Cuckoo Poems - Poems about Cuckoo

Cunning cuckoo, craftily creeping, Cackling, cawing, constantly cheating! Clocks keep clanging, chiming, churning, Cuckoo’s call--chaotic, concerning! Cranky critters, clueless, confused, Chased the cheater--cleverly bruised! Cuckoo, chuckling, cheekily flew, Claiming nests like cuckoos do! Wouldn’t trust that cuckoo chap-- Crafty con artist with a claptrap trap!...

Continue reading...

still bright orange rinds around juice, mixing with a few very green leaves, mixing ultimately with fried rice and chicken; no peas or carrots. finally in the mouth, hands letting go of virtual reality, face cleansed of sweat; finally eating at two o’clock. yes…yes, earlier hot chocolate with teeny tiny marshmallows. wake up time was ten o’clock. the cuckoo clock, doesn’t tattle; stays silent. at my grandma’s...

Continue reading...

The one which lives on trees The one which makes heart melt Just with its voice. The one which is abandoned by mom The one which is bullied Just because of its colour Do you know who it is? ...

Continue reading...

Patty Lou said hello, I am cuckoo then she giggled like it was a joke I did not know what to make of her my strategy was to avoid her but we were on a bus trip one night we were the only ones awake we had a lovely chat for hours my husband says I am nutty, she said. I think you...

Continue reading...

Let's keep this just between me and you If the rest of the world only knew They'd examine my brain And they might think I'm sane But my friends all know I'm wackadoo...

Continue reading...

Does the wolf still prowl within our sheepish dreams, or is it now a cuckoo nesting comfortably deep and sly behind our eyes? Give me the wolf any day, for that secretive bird has grown fat, it nestles, it fluffs out a sick complacency, it has become too large for its small nest. The wolf hides it gnaws at its old teeth, wanes thin with...

Continue reading...

The Trolls of Ayeres Glare the Stare that speaks in volume ...

Continue reading...

“cuckoo clock” waking not to the sound of guten morgen Freeman’s voice In my head Instead It’s screaming the screams of Sam Kinison...

Continue reading...

Dear Cuckoo, You come again, I hear your song, But I’m left empty, At the shore of creativity. My pen bleeds nothing, My creativity lies in pieces, There’s a hole in my poetry bag, I can not save your beautiful songs. Darkness has fallen on the world, And you keep reminding me, Of the lost beauty. Don’t sing, dear cuckoo, Your songs are wasted, In this robotic world. Go and...

Continue reading...

Cuckoo, he cried as he crept into my bed and stayed there, stretching to fill the space Cuckoo, he cried as he crept into my house This is my space too now Make sure to keep it clean Cuckoo, he cried as he crept into my kitchen You should have it arranged like this Don't forget now Cuckoo, he cried as he crept into my living room and faced the screen, unmoving I'm...

Continue reading...

A team of Japanese scientist check their watches agree, but cannot agree on the date to reveal what they are hiding now from curious eyes. Without the ability to look through a time-telescope. I cannot figure out what they are up to. Archeologists have discovered possibly the first Black Forest cuckoo clock. It has been authenticated, but I don’t know by whom, and...

Continue reading...

You have fine feathers I knew that from the first Principle. How I wished to touch you and readily remember your response!....

Continue reading...

May I get serious for a moment Sorry “serious” is not in my vocabulary I try, and try but to no avail Perhaps it's somewhat hereditary Got it from my cuckoo son Scott He sure didn't warn me he was contagious Some of his humour is really far out Might even call it outrageous Did he get from me, did I get it...

Continue reading...

The clocks go back on Sunday. Don't forget! Another hour in bed for those that sleep For those that don't, another hour to keep On thinking of the things that we regret Time rumbles on. We fumble to reset Our cuckoo clocks and watch as all the sheep We counted slowly slide back down the steep And stony mountain in the mud...

Continue reading...

[According to Mr Google, what we Brits call a vest is what Americans call an undershirt] The completely cuckoo cuckoo Had got too big for his nest And so he made a hammock From a tatty old string vest But when he hung it up he slipped His feet went through the mesh He flapped until his skin rubbed raw And he was featherless So...

Continue reading...