticated by his look
A ward of table scrap.
But nightfall wakens something deep
Where mind and soul convene.
Some age-old longing locked away
Embedded in his genes.
The same thing makes a fella
Who is both steadfast and sane,
Jerk down a rope and join the chase
With slack pitched in his rein.
His slight regard for consequence
Attests to what's inside.
A banner unfurled honestly,
Impossible to hide.
Some know it on the ocean's waves.
Some dig it out of mines.
It finds us on the city streets
Or high up in the pines.
It's played out in the stadiums
For all the multitude,
Or realized in the cedar breaks
In perfect solitude.
That we fool others and ourselves
It matters not at all.
We're ruled by what's inside us
When we hear the coyote call.
Bay all night at the moon,
In chorus with the wild coyote's
Archaic clannish tune?
By daylight he's content enough
To lay around and nap.
Domesticated by his look
A ward of table scrap.
But nightfall wakens something deep
Where mind and soul convene.
Some age-old longing locked away
Embedded in his genes.
The same thing makes a fella
Who is both steadfast and sane,
Jerk down a rope and join the chase
With slack pitched in his rein.
His slight regard for consequence
Attests to what's inside.
A banner unfurled honestly,
Impossible to hide.
Some know it on the ocean's waves.
Some dig it out of mines.
It finds us on the city streets
Or high up in the pines.
It's played out in the stadiums
For all the multitude,
Or realized in the cedar breaks
In perfect solitude.
That we fool others and ourselves
It matters not at all.
We're ruled by what's inside us
When we hear the coyote call.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Sep 2009
About this poem:
This poem came to me as I was riding with some friends high up in the mountains a few years ago. I'd say the poem out loud and we'd all repeat it , finding the words, making it complete. :-) It speaks of man's desire to answer what's inside. :-)
My friend
He comes to me when I feel low.
He looks and senses that somehow.
He gives me reassurance when I feel alone.
He never angers and never moans.
He's been my friend and confidente,
For 15 years and not been paid a cent.
I value him above all my friends.
We don't fight so no need for amends.
He loves me unconditionally,
And I love him as he loves me.
No other has so consistently
Seen me thru troubles and adversity.
When I am blue he knows that too.
He keeps me company just we two.
When I am feeling tired or sick
He comes to me and shares a lick.
If I'm restless and in bed cold
He marches in oh so very bold.
He wraps around my feet and toes
And I really think he truly knows.
He never goes and he never strays.
I'll hold him dear til his final days.
He doesn't have any bad habits,
Unless you consider chasing rabbits.
If you wonder who would be so loyal
Tis my cat that treats me royal.
He is now old and getting thin
But a true and tried friend he's been.
Occassionally complains, seems to talk,
Only because I forget to clean his litterbox.
l'll love him fiercely 'til he's passed away.
And will grieve untold in my own way.
He looks and senses that somehow.
He gives me reassurance when I feel alone.
He never angers and never moans.
He's been my friend and confidente,
For 15 years and not been paid a cent.
I value him above all my friends.
We don't fight so no need for amends.
He loves me unconditionally,
And I love him as he loves me.
No other has so consistently
Seen me thru troubles and adversity.
When I am blue he knows that too.
He keeps me company just we two.
When I am feeling tired or sick
He comes to me and shares a lick.
If I'm restless and in bed cold
He marches in oh so very bold.
He wraps around my feet and toes
And I really think he truly knows.
He never goes and he never strays.
I'll hold him dear til his final days.
He doesn't have any bad habits,
Unless you consider chasing rabbits.
If you wonder who would be so loyal
Tis my cat that treats me royal.
He is now old and getting thin
But a true and tried friend he's been.
Occassionally complains, seems to talk,
Only because I forget to clean his litterbox.
l'll love him fiercely 'til he's passed away.
And will grieve untold in my own way.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Dec 2009
About this poem:
Pet themeThis is why we love our pets
"off and running"
“off and running”
their conversation that night was of plans and a schedule
insightful and humorous, though all too contrite
in a day or so they’d be many miles away
traveling after dark and sleeping each day
the unlimited funds hidden in the trunk
freed their souls of the small stuff and
left their minds free to wander
in search of a new life in that tropicality over yonder
no harm, no foul
no one on their tail
it was a victimless crime
no real fear of doing time
each turn in the road an adventure
how many diners had they passed
they didn’t even try to keep track
they had no thoughts of ever going back
settling by the sea they fished and raised a garden
on weekends played music and danced till dawn
seasons passed and they lived happily ever after
days of decadence and play and unstoppable laughter
their conversation that night was of plans and a schedule
insightful and humorous, though all too contrite
in a day or so they’d be many miles away
traveling after dark and sleeping each day
the unlimited funds hidden in the trunk
freed their souls of the small stuff and
left their minds free to wander
in search of a new life in that tropicality over yonder
no harm, no foul
no one on their tail
it was a victimless crime
no real fear of doing time
each turn in the road an adventure
how many diners had they passed
they didn’t even try to keep track
they had no thoughts of ever going back
settling by the sea they fished and raised a garden
on weekends played music and danced till dawn
seasons passed and they lived happily ever after
days of decadence and play and unstoppable laughter
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Jan 2010
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