Frog poems for those who have the appreciation for this amphibian. Since non-cartoon frogs have never really been given a great deal of attention, poems on frogs talk about the characteristics and good qualities of this amphibian. Symbolic meaning of the frog deals with creativity, fertility, luck, cleansing, intuition, transformation and forward thinking. Frogs feature prominently in folklore, nursery rhymes and fairy tales in many cultures. Frog’s croaking and leaping often are the sources of inspiration for the frog poetry. This collection of froggy poems is interestingly full of different expressions of the poets. Some poems are the glorifying tales of frog being the prince, while others find frog like features interesting enough to fit in the verses.
Frogs use their backbones to leap I wonder if they sleep?! They never drink to survive Can absorb to stay alive Survival of frogs does need Global warming to stop indeed Prop it the frog to save Earth from the
Let us go then, you and I… Let us go then… Tired? Surprisingly, we have been saying this a hundred years. It haunts. The hallucination continues. No, it leap-frogs. Eliot was dead before I was born, before we were born.
Sitting by the river bank letting my thoughts float too. A frog hopped off a lilypad, sat beside me and said, “hello you” Me being polite I replied “Hi, Hello you too” “Release me from my bondage girl. Just a
An ode to Bhimsen Joshi You sing to the earth, it’s minerals, it’s metals, it’s pure stones. You sing to the earth, it’s sand, the yellow sand, the red sand, it’s rivers of sorrow, the waves, the waves that no
The wind’s flaming sword cut through the brazen land, grasses along its wrath are flared, and seeds for the songbird fell flat on the ground, temperature’s tune seems amplified, 360 degrees around: Baked clod. And the stems turn into dried
Once there was a lady who framed up a prince to marry. She arranged that her man be turned to a frog for her plan. Kissed frog turns Prince, voila! That was the magic formula. But the Wizard said: ‘No!
My sword all the way to the hilt heavy as insomniac eyelids frogs burrowing out of red mud fields the blade rust red and fleeing amphibians leaking blood my rebar staff my knuckles barked curse of psoriasis the yellow and
When benevolent rain God showered his furious benevolence … …. life in a light flickered and died a sudden death!!! When scorched Earthlings pinned, prayed and got an ass and a frog married to sate the rain God.. He poured
life without literature, is like life without meaning, like a jellyfish with no sting, like a lion that can’t roar, like a frog that can’t leap, like a wolf without instinct, like a snake without venom, like a falcon without
hear my manifesto, dear heart in meditation from late morning bleeding larded beads of sweat a recluse’s hideaway a mobile home sealed against weather drum tight baking in the Florida sun cross legged on the cheap rag mat so thoroughly
Rain falls down, Thunder to the ground, Ice and snow, Colorful as a rainbow, Spring, summer, winter, fall, Do you know them all Minjuki, Minjuki, What did you say, Minjuki, Minjuki, What did you say, Lightning crackles, The black bird
Watching from pin hole lamps of baked clay. Every thorn was in my flesh. I was losing my voice in crowd of maniacs. Dragonflies climbing on worn leather. Through cracked sunroof – skull splinters into million heirlooms. Fever climbs the
The two little frogs awoke next day feeling very blythe and happy were they After breakfast they decided to go to the river bank. They hopped real slow They wanted to know where the river went as it bubbled along
A colourful umbrella reminds you to tell her you’re leaving today on the train You can’t help the weather in puddles against leather as the rain flows quite gently along down the road to the drain I had sunshine so
Low and behold those creatures cried and begged while the butcher cut their heads then he sells them part by part to her delicatessen Kidney pie, liver fry, sizzling heart and brain rated for their fat Hanging in freezer rooms
The echoes of those ancient poetries Red ink dripping from blank dreams Drooping pens and tightened grips Gloomy blue tunes, fatuous time slips These are few of my forgotten things Futuristic pragmatic event flows Far sighted chapter with new goals
I left you there!… Between semicolons and dashes, lost inside the days of future past, stuck in your grammatical mentality and lyrical augmentations… Even when you raised your punctuation you could not decipher my heart’s alphabet… Your comma kept jumping
I am called Balaji in Tirumala; I am called Rama in Bhadrachala; In Sholapur I am Panduranga; In all His temples, I am called Naarasimha; In Mathura I am Govinda; These but names that called I am; In wayside temple
Oh my Moonflower! I am collecting the carcasses Of your love in my memoir. When the rites are over I shall find you across the island Floating in a boat of garlands. Trying to reach you in the other land
Cereus was in bloom in nightwashed desert, sand was cool, it tipped off the contour drain, a river sent its compliments. If the death was at home, like an estranged lover, will you open the door in dusky stripes of
Thou shall think twice before insulting him Your insult leads to his humiliation His humiliation will end up as a curse His curse will drive you to misery Your misery turns out to be Hell for you Hell that you
Im in a bar, not just any bar, a magical place that takes me any place. A couple of stellas and I’m starting to think wouldn’t it be great to go to Australia and actually not think. The banter,the bollocks
Ahead of pain, we did not cry; intimating of dreams, crowded; stranded on issues, reaching nowhere. Black, a weird hairdo, unfurls a moon in half-sleep. You can open the door without sound. The snake writhes under your feet. A traveler
In those moments you succumb to the windless state, before mills dormant arms When you shed colored skies and scented breeze, letters detach from their horizontal stance. This familiar place of utter embraced distance, this far edge of nameless field.
When something exists, the opposite does too Black and white, hot and cold, old and new Love and hate, heaven and hell, left and right North and South, peace and war, day and night To give, to fix, to begin,
Mind your mind with positive and lacquer, 47 degree angles wrapped in her favourite brochure, pinned to the left wing of a soft song. Be free, be happy, be sad, be the wind, be the rain, be wind-rain be god
A green smoke was rising to ferret out the elusive pain without body. I went in search of fidgety words to patch up the conflicts of flesh. Bold as Passiflora, Crucifixion was complete. Today a gift of obeyance will arrive.
A sleight of the hand, a melodramatic move; Fate plays its final hand, A royal flush established, a victorious counter-move. Or was it simply you, in tandem with candor? Your misdemeanor forgotten, Simply an existential demeanor? How do you plead,
As the darkness descends, We find, Ourselves failing. Reminiscence Always reminds Of days , Long gone, Of cataclysms, Barely survived. This tale of Our doom Swears, We never relinquished, Yet this conte Foretells the promises, Of woes Yet unseen. These
Watching the wilting dividers, wanted to declock the time in timeless death: though life must move on. After amputation, body waits to be lifted, negating the bed. Now it was time, which would you like, nouns that hurt? Or verbs