You call us vermin
Nuisances, pests
Simply because we are strong enough
To live in YOUR waste
To thrive on YOUR scraps
We are not vermin
We are survivors
You are the pest.
There is a species of marsupial so pretty
You’d be surprised to know that they’re witty
They enjoy applesauce
And playing in the moss
Yes Opossums run our city.
What is it about the Opossum
That makes it so awfully awesome
If asked, (the marsupial) while eating his soup he’ll
Ignore you until he’s done flossin’
oh possum
wipe thy brow
and plow thy mouth
the vision is not as far as
my might is gnar leap yes
i misspoke–
and u poked
forgetting to manipulate
and castigate
the withdrawals of mind
the mind of
oh possum
Hey Jackson,
If you’re trying to impress a girl save the poetry for later~much later.
Do you dance, perchance? Or play the ukelele?
Pearl of Possibilities
Well, here’s a bad idea… A poem, actually. Still have to scrape together some cash, though. This one’s directed more toward your caregiver/channeler than YOU, Pearl. I hope you don’t mind.
Beneath this fine performance
Your sincerity shows through
“To gently throw the squirrel”
A phrase so wrong, and yet so true
You go beyond crazy cat-lady
Too elegant for slapstick
I think I sprained my face from laughing
Please pass the Chapstick
Still, your tenderness toward animals
Especially opossums
And a despotic long-dead squirrel
Suggest that you are awesome
Go forth in loving lunacy
Spreading mirth and joy
To all (including one who harbours
just a little bit of a crush
And… Never mind, I’m coy)
I guess that last bit’s no surprise — kindness, weirdness, intelligence, poise, ageless beauty, and an amazing sense of humour… What’s not to like? You probably get that a lot.
Suffice to say, I don’t think you’re a bad person.
Take me, your possum out to the ball game; or take me along to a Joan Rivers, Phyllis Diller show.
Buy me some cream cheese and cracker jacks, scented cinnamon weasel candles, or a hamburger Jumbo Jack.
Watch out for our teetering stacks of breakfast snacks, we possums can eat a mound of confetti flap jacks, and we love to lick the hair right off your back. All possums like to sing; dance and play hide and seek from within a gunny sack.
We like to listen to Herb Albert and Tom Jones records as we climb up and down the stairs sniffing out ants. If you see you see clothing walking down your hallway, it may be one of us trying on your pants. Possum’s skinny dip with our ant eater friends from Buffalo, NY in their neighborhood track; afterwards we play games balancing on our noses a hacky sack.
Most of all we possums enjoy, “spiked eggnog drinks, “and sipping our suds in the fog, with you dear friend and your flamboyant pedigree dog. Together lets write blogs, of Cyclops eyed coyotes walking bull legged across a raging river, atop a green mossy log.
Highly spiffed you say, we must be, as hogs? “Well let’s just say,” “We are soused with grog that would turn pale green, even some one eyed high jumping, pole vaulting frogs.
Spiked eggnog smoothies send us possums drunk, into outer space. We’ll grin from ear to ear with a smile on our rat terrier looking face. If you throw into this mix a lemon lime twist, and some peppered hominy snacks too, it’s better to us than an aardvark’s kiss and some okra starch spitting elastic chew!
Dull is never a thing we possums do, we can chase a tree monkey right into a gymnasium filled celebrity tabloid zoo. We Irish kilt wearing Possums fight ferocious lions, with our pearly teeth choppers a glare, yet we are sophisticated and romantically comical with our gazed dark eyed stare.
When we eggnog drinking possums, get really drunk, we play dead as a manicured bear floor rug. Our breath smells “like, you guessed it, a dead possum, oooh, ugg….!” So give us dear ones, your best smoldering jalapeño hot squeeze, and your best flannel eared baboon hug, please.
As possums we always stock up on imported eggnog kamikaze strong spritzers, we also stockpile armpits full of ham hocks for those wintery chilling nights’ blizzards. Lizards tickle as they go down our gizzards.
Our Possum family loves anything made of those round tangy egg yolk whites! When we get eggnog smashed, we look vicious as vampire bats seeking a bite. Though we never howl at the moon, we do love to fly kites, particularly with Sinbad on hot sultry Arabian nights.
