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Kamau Brathwaite wrote
That "the hurricane doesn't roar in pentameters"
And I really believed it could be true
That Caribbean hurricanes had their own cadences, their own dances :
Ida was reggae, Allen was merengue Brigitte was gwoka
David was cha cha cha and Edith was kadans rampa and Dorian calypso
All dactyls hatched instead of iambic pentameters
Out of each island Zeus 's head
Until i met the still eye of Hurricane Muse.

Muse was her nickname
Her real name was Shar
Named after shark and share and shear
and sharon,
Named after a calypso rose
Fearless except for lizards, a rose of  tiny thorns
With a taste of a stormy black coffee
Born to a dragon of Jade and a   white *** tigress
In the midst of the 1961
hurricane season.
Shar has the S of Sébastien Sally Sam Shary Sean and Sara
The H of Humberto Hanna Henri Hermine Harold and Hélène
The A of Andrea Arthur Ana Alex Arlene and Alberto
And the R of  Rebecca René Rose Richard Rina and Rafael
And she dances not only calypso
And quadrille and zouk
But a mix as well of Salsa Hustle Affranchi and Reggae
In iambic pentameters
While she gently paints fearless green lizards
Having her five iambs of coffee
First thing in the unstressed and stressed morning
Before she even opens the syllables of her still Muse eye.
Dev Aug 1
I've been attacked, chased, and charged

By cats and snakes small and large

Bitten by sharks with great white teeth

All while monsoons crashed our reef

I've attracted gorillas with my jungle musk

And fought them off with an elephants tusk

But in all the places I've been stranded

It's only cities where I can't stand it
My response to the challenge: Find the nearest book (of any kind). "Turn to page 8. Use the first ten full words on the page in a poem. You may use them in any order, anywhere in the poem.

"I've been chased by elephants, bitten by snakes, charged by Gorillas, attacked by sharks, stranded in monsoons... " - National Geographic Survival Book
Mitch Prax Jul 21
Throw me to the sharks
and let me see how the beast
inside of you thinks

6:09 PM
9/7/19
Calla Fuqua Jul 11
Your skin of teeth never scared me.
Your taste for blood begged me to come closer,
till the tip of your nose touched mine.

Now we are both hypnotized
Penelopejayde Mar 14
At the depth of night,
I stood,
You were there,
Circling,
Circling me like a shark does to their prey.
It’s always efficient to see you in person.
Swimming in deep waters away from unchartered routes is prohibited except, Ahimsa is a word of the derived quality that has now become a normative statement on the state of violence. If you travel a path you’re not sure of, you will be stuck in the crossroads of choices that all seem delusional. Let’s see how raw fish can a polite example of simple resolution to preserve the flavor of delicacy. Watch how one can believe in a delicacy of cuisine, as well as education, and a person earning a stature in modern-day culinary pilgrimages. If you cultivate a habit for chopped purple seaweed and a crimson tide of sashimi, then it is a numinous moment.
Therefore, do not be stranger to choice. Try everything. When a moment of ahimsa and a path of delicacy are considered, Sashimi is flavorful, salty and jellied in its deliciousness. Therefore, well-seasoned fish can bring pure umami in life.
Business is flourishing to in Japan with the currency going down and the people in a myriad of bars explore a sundry of choices of whether to drink or eat. Sushi and sashimi have become cultural to Japanese cuisine and are served as with a plate of honesty and solid craftsmanship. Japanese take pride in their food and as a result, their food is in a very intricate fashion linked to their illustrious culture. The dresses are black with strobe lights. She claps and the colorful atmosphere lights and she realizes something. A hurt ego is like a hurt heart. She forgives and continues to eat the delicate fish to her fill.
An essay on ahimsa with shark meat
Em MacKenzie Dec 2018
I’m straining my arms and I’m pulling my shoulders,
from pushing each line and carrying our shared boulders.
And my hands are burned and skin’s scraped,
knuckles cracked and broken fingertips,
a few careless words escaped
and I wished to push them back behind my lips.

I’ve got the motor warm and running,
and the waves have settled as they should,
I write down just how I find you stunning,
I would voice it if I only could.

You ask if I’m confident and I tell you I don’t know,
can I make an impossible jump,
oh holy Holly, I don’t think so.
I’m no Henry, no Fonz, no Winkler,
I’m not a stunt performer on T.V,
I barely run through the sprinkler,
I sure as hell will find death in the sea.

The rope’s as tight as a fresh noose,
and my ski’s barely fit my bottom soles,
my hands are clenched just too loose,
I would prefer to be sleeping on coals.
The crowd’s cheers become a lashing,
blood dissolved into the water and salt,
an angry tail’s now thrashing,
my situation is entirely my own fault.

I’m jumping the shark,
without a trial run.
Leaving an infamous mark,
just before it’s all done.
I’m jumping the shark,
it’s the end to my character arc.
I’m jumping the shark,
desperation has never stood so stark.

I’ve glimpsed shadowed empty sets
and walked among great ruins,
I’m tired of swimming in regrets,
pretty please, can I hide in your flesh wounds?
I’ve been taking theatre classes
to act like I’m not terribly bothered,
but every beach goer casually passes,
my body that’s been brutally slaughtered.

I want to feel the water the way that I once did,
with carefree wonder like when I was a kid.
But I always hated the sand, and the way that it encased my toes,
but they’re calling me to set to stand, to see how this final shot goes.

The hoop is placed ontop of a mild wave,
I wish that they engulfed it first in flame,
they praise me for being so brave
but it’s I, not the shark, that is tame.
They’re calling out the term “action”
and I look for my highlighted script,
I only read a small fraction
before I thought it best to rip.

I’m jumping the shark,
without a trial run.
Leaving an infamous mark,
just before it’s all done.
I’m jumping the shark,
it’s the end to my character arc.
I’m jumping the shark,
cut camera and roll credits in the dark.
Rebecca Nov 2018
We are afraid that there is nothing.
We are afraid that there is something beyond, even we cannot know it and so squash it into a box.
We are afraid that cats will scratch out our eyes and someone will release a wild fox into the house letting it scream intensely like the sound of torture.
We are afraid of the deep, dark ocean, that it will eat us whole and a megalodon will slow motion leap from the deep to swallow us in totality and to be followed by a ship wrecking kraken that will cover an island and make us pay for our sins.
We are afraid of God, that he is mad, that he is angry, that he does not approve, that he isn't really there, that he doesn't have a plan for us, that he gave up on us and our disgusting lives and terrible choices that bring ultimate self-destruction.
We are afraid of spiders.
We are afraid of the house setting alight whilst nobody is home and the neighbours hate us so much they stand in their front gardens and watch it burn and only then calling the fire brigade when ash starts to affect their own space, their own environment, and they'll complain till the cows come home about "what an inconvenience all this has been", how it has made them late, how the fire engine has blocked off the road so Saturday shopping will have to wait a bit longer. And they hate us, they hate us, they hate us.
Their dog ***** in our garden. It ***** on our grave.
Luke Kennard, a brilliant poet and lecturer on creative writing, was a guest speaker in my class today. We were asked to write a poem inspired by Jennifer Knox's "We are afraid" and list our fears but make them deeply personal, unique and honest with a continuous flow. Focusing on Shakespeare's Fool character and how they reveal universal and personal truths, often to unpopular opinion or embarrassment.
Anya Oct 2018
Today,
I asked my little brother
why he bought
the tape white out
and,
not the liquid
one
...
...
...
...
Apparently,
the length of two whole
strips of white out
matches the size
of a Megalodon
A shark
from
two million
years
ago
...
...
...
...
...
Huh
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