Hippo Poems and Hippo Song Lyrics About Hippopotamuses

Howard the Hippo
By Vivian Gouled

Howard, the hippo,
Lives in a zoo.
He has his own room
But not much to do.
He hasn’t a book,
Or a bike, or a ball,
But a pool of his own…
That he wants most of all.

Howard, the hippo,
Can float and can swim,
Though no one has given
A lesson to him.
He stays underwater
For much of the day,
And Howard, the hippo,
Keeps happy that way!

Hippopotamus Amphibius
By John M. Burns

Much more an enormous pig than a sort of horse,
Hippo lives, as a matter of course,
Both in water—still or running, fresh or salt—
And on adjacent land, where its Gestalt
Takes fifty pounds (dry weight) of grass per night.
In human cropland, which it freely samples,
Much of what it doesn’t eat it tramples,
And signs point to a final interspecies fight.

The losing bull in an intraspecific bout
Hides wounded skin and pride in water, where,
With only eyes and nostrils out,
He surveys the scene and takes the air.

To save its skin from air as well as flood,
Hippo “sweats” thick, oily “blood.”

Hippo’s Hope
By Shel Silverstein

There once was a hippo who wanted to fly –
Fly-hi-dee, try-hi-dee, my-hi-dee-ho.
So he sewed him some wings that could flap through the sky –
Sky-hi-dee, fly-hi-dee, why-hi-dee-go.
He climbed to the top of a mountain of snow –
Snow-hi-dee, slow-hi-dee, oh-hi-dee-hoo.
With the clouds high above and the sea down below –
Where-hi-dee, there-hi-dee, scare-hi-dee-boo.

(Happy ending)
And he flipped and he flapped and he bellowed so loud –
Now-hi-dee, loud-hi-dee, proud-hi-dee-poop.
And he sailed like an eagle, off into the clouds –
High-hi-dee, fly-hi-dee, bye-hi-dee-boop.

(Unhappy ending)
And he leaped like a frog and he fell like a stone –
Stone-hi-dee, lone-hi-dee, own-hi-dee-flop.
And he crashed and he drowned and broke all his bones –
Bones-hi-dee, moans-hi-dee, groans-hi-dee-glop.

(Chicken ending)
He looked up at the sky and looked down at the sea –
Sea-hi-dee, free-hi-dee, whee-hi-dee-way.
And he turned and went home and had cookies and tea –
That’s hi-dee, all hi-dee, I have to say.

I Want A Hippopotamus For Christmas!
By John Rox

I want a hippopotamus for Christmas
Only a hippopotamus will do
Don’t want a doll, no dinky Tinker Toy
I want a hippopotamus to play with and enjoy

I want a hippopotamus for Christmas
I don’t think Santa Claus will mind, do you?
He won’t have to use our dirty chimney flue
Just bring him through the front door, that’s the easy thing to do

I can see me now on Christmas morning, creeping down the stairs
Oh what joy and what surprise when I open up my eyes
to see a hippo hero standing there

I want a hippopotamus for Christmas
Only a hippopotamus will do
No crocodiles, no rhinoceroses
I only like hippopotamuses
And hippopotamuses like me too

Mom says the hippo would eat me up, but then
Teacher says a hippo is a vegeterian

There’s lots of room for him in our two-car garage
I’d feed him there and wash him there and give him his massage
I can see me now on Christmas morning, creeping down the stairs
Oh what joy and what surprise when I open up my eyes
to see a hippo hero standing there

I want a hippopotamus for Christmas
Only a hippopotamus will do
No crocodiles or rhinoceroseses
I only like hippopotamuseses
And hippopotamuses like me too!

Recipe for a Hippopotamus Sandwich
By Shel Silverstein

A hippo sandwich is easy to make.
All you do is simply take
One slice of bread,
One slice of cake,
Some mayonnaise
One onion ring,
One hippopotamus
One piece of string,
A dash of pepper –
That ought to do it.
And now comes the problem…
Biting into it!

The Hippopotamus
By T.S. Eliot

The broad-backed hippopotamus
Rests on his belly in the mud;
Although he seems so firm to us
He is merely flesh and blood.

Flesh and blood is weak and frail,
Susceptible to nervous shock;
While the True Church can never fail
For it is based upon a rock.

The hippo’s feeble steps may err
In compassing material ends,
While the True Church need never stir
To gather in its dividends.

The ’potamus can never reach
The mango on the mango-tree;
But fruits of pomegranate and peach
Refresh the Church from over sea.

At mating time the hippo’s voice
Betrays inflexions hoarse and odd,
But every week we hear rejoice
The Church, at being one with God.

The hippopotamus’s day
Is passed in sleep; at night he hunts;
God works in a mysterious way—
The Church can sleep and feed at once.

I saw the ’potamus take wing
Ascending from the damp savannas,
And quiring angels round him sing
The praise of God, in loud hosannas.

Blood of the Lamb shall wash him clean
And him shall heavenly arms enfold,
Among the saints he shall be seen
Performing on a harp of gold.

He shall be washed as white as snow,
By all the martyr’d virgins kist,
While the True Church remains below
Wrapt in the old miasmal mist.

A Hippopotamusn’t
By J. Patrick Lewis

A hippopotamusn’t sit
On lawn chairs, stools, and rockers.
A hippopotamusn’t yawn
Directly under tightrope walkers.
A hippopotamusn’t roll
In gutters used by bowlers.
A hippopotamusn’t fail
To floss his hippopotamolars.
The awful things a hippopotamusn’t do
Are just
As important as the lawful things
A hippopotamust.

The Hippopotamus
By Anonymous

Consider the poor hippopotamus:
His life is unduly monotonous.
He lives half asleep
At the edge of the deep,
And his face is as big as his bottom is.