If dear reader you should drink with us egg whites under neon lights, a sweet snort or more than two, please keep on walking if you see a fellow possum wearing flaming red satin tights, under the foggy dews night. Otherwise we will have nothing more to do with you!
Never would we accept you saying, “Your visual imagery of tights,” was brought on by drinking our favorite possum brew! Nor would we possums relish the fact you are hungered by the drink contents we share with you. So don’t even think about, us possums ending up in your tasty stew. If you do, dear drinking buddy’s you better get a clue; we don’t want to have to call a mob legion of possums down upon your head,
Is this clear what we possums to you have said? We would never wish to see you our eggnog drinking buddy, play possum dead.
As possum’s we all report to a mafia boss and take orders from, Pit Bull P.T. Possum Ned! He still has whiskers growing out of his 90 year old mafia Godfather head. Tree leaf branches make up Ned’s tail swinging bed. A raccoon coat he wears that all his family dread.
Mostly we are party fun loving possum’s celebrate with us, please do.
Drink up! Dear bear footed friends; we possums toast you, with our beverage of choice, our own delicious “Egg White Brew.”
Toast with us possums this year a new; tip our drink to your lips with us, out of your possum size, # 12 sized shoes.
Hiccup! Well, excuse me, “That’s all folks; we wish you a fare fondue.” A porcupine friend of mine just showed up; with a cantaloupe/ broccoli dish, medley stew. Yum, it goes down most enjoyably with our eggnog brew! See you next week my friends, together let’s kick around a pig skin or two! Goodbye for now, from the possum who tickled your inners with my story that’s all true. TruthThatRoars@yahoo.com
Oh Goodness, Shannon, I have so many now.
But if you need Pearl’s help with yours you must be specific.
What ails you, little human?
Trust Pearl with your troubles. We won’t laugh at you, wounded one.
Nobody comes to Pearl by accident.
Pragmatic Possum Poetry for Your Pleasure
by Dennis S. Morris
Ms. Pauline a post partum pregnant parachuting Possum, pounces playfully on her Sealy Possum Pedic mattress.
Parenthetically she’s from Pittsburg, Possumvainia. Plethora’s of Pisano philanthropist pachyderms patronize Possumvainia periodically to play paintball in partnered pairs. These pragmatic Paleontologists’, pairs of possums and prehistoric Pterodactyls parade the Parliament of Possumvaina with a purpose. Perhaps to present a powerful preacher named Periwinkle in his pajamas a pamphlet on pancreatic papal porpoise policies.
Politely Preacher Periwinkle a Possum Club patron peruses the pamphlets and ponders, after predigesting the paper on papal paintball practices publically or privately privileged only to Possumvainia pregnant possums.
Paralyzed as a parasite before a pouched egg breakfast our predisposed Ms. Pauline Possum drinks a cup of Postum prior to going to the Possumville post office. There she drops off a package to her parishioner. Wearing her Parkinson’s parka, Ms. Pauline Possum peacefully parleys pleasantries with Mr. Postmark the Possumville Pittsburg provenance postmaster who suffers from postnasal drip.
Periodically Ms. Pauline, Mr. Periwinkle and Mr. Postmark Possum all play a game of Pinochle poolside as they discuss Possomville politics. Popsicles and Pop tarts they palletize, postscript to analyzing Ms. Pauline’s posture after pouncing frequently on her Seally Possum Pedic mattress. Her Pastoral Postwar Possum Syndrome paralysis has positively been predicated on Photamophis activity. Potassium bicarbonate she says makes a practical and potent pothole difference. At her comment, Mr. Periwinkle nods and parenthetically Potomac-lly politically agrees.
The procurement of Pacemakers is on the up rise in Possomville lately. Dr. Possumage, a Parametric Pittsburg Possom- -la-tologist is alarmed to the predisposed condition of many resident possums there.
Pistachio Electro Possomitry Physics has kept many possums up evenings pondering the plight of placebo public injected discussions of posture, which affects their pullinary palpitations. This is precipitated by possum tail tree hanging practices. Often a game of paintball or a good possum pogo stick jump helps circulate plasma particles and precipitates reduction of plaque that puts possum pathology out of whack.
