"clownfish" poems
buzzzzzzz
The bus engine idles
Intensifying the hammering of little gnomes
On my skull
Their tin mallets **** dinking* incessantly
Throbbing
Painful numb as waves crash to escape
The confines of my head
A small clownfish throwing his tiny body
Against the walls again
And again
And again
ba-dump ba-dump ba-dump
The bus hits three large bumps in a row
Jostling and jolting me into excruciating confusion
So tired and so alert
Drifting off to consciousness
I have got to escape this headache...
Nov 1, 2012
Nov 1, 2012 at 3:02 PM UTC
Today, I am among the half-dead again
Wandering the halls with a gaze that could disintegrate the sun
The world around me is painted in an elephant grey
But this safari feels empty and yet so congested
With a smile that’s been sloppily and gruelingly painted on,
I face the challenges of everyday life once more
Half of me is tuned in to the things around me,
Scribbling words and deciphering the text at a snail’s pace
But the other half is still dreaming,
Waging war against the strongest mages of our time
Or drowning among a school of clownfish
Either way I’m not here and I’m begging to be free
Today, I am among the half-dead again
I imagine that someday a dragon will take me away
This may simply be my dreaming side taking over again
But if I said it could burn away all my worries,
Wouldn’t you wish for that as well?
I would hop onto its scaly back and point towards the sky,
Chanting as if I had been rehearsing for this moment,
“Anywhere is fine, as long as it’s not here”
But until then, I am drenched in my own rain
And the smile has run off with it, off to somewhere far away
Today, I am among the half-dead again
With weights tightly chained to my fingers
I’m dragging my thoughts along with my spirit
I’m a little bit tired but maybe if I wait, tomorrow will be a much better day
Feb 25, 2015
Feb 25, 2015 at 11:07 AM UTC
Schools of fish
Racing to the King's submerged hold
To pass a collective wish.
A procession led
Unfathomable leagues between the sky
To the One's bed.
From her birthcry rang
Sonic upon waves in all Seas
Bringing promise she sang.
In a voice that shamed
The very Sirens, their infamy
At birth she had tamed.
Tempests brewed in
Nine Seas and in denizens thereof
The palpable rush was no illusion.
Gargantuan fissures marked
The arrival of the Prophet,
As Dogfishes in the streets barked.
Coral caves echoed
News of the Deliverer
Back across the ocean and forth.
The Princess is birthed!
Rejoice! Swim to the King!
Of enthusiasm, was no dearth.
Millions of clans
Puffer, Cat and Gold, with servants in many
***** Oysters and Clams.
Eels, flying overhead
With Mantas in quick pursuit
Each racing to meet the beloved.
The nobility too was en route
Great White, the Hammer and Tiger
Forgetting around them, all the food.
Clownfish prepared their jokes
Animatedly chuckling at the time
The king called them funny blokes.
From every nook and corner
Of every Ocean, and Sea
Burst life even in lakes and rivers.
Drifting slow yet steady
The convergence occurred at the King's Hold.
The feast now ready.
Reef and plankton
In a million hues waved like banners
Proclaiming the royal standard.
Seahorses stood en garde
All semblance of a heavy cavalry
Songs were sung by the Bard.
Rows upon rows
Of aquatic subjects
Gazed upwards as the Herald bellowed.
All hail King Teal!
All hail the Princess!
The citizens went mad with zeal.
They raised their arms
As the King raised his own pair
Only to raise alarm.
The babe was godly
Hair as green as kelp
Translucent flesh glowing boldly.
Every colour ever known
Etched across her fins and legs
Majestic, regal, radiating joy unknownst.
Tears diluted the currents
As the folk witnessed their saviour
And cheered in a torrent
Of squeals, laughter and shouts
Praising till the land dwellers heard them
These fanatics most devout.
Thus was the day
Naifin was born into the Sea
Queen of Oceans, she was to be.
