A cranky old guy from Down Under
Tried to pull Loren’s verse quite asunder
A young man from Maine
Was first probably to blame
And his strange rhyming name was “iambarr” . . .

Though you lurk in the woods
surrounded by trees
my heart yearns to walk with thee.

To bask in your knowledge, see what you see
to throw the stones, to break the trees
to run here and there, though rarely seen
to cause panic and awe in those who know not what we mean.

To thrive from the Oregon mountains to the coast of Maine
from the swamps in Florida to the Oklahoma plains
To guide new explorations, to transpire indignation
To become the object of Lauren’s infatuation

So here me now, as I long for signs of thee
Throw a stone, or maybe break a tree for me.
Though we may never meet, for the I will search
Until the nightwatchman covers me in dirt.

J-

I am not the best poet myself. But hey! Everyone else was doing it.

My mom always said that defense would get me in trouble.

Indeed, all who come visit are welcomed guests. You behaved yourself, as a gentleman, despite any state (other than Maine), of which you may have found yourself in. You did not show it at the ICM.

I tend to agree that love is one of the most mysterious of the mysteries around.

despite my altered state, it was pretty fantastic to meet you yesterday. had a lot on my mind that didn’t exactly fall into the “crypto” category. i left your museum, walked around, continued thinking, and eventually my thoughts all meshed together. when i got home, i felt a little creative so i threw some words out. mostly they came from wondering what would have happened if i had walked in and demanded that you explain the truly inexplicable to me.

my only hope is that nothing offended you and that i was polite and coherent when i spoke to you. your museum is amazing and you’re an interesting person. i promise to return when i’ve finished your book..

chris

Cadborosaurus
Elusive nightmare of old
in the lake’s black depths

Jersey Devil’s voice
Unheard as he leaps away
Wings scraping the night

Loch Ness is its home
Sinuosity unseen
Except for the few

Hair covered man beast
So silent in the forest
Oh that I could see

Extinct tiger wolf
Trying to stay out of sight
Did we kill them all?

Leatherwing nightmare
Soaring from the ancient skies
Into our grey air

A cryptic haiku
Mystic prose for those who know
We all seek answers

Aussie native ‘roos
Roam safely in the outback
In Wisconsin too

Slithering patterns
Entwine unsuspecting prey
impossibly large

Felids from nowhere
Prowl the moors, then disappear
Shadows in the shrubs

Carnivorous Nights
A Tasmanian Tiger
Alive in our minds

Living animals
Enticing the researchers
Hiding from us all

Simple!

“Me-Teh Weeping” by Loren Coleman

Not white, not alone
The abominable one
Yeti here, then gone

(April 10, 2006)

and

“Here, Not There” by Loren Coleman

Thylacine, not seen
Don’t look in Tasmania
Search west Australia

(April 12, 2006)

“Carnivore”
Breath hot and meaty
Carnivore stalks for dinner
Smug little turnips

“Ceolcanth 1″
Extant old fish
Swimming past extinction
Living, breathing fossils

“Urban Runoff”
Silted river dies
Mono-crop farming continues
Future goes thirsty

Aaron