Possum-ablly so, Plutonium Possum Photography has gained pleasurable explosive enthusiasm among pregnant pedicured Possum of the Polynesian populace. Culturally speaking along the promenade, possum-a-tronics, clay-mation and animation is very popular with petrified possums and prairie dogs..
A forthright spokesman named: Possomandera of the Possum Pigmy Republic is progenitor of stellar propagation of Possom-eugenics. If he should Possom-la-tize relationships with Aardvarks and Badgers the whole county of Possomville might be pre-conceptionalized with possum premature ventricular contraction attacks. Possums aboard might press the panic button and incur pantamonia. Prejudices rank high among parsley and petunias that prefer peaceful possums over paranoid eaters of their leaves and petals. This is all too much for predisposed Pauline Possom to ponder upon for one possum night. TruthThatRoars@yahoo.com
Proud Possum
and you have reason to be
The creationists say God’s intervention
creating the earth
was 4000 years ago
You are older than God
And marsupial mother you will not gently
let your offspring be killed.
Pouch proud you
carry them
Until they fend for themselves.
Looking at you
it is hard to tell is that a grin
or are you threatening?
You know.
I can only wonder.
Here is a poem for you. Have been rehabbing opossums for 8 years…they are WONDERFUL animals.
Little eyes, big ears, quiet as the night.
Babies riding on my back, holding on tight.
Eating slug, eating snail, looking for some grapes.
Protecting babies with Growls and scary gapes.
Watching the babies grow so big, learning how to hunt.
Playing while they still so young, even Joey the runt.
Now their grown and on their way.
At last a peaceful sleep, during the day.
Partial to Possums Verse – G – C – G – C – G – D
C – G – C – G – C – G – D
Chorus – C – G – C – G – C – G – D –G
( Capo 3 – np )
Well, songs have been sung to the eagle, as he flies like a god in the sun
And the wild stallions beauty goes unmatched
as through the canyon he runs
Now the black-footed ferret’s endangered,
and the grizzly is sure losin ground
but the critter I favor, has a quite different flavor
He’s a gray-grizzled-thumb-busted clown
Chorus:
Excuse me I’m partial to possums, I don’t care if they don’t hit your spot
As I drive down the highway, I wave to each one
I don’t know if he’s fakin or not
Now, some folks don’t like the opossum ,Say his menu is all in bad taste
But he’s a carrion hiker and an eco-recycler
And he won’t let that road kill go to waste
And my possum buddies don’t say much
When they visit, they’re really the rage
They just sit contemplatin with their mouth salivatin
For my grandpa to die of old age
Chorus:
Now, you may say I’m quite misanthropic
Cause I don’t choose to run with my kind
But the humans I’ve known and the greed that they’ve shown
I’ve picked the superior mind
Possums don’t ruin their rivers, possums don’t cut down their trees
They don’t take life for granted, they don’t screw up the planet
It’s possums for me if you please
Chorus 2:
That’s right, I’m partial to possums,
I don’t know if you ain’t got the word
As the humans drive by, we’ll just open one eye
And flip them the Opossum-byrd
Why, bien sur! I’d be HONORED! Heck, I thought I WAS submitting it. I teach at a Big Ten university and sent
your poetry reading link to my poetry class. You have new fans. They’re also branching out to your other videos. We are all enamored avec vous et Pearl!
Glad to hear it, Gumby.
Welcome Ms. Julie’s poetry class.
Pearl Loves Poets.
Please see the ME Pearl Explained video to get the players straight.
I am ME Pearl, the dead squirrel who runs this empire. The dim witted human is my channeller, Georgette, and then we have the big rats, Plum, Peach, Pear and a couple of Apples.
Fugi Apple is the poet of the family and may win the contest with her submission of Apple Sauce.
April 2012 is National Poetry Month when winning entries will be read on Youtube’s MEpearlA by professional poets.
Your submission manner was perfectly correct. Someone who isn’t ME got confused. The one who is ME understands everything the first time. Just so we’re clear.
Hmmm, wonder why the other 9 Universities are so slow to respond. Yours must be the best.