Jan 6, 2016
Jan 6, 2016 at 12:41 PM UTC
Reverie remember me
Dreams like penitentiary
And they just won’t let me go
It’s my ego, it’s montego bay
It’s hard to say like “anemone”
Another day another Hennessy
and i’m drowning away
Craving useless euphemisms, i’m still lost at sea
Haunted by consumerism, the ghost of Ronnie McD,
Mr. Clown meet mr. Clownfish
Mr. Marty lost his son
So i ain’t the only one actively and theatrically
looking for “no one”
Feb 28, 2019
Feb 28, 2019 at 12:26 PM UTC
If wishes were horses, this baby prince would ride,
to cloud-cuckoo land with chocolates on side.
Would pierce the balloon-like moon-bag
with my magic stick,
bathing in twinkling stars slipping
from busted moon.
If wishes were cakes, this cherub would eat,
to fill the little tummy with tons and tons of sweet.
Would sit inside the angel’s kitchenette
and swallow all the cheese,
chewing all the crispy cookies
even without any teeth.
If wishes were ocean, this baby prince would swim,
to mermaid -fairy land, too deep with princess Kim.
Would rest on the bed of soft and fluffy coral reef,
dreaming of the earthly lands, flower and green leaf.
If wishes were games, this baby prince would bounce,
to touch the ocean bed from surface on green ground.
Would play hide and seek with salmon and clownfish,
piggybacking the seahorse and accomplish each wish.
Sep 9, 2015
Sep 9, 2015 at 4:44 AM UTC
Once upon a neverworld, the lights shimmer down through the porthole into the damp abyss and bring life back to a distant memory of a dream. Breathing life back in to this solemn place where the clownfish struggle to tell a joke, the bottom eaters are frozen still, and the desolate skeleton bears no emotion. You reach in for a bountiful treasure and find that it was not the gold or dabloons as the stories implied. The treasure lies in the beauty of the lost souls found here, a dream crashed by fate and left as a reminder that even through darkest times and left in the darkest places our soul story will live on for centuries. So long as someone decides to turn the page.
Dec 5, 2019
Dec 5, 2019 at 7:01 PM UTC
It is the char on a marshmallow after being held over a fire; it tastes better than it looks.
It is the asphalt after the rain; it smells better than it feels on bare skin.
It is an optical illusion; it’s hard to identify at first, but once you do you can’t unsee it.
It is the difference between bourbon and cheap ***** a choice between quality and quantity to get the same job done.
It is an anemone protecting a clownfish; it’ll sting whatever tries to enter without the clownfish’s permission.
It is what I am after everything I’ve been through...
Each item is not sold separately; if you want one you buy the whole set.
Sep 14, 2018
Sep 14, 2018 at 3:29 AM UTC
Octopus
I will always love you the way I did before
Before your love became a constraint against time and my freedom was traded for immortality
Before I became lobotomized, my decisions were no longer made.
Before you threw me over yonder with no answer to my only question
Why?
Why did your love send me into disarray and suffocate me in corrosive liquid? My pained grunts were ignored as you smothered me with kisses.
When did hugs become tests for how much my body can handle?
Hugging me tighter despite my bones cracking under pressure, I took your sweet love and swallowed it whole, hoping that it meant you couldn’t let go. You never did; you took me as a captive and slung me into the field of love.
Love was so intense that it pierced my skin. My blood bled into the ocean of pain and agony.
I no longer feel shame because when I am with you, my only waking thought is
Is it the end?
You are my ringed octopus, and I am your captive clownfish, the cheese in your trap, the fly in your Venus flytrap and the nectar in your rose.
You wanted me, you loved me, you adored me, you used me, you suffocated me.
You killed me
To die loving you was a feat that grew honourable.
To die being loved by you was a feat that grew impossible.
To die with love. It was a feat I didn’t know.
Jun 22, 2024
Jun 22, 2024 at 6:56 PM UTC