ANIMAL (AND OTHER CREATURES) POEMS
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The Hippocrocoditomus, The Crocohippopotodile, and The Me
By Jonathan Sellars
I’ve mixed a crocodile and a hippo, and it’s really caused a fuss,
Because is it called a Hicodile, or a Crocopotamus?
A Crippo or a Hippoc? Which name should I use?
With oh so many choices, it’s oh so hard to choose.
“It’s got to start with hippo,” the hippos have proclaimed.
“The Hippocrocoditomus, that’s what it must be named.”
But the crocodiles have snapped, “That’s completely incorrect!
The Crocohippopotodile, that’s the name you must select.”
I don’t want some angry hippos, I don’t want some angry crocs,
I’m stuck between a hard place and some very rocky rocks.
So, what am I to do? There’s no solution I can see.
Unless…. I just ignored them all, and named it after me.
Pog The Pig
By Jonathan Sellars
Pog the pig was incredibly big,
But his pen was incredibly small.
Yet his owner, called Alice, whose house was a palace,
Did nothing about it at all.
For years poor Pog was a very squished hog,
Confined to the walls of that pen.
It was grimy and cramp and disgustingly damp,
Pog cried every night, until when…
A wild wind one day blew the pig pen away,
Big Pog was now homeless but free.
So he gobbled up Alice, moved into her palace,
And lived happy as happy could be.
The Tiger Trainer Trainers
By Jonathan Sellars
The tiger trainer tried to train two tigers that she’d bought,
But the tigers weren’t for training and ignored the things she taught.
They wouldn’t dance, or roar on cue, or sit upon a stage,
Instead they lumbered lazily and mooched about their cage.
The tiger trainer cracked her whip. “I’ll get those cats performing,”
But weeks went by without a sign of either cat conforming.
Until quite unexpectantly, one Tuesday afternoon,
The tigers started dancing to the tiger trainer’s tune.
They ran around and leapt through hoops, they did as they were asked,
And the tiger trainer jumped for joy. “I’ve trained those cats at last.”
Feeling proud and feeling brave she took a pound of meat
And climbed into the tigers’ cage to give them both a treat.
The tigers’ plan had worked! They both began to grin,
Then snatched the meat, ran out the cage, and locked the trainer in.
Locked in that cage still to this day you’ll find the tiger trainer,
And how to roar, and hunt, and prowl, those tigers try to train her.
The Rat-Catcher’s Cats
By Jonathan Sellars
The rat-catcher’s cats are incredibly fat,
And sit all day long on the rat-catcher’s mat.
And the rat-catcher boasts, “My rat-catcher cats
Are fat ’cos they’re good at a-catching fat rats.”
But believe it or not, and believe it you should,
At catching fat rats those cats are no good.
For the rat-catcher’s cats all prefer eating cheese
Not rats that are riddled with dreadful disease.
The cats and the rats have in fact made a pact -
By the rat-catcher’s cats will no rat be attacked.
Instead, per the deal, the rats gladly steal
A large wheel of cheese for the cats’ daily meal.
Thus, fatter each day grow the rat-catcher’s cats,
Whilst the rat-catcher boasts that her cats a-catch rats.
Roar Freedom
By Jonathan Sellars
If I broke in the zoo
Do you know what I’d do?
I’d go on an opening spree.
I’d let out the tigers, the bears, the chinchillas,
The penguins, the rhinos, the mountain gorillas,
The warthogs, the lemurs, the Bactrian camels,
The insects, the reptiles, the rest of the mammals,
And tell them, “Come on, follow me!”
Then off we would charge in a frenzied stampede,
Racing all night at a furious speed,
Down to the shores of the sea.
We’d sit on the sand where the lions would roar,
And the chimps would all dance, and the birds would all soar.
And the young would all play, and the old would all yawn,
And we’d wait for the very first light of the dawn
To watch the wild water with glee.
Then with growls and with grunts, with cawing and cries,
Each of those creatures would say their goodbyes
And explore what it means
To be free.
Raging Bill
By Jonathan Sellars
There was a bull called Raging Bill
Who lived on top of Hunters Hill.
Heart of black and eyes of red,
Daggered horns stuck out his head.
When a creature crossed his path
Bill would stamp his feet and laugh,
Then he’d charge without a care
And send them soaring through the air.
For many years the Raging Bill
Terrorised the land until...
He met the cow, No Nonsense Nelly,
Who had a very bouncy belly.
Strong and brave, staunch and tough,
Nelly thought, “Right, that’s enough.”
So when Bill tried to charge at Nelly
She swung that very bouncy belly
And without even really trying
Sent that raging bully flying
Up, up, up, and into space,
A look of shock upon his face.
Bill can now be seen near Mars,
A raging Taurus in the stars.
A Letter From His Lordship
By Jonathan Sellars
Dear Owners of Pets,
I am writing this letter
To ask you quite simply to name your pets better.
I speak on behalf of the dogs and the cats,
The fish and the rabbits, the hamsters and rats,
The birds and the snakes, For any pet who’s
Been given a name that no creature would choose.
Like Sniffer De Bum-Bum or Stucky O’Trees,
Or Fartacus Pongs or Scrog Prince of Fleas,
Or Plopplop Splashsplash or Smellsov A Loo,
Or Disco King Carrot or Poodle Del Poo,
Or Guinea McPigface or Teeny Ferocious,
What’s wrong with you people?
These names are atrocious.
Just to be clear, we want names like you,
Names such as Willie, or Ethel, or Prue.
Not Emperor Pickles or Slobberdown Chin,
Not Galactacus Miaow or Das Fourlegged Bin.
This isn’t a joke,
So please spread the word.
Yours,
Lord Woofles His Cuteness I Wuv You, The Third
Life’s Not Fairy
By Jonathan Sellars
Us fairy’s do so much for you
But you don’t seem to care,
It’s like you think we don’t exist,
It really isn’t fair.
Each night we scrub your grimy nails
And trim your hairy toes,
Then hoover up your ear wax
And the snot that’s in your nose.
We take away your baby teeth
And leave some coins behind,
We even clear your bottoms
Of the awful smells we find.
Yet do we get a thank you?
Or a nicely written card?
No! You give us nothing
Even though we work so hard.
And so we’ve all decided
That tonight when you’re asleep,
We’re going to use our fairy dust
To turn you all to sheep.
BAAAA
The Cats Of Kathmandu
By Jonathan Sellars
“There’s nothing that us cats can’t do!”
Boast the cats of Kathmandu.
“We’ve learnt to juggle, mastered skis,
Crossed the deserts, swum the seas,
Climbed the highest mountains peaks,
Held our breath for fifteen weeks,
Solved all mysteries, stopped all crime,
Plus travelled through both space and time.”
Now, you might call those cats dumfounding,
Awe-inspiring, quite astounding,
Marvels, wonders, real high-fliers,
But me,
I call them one thing,
Liars!
We Weevils, We Evil
By Jonathan Sellars
I am a weevil,
And yes, I am evil,
We all are, the clue’s in our name.
We’re schemers, we’re plotters,
We’re micro-sized rotters,
Your total destruction’s our aim.
Resist if you choose
But trust me you’ll lose,
The battle’s already been won,
For weevils you’ll find
Outnumber mankind
By roughly two billion to one.
So heed now this warning
Your last day is dawning,
All humans, I bid you adieu.
And if this sounds evil
Remember we’re weevils,
And evil is just what we do.