Pearl, Priestess of Poetry Procurement
Apple can remember riding her momma’s back,
hanging onto the hide with her sweet little crochet-hook paws.
If she had flopped to the ground, Momma would have
made a U-turn like a big furry barge to save the Apple
of her eye.
Yes, indeed, Gumby sur la lune.
Would you care to submit your charming comment to Pearl’s Poetry Corner?
We’re currently running a contest and you, Kiddo, could be a contender.
Pearl de Poesie
Oh,intuitive creature with such wisdom, can you answer a question that has been robbed me of precious sleep for so many nights. Why were Custer defeated at Little Big Horn. Was it Custer’s recklessness and arrogance, was Reno too drunk and frightened to go to Custer’s aid, or was Benteen so jealous and cowardly that he deliberately delayed sending his reinforcements to Custer. Or was it simply because the Sioux outnumbered them. Maybe if you can speak to Custer himself, he’ll tell you why the troops were massacred. And, if you do talk to him,tell him I said “hey”. You might also ask him where Jimmy Hoffa us buried and if Lee Harvey Oswald acted along.
Hello Woodrow,
What a fine name.
Did you have a poem for us?
As for Custer, all of the above, although he still believes he won that battle. Some people!
Jimmy Hoffa isn’t buried.
And, no.
Pearl of Perpetual, well, Everything
Nocturnal creature caught in the light
practice neither fight nor flight
Play Dead.
Play Possum.
It’s a bored game.
It’s a dance.
Teachers standing over students
at the prom.
“Billy, Sally, put your arms and legs down
and get up.”
Billy Snores.
Sally exits on all fours.
Oh Possum
You are everywhere
Revel in ubiquity, you vessel of antiquity
You promise of tomorrow, proof of yesterday
Fifty million years defying evolution.
Oh Possum
Confusing Muse of sages through the ages
Once you shared the stage with dinosaurs
Were linked with scores of smarter species gone extinct
Were on the brink, yourself, a time or two
And yet, somehow beneath that brow
Shines bright the light
Of NOW
Possum you fill me with glee
Possum when I see you I yell yippeee
Possum is different to squirrel
But no less of a ladyyy
Reader you fill us with glee
And artistic completion, yippeee
Down the rabbit hole
Through dimension
Time has slowed
Is this ascension?
Echoes of commitments pressing on my temple
Disturbing my flowing state.
Postulating O possums
Surround and reverberate.
Communicate with words unspoken. Time mends the past that seems broken. Little creatures, you are the token. Alas, I’ll call you….Alice.
SPLENDID! Thank you for sharing this beautiful work.
Pearl adores having gifted friends~
Well done! We are charmed. Thank you.
Pearl and Co.
Roses are red
Violets are blue
Opossums are scary
But will save the world too!!
Possum critter
I do not Twitter
But just for you
This I do
A limerick iter-
ation.
In 2 parts.
—————————————
This was delightful: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=leMRXm-zo4Q&feature=emb_logo&ab_channel=FoundFootageFest
H P~
Splendid ditty!
And thank you for the kind words.
Your Pal Pearl
You call us vermin
Nuisances, pests
Simply because we are strong enough
To live in YOUR waste
To thrive on YOUR scraps
We are not vermin
We are survivors
You are the pest.
There is a species of marsupial so pretty
You’d be surprised to know that they’re witty
They enjoy applesauce
And playing in the moss
Yes Opossums run our city.
What is it about the Opossum
That makes it so awfully awesome
If asked, (the marsupial) while eating his soup he’ll
Ignore you until he’s done flossin’
O, Possum
you are AWESOME
a pretty pumpkin blossom
I will toss
some applesauce
your way someday.
We LOVE this poem. You coulda been a contender. Next time.
oh possum
wipe thy brow
and plow thy mouth
the vision is not as far as
my might is gnar leap yes
i misspoke–
and u poked
forgetting to manipulate
and castigate
the withdrawals of mind
the mind of
oh possum
Thank you for sharing.
P.
Do not weep for me Opossumtina
I can not live without
goldfish
Fin
O captain my captain I want to lather up a possum and just bathe in it’s glory
You and everybody else.
