What Does the Fox Say (Video Performance)

"What Does the Fox Say" is a song sung by a group named "Ylvis." The poem and video posted here are inspired by that original song. The background music in the video above is the instrumental version of the song, and the last few seconds of the video posted here is a recording of a part of the original song. See these links for the full video versions.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jofNR_WkoCE
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-tDT_3H1wAo

The images used in the video posted here were from:
http://geoffery10.deviantart.com/art/What-Does-the-Fox-Say-Transparent-410500631
https://pgcpsmess.files.wordpress.com/2014/04/fox-running.jpg.

The animated video clips were made via YouCam, and all of the music, images, and video clips were compiled via Movie Maker.

Hanging by a Thread (Edited)

She wraps her palms around my neck,

Twists her torso, carving a space for me,

I hold the swing, steady we sway,

Tangled bodies, we hang there.

Soft breeze brushes our lips,

The sun embraces us-

Threads tie us to one another,

Easily broken, yet easily retied.

The threads of her clothes beg to be torn,

I acquiesce,

Ready to explore the wrinkles in her buttery skin,

Then, I piece the threads back together.

I lose myself in the crinkled waves in her hair.

Inhale the sweet, fruity shampoo

Falling into a blissful abyss,

Hanging by her hair- and wanting to stay there.

These moments that we grasp with all our strength.

Because- as time surges forward,

A tidal wave in calm lake,

We can only thread through time,

Ignoring everything around us. 

What Does the Fox Say? (Edited Villanelle -style format)*

I hear the sounds but cannot convey
Is that a screech, a bleep, a tweek?
I ask around hopefully- "What does the fox say?"

No one knows or no one can portray,
Even Google has held her peace,
Yet, there must be a sound that we cannot convey.

I toss and turn at night, and ponder throughout the day-
I worry about this question- I will continue to seek
I resume my search- "What does the fox say?"

Maybe Dora can help, her friendship with him might give her some sway,
But Swiper is honest to being a sneak.
We hear his voice but the sound we cannot convey.

Perhaps the media has some information to relate,

Fox News- you lost your chance to avoid critique.
I am alone in my quest for "What does the fox say?"

I have reached my wits and choose a different way-
I ask the fox himself, still knowing the odds are bleak.
I hear a response, but I cannot convey
"What does the fox say?"

www.cartoonwatcher.com

*This line and the general idea of this poem is inspired by the song "What Does the Fox Say?"

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jofNR_WkoCE

*This line and the general idea of this poem is inspired by the song "What Does the Fox Say?"

What Does the Fox Say*

I hear the sounds but cannot convey
Is that a screech, a bleep, a tweek?
I ask around hopefully- "What exactly does the fox say?"

No one knows or no one can speak,
Even Google has held her peace,
Yet, there must be a sound that we cannot convey.

I toss and turn at night, and though I hear my bed squeak-
I worry about this question- I will continue to seek
I resume my search- "What does the fox say?"

Maybe Dora can help, since she knows he's discreet,
But Swiper is honest to being a sneak.
We hear his voice but the sound we cannot convey.

Republican or not, perhaps the media has some information to leak,
Fox News- you lost your chance to avoid critique.
I am alone in my quest for "What does the fox say?"

I have reached my wits and change my technique-
I ask the fox himself, still knowing the odds are bleak.
I hear a response, but I cannot convey
"What exactly does the fox say?"

*This line and the general idea of this poem is inspired by the song "What Does the Fox Say?"
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jofNR_WkoCE

עם ישראל חי

Oh, so proudly gleaming, at dawn light.

In Zion, with Zion, toward Zion, heart yearning in Zion.

O, with thy love thee see all true love.

* This short "cut up" poem is a combination of words chosen from three national anthems. These words are chosen from a very specific pattern of the words עם ישראל חי, which mean "The nation of Israel is still alive." Each of the letters in this verse is accorded the number of its position in the Hebrew alphabet. In each of the national anthems, words are counted according to these numbers and then positioned according to the author's discretion. The first line corresponds to the American national anthem; the second the Israeli national anthem; the third the Canadian national anthem. All these countries represent the author's allegiances. 

Note: the author used her discretion in repeating or not repeating words chosen according to the pattern.

י	ח	ל	א	ר	ש	י	ם	ע
10	8	12	1	20	21	10	13	16

The Grass is Always Greener (Updated)

Father mowed the lawn on Sundays

He’d cast off his shirt and laugh

As shreds of grass landed on his eyebrows

Brother would chase the crazed machine

Imitating its spitting sounds.

Mother and I would squeeze fresh lemonade

To hydrate the boys

Smiling, she’d dance across the lawn

And gracefully settle the tray on a bench

Blowing the boys kisses.

Father says he is proud of brother

And brother will make a strong man

Like father.

Mother pats my head 

And thanks me for my help.

Once I too tried to bring the lawnmower to life

It merely chortled at me and refused to move

Father had pity- and settled me on his lap

Sticky palms gripping the wheel,

Showing father that I can also be like him.

Lemonade forgot to appear on the bench

I saw mother peering through the window.

Father sometimes needs help in the garage

But only when brother isn’t there

I gallop at the idea of escaping the heat of the kitchen

I prefer even the dustiness of the garage. 

I sew myself a pair of overalls, 

And watch father and brother pounding with their tools

Maybe my turn to help is next?

But mother catches me wasting time and set me off to mix bread. 

"Am I not strong enough to help them?" I ask

Mother shakes her head

Wondering why-

Why I need to be different.

Nighttime in Tel Aviv

Not even 9 pm,

Yet the darkness of these filthy streets

Is palpable.

How many men are skulking in the shadows-

Peering through the smoke-filled air,

To find pretty girls like us?

We are walking alone,

Veiling our fear.

Outnumbered by men,

Who are hungry for

The taste of our lips

And the smell of our hair.

Struggling to appear

Both strong and invisible

Casting cautious glances

For someone safe.

He looks at us curiously

Understanding our distress.

Only unfortunate girls come here,

Leaving in shame

High heels, make-up, and heavier wallets

We too do not belong here.

Didn’t we pass this grimy hamburger stand minutes ago?

The man gestures in the direction we came from

He whispers good luck,

We retrace our steps.

Silence except for the fierce beating in our chests,

Adrenaline charging through our veins,

Creating an unexpected thrill

Which ends soon-

We have arrived at the bus station.