The P
Wondrous walls is brightened light
I lie down, my heart in fight
Silver lead deep and n my chest
I close my eyes as u am lain to rest
Hey Jackson,
If you’re trying to impress a girl save the poetry for later~much later.
Do you dance, perchance? Or play the ukelele?
Pearl of Possibilities
Well, here’s a bad idea… A poem, actually. Still have to scrape together some cash, though. This one’s directed more toward your caregiver/channeler than YOU, Pearl. I hope you don’t mind.
Beneath this fine performance
Your sincerity shows through
“To gently throw the squirrel”
A phrase so wrong, and yet so true
You go beyond crazy cat-lady
Too elegant for slapstick
I think I sprained my face from laughing
Please pass the Chapstick
Still, your tenderness toward animals
Especially opossums
And a despotic long-dead squirrel
Suggest that you are awesome
Go forth in loving lunacy
Spreading mirth and joy
To all (including one who harbours
just a little bit of a crush
And… Never mind, I’m coy)
I guess that last bit’s no surprise — kindness, weirdness, intelligence, poise, ageless beauty, and an amazing sense of humour… What’s not to like? You probably get that a lot.
Suffice to say, I don’t think you’re a bad person.
Cheers,
Patrick.
Brilliant, Patrick~
Too bad the contest is over but you have won my heart.
Blessings,
Georgette
A Possum Tale of Ale
by Dennis S. Morris
Take me, your possum out to the ball game; or take me along to a Joan Rivers, Phyllis Diller show.
Buy me some cream cheese and cracker jacks, scented cinnamon weasel candles, or a hamburger Jumbo Jack.
Watch out for our teetering stacks of breakfast snacks, we possums can eat a mound of confetti flap jacks, and we love to lick the hair right off your back. All possums like to sing; dance and play hide and seek from within a gunny sack.
We like to listen to Herb Albert and Tom Jones records as we climb up and down the stairs sniffing out ants. If you see you see clothing walking down your hallway, it may be one of us trying on your pants. Possum’s skinny dip with our ant eater friends from Buffalo, NY in their neighborhood track; afterwards we play games balancing on our noses a hacky sack.
Most of all we possums enjoy, “spiked eggnog drinks, “and sipping our suds in the fog, with you dear friend and your flamboyant pedigree dog. Together lets write blogs, of Cyclops eyed coyotes walking bull legged across a raging river, atop a green mossy log.
Highly spiffed you say, we must be, as hogs? “Well let’s just say,” “We are soused with grog that would turn pale green, even some one eyed high jumping, pole vaulting frogs.
Spiked eggnog smoothies send us possums drunk, into outer space. We’ll grin from ear to ear with a smile on our rat terrier looking face. If you throw into this mix a lemon lime twist, and some peppered hominy snacks too, it’s better to us than an aardvark’s kiss and some okra starch spitting elastic chew!
Dull is never a thing we possums do, we can chase a tree monkey right into a gymnasium filled celebrity tabloid zoo. We Irish kilt wearing Possums fight ferocious lions, with our pearly teeth choppers a glare, yet we are sophisticated and romantically comical with our gazed dark eyed stare.
When we eggnog drinking possums, get really drunk, we play dead as a manicured bear floor rug. Our breath smells “like, you guessed it, a dead possum, oooh, ugg….!” So give us dear ones, your best smoldering jalapeño hot squeeze, and your best flannel eared baboon hug, please.
As possums we always stock up on imported eggnog kamikaze strong spritzers, we also stockpile armpits full of ham hocks for those wintery chilling nights’ blizzards. Lizards tickle as they go down our gizzards.
Our Possum family loves anything made of those round tangy egg yolk whites! When we get eggnog smashed, we look vicious as vampire bats seeking a bite. Though we never howl at the moon, we do love to fly kites, particularly with Sinbad on hot sultry Arabian nights.
If dear reader you should drink with us egg whites under neon lights, a sweet snort or more than two, please keep on walking if you see a fellow possum wearing flaming red satin tights, under the foggy dews night. Otherwise we will have nothing more to do with you!
Never would we accept you saying, “Your visual imagery of tights,” was brought on by drinking our favorite possum brew! Nor would we possums relish the fact you are hungered by the drink contents we share with you. So don’t even think about, us possums ending up in your tasty stew. If you do, dear drinking buddy’s you better get a clue; we don’t want to have to call a mob legion of possums down upon your head,
Is this clear what we possums to you have said? We would never wish to see you our eggnog drinking buddy, play possum dead.
As possum’s we all report to a mafia boss and take orders from, Pit Bull P.T. Possum Ned! He still has whiskers growing out of his 90 year old mafia Godfather head. Tree leaf branches make up Ned’s tail swinging bed. A raccoon coat he wears that all his family dread.
Mostly we are party fun loving possum’s celebrate with us, please do.
Drink up! Dear bear footed friends; we possums toast you, with our beverage of choice, our own delicious “Egg White Brew.”
Toast with us possums this year a new; tip our drink to your lips with us, out of your possum size, # 12 sized shoes.
Hiccup! Well, excuse me, “That’s all folks; we wish you a fare fondue.” A porcupine friend of mine just showed up; with a cantaloupe/ broccoli dish, medley stew. Yum, it goes down most enjoyably with our eggnog brew! See you next week my friends, together let’s kick around a pig skin or two! Goodbye for now, from the possum who tickled your inners with my story that’s all true.
TruthThatRoars@yahoo.com
get a life
Oh Goodness, Shannon, I have so many now.
But if you need Pearl’s help with yours you must be specific.
What ails you, little human?
Trust Pearl with your troubles. We won’t laugh at you, wounded one.
Nobody comes to Pearl by accident.
Pragmatic Possum Poetry for Your Pleasure
by Dennis S. Morris
Ms. Pauline a post partum pregnant parachuting Possum, pounces playfully on her Sealy Possum Pedic mattress.
Parenthetically she’s from Pittsburg, Possumvainia. Plethora’s of Pisano philanthropist pachyderms patronize Possumvainia periodically to play paintball in partnered pairs. These pragmatic Paleontologists’, pairs of possums and prehistoric Pterodactyls parade the Parliament of Possumvaina with a purpose. Perhaps to present a powerful preacher named Periwinkle in his pajamas a pamphlet on pancreatic papal porpoise policies.
Politely Preacher Periwinkle a Possum Club patron peruses the pamphlets and ponders, after predigesting the paper on papal paintball practices publically or privately privileged only to Possumvainia pregnant possums.
Paralyzed as a parasite before a pouched egg breakfast our predisposed Ms. Pauline Possum drinks a cup of Postum prior to going to the Possumville post office. There she drops off a package to her parishioner. Wearing her Parkinson’s parka, Ms. Pauline Possum peacefully parleys pleasantries with Mr. Postmark the Possumville Pittsburg provenance postmaster who suffers from postnasal drip.
Periodically Ms. Pauline, Mr. Periwinkle and Mr. Postmark Possum all play a game of Pinochle poolside as they discuss Possomville politics. Popsicles and Pop tarts they palletize, postscript to analyzing Ms. Pauline’s posture after pouncing frequently on her Seally Possum Pedic mattress. Her Pastoral Postwar Possum Syndrome paralysis has positively been predicated on Photamophis activity. Potassium bicarbonate she says makes a practical and potent pothole difference. At her comment, Mr. Periwinkle nods and parenthetically Potomac-lly politically agrees.
The procurement of Pacemakers is on the up rise in Possomville lately. Dr. Possumage, a Parametric Pittsburg Possom- -la-tologist is alarmed to the predisposed condition of many resident possums there.
Pistachio Electro Possomitry Physics has kept many possums up evenings pondering the plight of placebo public injected discussions of posture, which affects their pullinary palpitations. This is precipitated by possum tail tree hanging practices. Often a game of paintball or a good possum pogo stick jump helps circulate plasma particles and precipitates reduction of plaque that puts possum pathology out of whack.
Possum-ablly so, Plutonium Possum Photography has gained pleasurable explosive enthusiasm among pregnant pedicured Possum of the Polynesian populace. Culturally speaking along the promenade, possum-a-tronics, clay-mation and animation is very popular with petrified possums and prairie dogs..
A forthright spokesman named: Possomandera of the Possum Pigmy Republic is progenitor of stellar propagation of Possom-eugenics. If he should Possom-la-tize relationships with Aardvarks and Badgers the whole county of Possomville might be pre-conceptionalized with possum premature ventricular contraction attacks. Possums aboard might press the panic button and incur pantamonia. Prejudices rank high among parsley and petunias that prefer peaceful possums over paranoid eaters of their leaves and petals. This is all too much for predisposed Pauline Possom to ponder upon for one possum night.
TruthThatRoars@yahoo.com
…. but opossum starts with an O
Poetic license, dear Yo.
Pearl knows because Pearl IS poetry.
Pearl the Squirrel (see?)
Proud Possum
and you have reason to be
The creationists say God’s intervention
creating the earth
was 4000 years ago
You are older than God
And marsupial mother you will not gently
let your offspring be killed.
Pouch proud you
carry them
Until they fend for themselves.
Looking at you
it is hard to tell is that a grin
or are you threatening?
You know.
I can only wonder.
Here is a poem for you. Have been rehabbing opossums for 8 years…they are WONDERFUL animals.
Little eyes, big ears, quiet as the night.
Babies riding on my back, holding on tight.
Eating slug, eating snail, looking for some grapes.
Protecting babies with Growls and scary gapes.
Watching the babies grow so big, learning how to hunt.
Playing while they still so young, even Joey the runt.
Now their grown and on their way.
At last a peaceful sleep, during the day.
This poem submitted by Sharron Critter
Nighttime Neighbor
Scurrying along the curb at night
my nighttime neighbor
long nose
eyes bright
scurrying quickly along
Rustling the bushes near mine
my night time neighbor
coarse hair
toes fine
curiously exploring the bushes
Are seeking out friends little neighbor?
Are out there on your own?
Where is your mom little neighbor?
Are you far away from home?
It’s been time since I’ve seen my opossum
My nighttime neighbor
Wild reminder
Toothy, awesome
Time enough to wonder.
We love it.
Possum.
Stop hissing.
You are a possum, not a cat.
Oh possum,
You are awesome,
Though your tail
Makes me feel pale.
I know I shouldn’t
Think of you as rodent,
It’s just your appendage
Makes me offended.
You’re docile and sweet
(As long as you have treats).
Oh possum,
You are awesome.
Partial to Possums Verse – G – C – G – C – G – D
C – G – C – G – C – G – D
Chorus – C – G – C – G – C – G – D –G
( Capo 3 – np )
Well, songs have been sung to the eagle, as he flies like a god in the sun
And the wild stallions beauty goes unmatched
as through the canyon he runs
Now the black-footed ferret’s endangered,
and the grizzly is sure losin ground
but the critter I favor, has a quite different flavor
He’s a gray-grizzled-thumb-busted clown
Chorus:
Excuse me I’m partial to possums, I don’t care if they don’t hit your spot
As I drive down the highway, I wave to each one
I don’t know if he’s fakin or not
Now, some folks don’t like the opossum ,Say his menu is all in bad taste
But he’s a carrion hiker and an eco-recycler
And he won’t let that road kill go to waste
And my possum buddies don’t say much
When they visit, they’re really the rage
They just sit contemplatin with their mouth salivatin
For my grandpa to die of old age
Chorus:
Now, you may say I’m quite misanthropic
Cause I don’t choose to run with my kind
But the humans I’ve known and the greed that they’ve shown
I’ve picked the superior mind
Possums don’t ruin their rivers, possums don’t cut down their trees
They don’t take life for granted, they don’t screw up the planet
It’s possums for me if you please
Chorus 2:
That’s right, I’m partial to possums,
I don’t know if you ain’t got the word
As the humans drive by, we’ll just open one eye
And flip them the Opossum-byrd
Steve Moore
( Opossumsongs © – 1993 ) – reg. ascap
sigh…Thank you.
P de W
Why, bien sur! I’d be HONORED! Heck, I thought I WAS submitting it. I teach at a Big Ten university and sent
your poetry reading link to my poetry class. You have new fans. They’re also branching out to your other videos. We are all enamored avec vous et Pearl!
Glad to hear it, Gumby.
Welcome Ms. Julie’s poetry class.
Pearl Loves Poets.
Please see the ME Pearl Explained video to get the players straight.
I am ME Pearl, the dead squirrel who runs this empire. The dim witted human is my channeller, Georgette, and then we have the big rats, Plum, Peach, Pear and a couple of Apples.
Fugi Apple is the poet of the family and may win the contest with her submission of Apple Sauce.
April 2012 is National Poetry Month when winning entries will be read on Youtube’s MEpearlA by professional poets.
Your submission manner was perfectly correct. Someone who isn’t ME got confused. The one who is ME understands everything the first time. Just so we’re clear.
Hmmm, wonder why the other 9 Universities are so slow to respond. Yours must be the best.
Pearl, Priestess of Poetry Procurement
Apple can remember riding her momma’s back,
hanging onto the hide with her sweet little crochet-hook paws.
If she had flopped to the ground, Momma would have
made a U-turn like a big furry barge to save the Apple
of her eye.
Yes, indeed, Gumby sur la lune.
Would you care to submit your charming comment to Pearl’s Poetry Corner?
We’re currently running a contest and you, Kiddo, could be a contender.
Pearl de Poesie
Haiku for a Thursday in Autumn
This Opossum joy!
So many hours on YouTube.
I have lost my job.
@Margaret: HA HA HA I LOVE THAT!
Opossum. Opossum,
Don’t ever try to boss one,
And, don’t ever cross one,
Opossum. Opossum
Opossum. Opossum
Feed him on an apple blossom.
Brush his teeth, and then
start flossing.
Opossum. Opossum
Opossum. Opossum
Your beauty runs deep, far beyond the rat like tail and abominable teeth.
Opossum. Opossum
Opossum. Opossum
There’s just no way to stop ’em!
What Fur
See the glistening pebble eyes
ears of paper
sturdy thighs
See the pouch – a home for many
waddling gait
and grin of ninny
tail to reach with corkscrew grab
toothy smile
no gift of gab
And what is this upon your head
still twitching though
you’re playing dead
It seems you have two paper ears
the oddest texture
so endears
surrounding pink and nubbly nose
and then oh my
those little toes!
But what it is I am most sure
will bring a smile is
OH WHAT FUR!
Oh,intuitive creature with such wisdom, can you answer a question that has been robbed me of precious sleep for so many nights. Why were Custer defeated at Little Big Horn. Was it Custer’s recklessness and arrogance, was Reno too drunk and frightened to go to Custer’s aid, or was Benteen so jealous and cowardly that he deliberately delayed sending his reinforcements to Custer. Or was it simply because the Sioux outnumbered them. Maybe if you can speak to Custer himself, he’ll tell you why the troops were massacred. And, if you do talk to him,tell him I said “hey”. You might also ask him where Jimmy Hoffa us buried and if Lee Harvey Oswald acted along.
Hello Woodrow,
What a fine name.
Did you have a poem for us?
As for Custer, all of the above, although he still believes he won that battle. Some people!
Jimmy Hoffa isn’t buried.
And, no.
Pearl of Perpetual, well, Everything
I Saw The Best Minds of My Generation Play Possum
Nocturnal creature caught in the light
practice neither fight nor flight
Play Dead.
Play Possum.
It’s a bored game.
It’s a dance.
Teachers standing over students
at the prom.
“Billy, Sally, put your arms and legs down
and get up.”
Billy Snores.
Sally exits on all fours.
-Pigfoot
Well said Pigfoot. WELL SAID!!
Apple Sauce
Apple Sauce and dirt
I like my foot
Dark Blankie Sleep
OW !
Apple Sauce
Blankie sauce
Oh Possum
You are everywhere
Revel in ubiquity, you vessel of antiquity
You promise of tomorrow, proof of yesterday
Fifty million years defying evolution.
Oh Possum
Confusing Muse of sages through the ages
Once you shared the stage with dinosaurs
Were linked with scores of smarter species gone extinct
Were on the brink, yourself, a time or two
And yet, somehow beneath that brow
Shines bright the light
Of NOW
ahh