"katydid" poems
Soothing, sensational,
elegant as the harp,
Semblance, integument,
covering of the tarp,
Ebullient, vivacious,
precision of the mind,
Vehement, appetent,
keen & one of a kind,
Perfervid, chocolate katydid,
desirable & luscious taste,
Delectable, ambrosial,
palatable & consumed with haste,
Sybaritic, voluptuous,
enticing to the senses,
Libidinous, hedonic,
enriched untightened hinges,
Efficacious, puissant,
robust delight to the eye,
Potent, consequential,
immeasurable symbol of the sky,
Pulchritudinous, gorgeous,
magnificent as the autumn sun,
Resplendent, vivid, lustrous
as a diamond-lithographed gun,
Sympathetic, affectionate,
condoling soul of a angel,
Altruistic, benignant,
warmhearted with no mangle,
Serenity, tranquility,
composure of divine peace,
Harmonious, amicable,
placid as the slow moving creek...
Jul 6, 2012
Jul 6, 2012 at 6:46 PM UTC
I stood on the ledge of my sleepy blue sorrow
back from the edge, guess I'll see you tomorrow
can't lie, not the first time I'm thinking of you
but the night bugs are out, life's distractions will do
I looked to the west as the day slowly faydeedid
turned up the volume of cricket and katydid
rhythm rubs life in the darkness outside
steer clear of the blue light or get yourself fried
With the zapper you took out the skeeters and flies
while spiders and ants faced the raider's demise
yellow jackets and wasps, you chased from their hives,
but these night bugs are here for the rest of our lives
bittersweet bugs for the rest of our lives
Back in the house now, I roll down the screen
protecting myself from the lurking unseen
from the critters, which drawn by the lure of the light
make feast in their famine on food, flesh and fright
we handle the things that intrude in our spaces
the bugs in the dark and the unwanted faces
we roll down the screens and we listen to voices
those sweet summer sounds, and this night bug rejoices
With the zapper you took out the skeeters and flies
while spiders and ants faced the raider's demise
yellow jackets and wasps, you chased from their hives,
but these night bugs are here for the rest of our lives
too many months have passed without hearing
the music which blends with the night bugs I'm fearing
I nearly lost hope for those sounds in my life
but these night bugs revive good ol' summertime strife
bittersweet bugs, for the rest of my life
Stood on the ledge of my sleepy blue sorrow
back from the edge, guess I'll see you tomorrow
Dec 30, 2015
Dec 30, 2015 at 1:14 PM UTC
Stood on the ledge of my sleepy blue sorrow
back from the edge, guess I'll see you tomorrow
can't lie, not the first time I'm thinking of you
but the night bugs are out, life's distractions will do
I looked to the west as the day slowly fadyded
turned up the volume of cricket and katydid
rhythm rubs life in the darkness outside
steer clear of the blue light or get yourself fried
With the zapper you took out the skeeters and flies
while spiders and ants faced the raider's demise
yellow jackets and wasps, you chased from their hives,
but these night bugs are here for the rest of our lives
bittersweet bugs for the rest of our lives
Back in the house now, I roll down the screen
protecting myself from the lurking unseen
from the critters, which drawn by the lure of the light
make feast in their famine on food, flesh and fright
we handle the things that intrude in our spaces
the bugs in the dark and the unwanted faces
we roll down the screens and we listen to voices
those sweet summer sounds, and this night bug rejoices
With the zapper you took out the skeeters and flies
while spiders and ants faced the raider's demise
yellow jackets and wasps, you chased from their hives,
but these night bugs are here for the rest of our lives
too many months have passed without hearing
the music which blends with the night bugs I'm fearing
I nearly lost hope for those sounds in my life
but these night bugs revive good ol' summertime strife
bittersweet bugs, for the rest of my life
Stood on the ledge of my sleepy blue sorrow
back from the edge, guess I'll see you tomorrow
Oct 4, 2014
Oct 4, 2014 at 5:53 PM UTC
The first smooch kiss
A spring night
Moonlit pastoral lake
Dancing elm, oak, and pear
Mild breeze
Courting song of crickets and katydid
Secrecy and silence
Standing close, smiling, and stirring
Our necks tilted on the right
One hand behind and one front
Thumbs caressing the face
And fingers
releasing the locks of your hair
Our hands massaging behind and front
The adorable landscape of love
Bump and *******
Belly and waist
Crossed legs
Delirious smell of the skin
Taste of your rosy lips and sweet saliva
The taste of one another
Outer eyes closed, inner open
My upper lip between your lips
Your lower lip between mine
Rubbing, pressing, ******* kissing
Small and big, short and long
Goose bumps and blushing
Breathtaking, timelessness, breathless
Uncaptured, indefinable moment!
Jan 1, 2015
Jan 1, 2015 at 12:42 PM UTC
What the hell is a katydid?
Is it near where the carotid is hid?
And, is there a reason we need
To know whatever Katy did?
Why does macaroni have an elbow?
This sounds to me a lot like a phony.
And how far back and forward does it go?
Really? Anthropomorphized macaroni?
What kind of person puts a bra on a car?
I mean, the entire idea is a bit bizarre,
One of the silliest I have heard of so far.
Does anyone know what automoboobies are?
Can people play poker with potato chips?
Maybe they’ll up the ante with avocado dip?
Then Vegas would not be such a wise trip.
Gives a new meaning to being ‘in the chips’.
Who gets to legally use a homophone?
And can anyone properly use it alone?
Since we no longer dial, why dial tone?
Some of this stuff if from the Twilight Zone.
Political parties don’t seem to be fun,
Not even for the lucky ones that won.
It must mean something that people run
But they look like something to run from.
Why would anybody put money into a kitty.
What is the matter that they have no pity?
After all, most kitties are way itty bitty.
So, stop putting money into a poor kitty!
And this putting on the dog stuff annoys.
It sounds like the game of bratty boys;
They finally get old enough to ignore toys
And play word games on a dog. Oh joy!
And what does it mean to horse around?
Is it the pantomime horse worn by clowns?
It can’t be the kind of horse one rides around?
That kind might trample a fool into the ground.
Nov 4, 2015
Nov 4, 2015 at 6:48 PM UTC
Katydid, dear katydid
Your wings unbroken
Whole, but unusable
All scrunched up
Like a terrible essay
Or the tenth draft of
A love letter
Tossed aside
All crumpled up
Because of how you
Backed yourself into a corner
Hidden amongst tendrils
And strands of grass
And weeds pressed into
Place in a synthetic
Prison-turned-hospital
You hide and change
Your skin, stripping it away
To be subtly reborn
May 8, 2013
May 8, 2013 at 2:09 PM UTC
The first calls of the katydid
It's a mystical affair
One that marks the summer
and swells through the air
Like a thousand tiny whispers
forming one booming voice
So nice to hear the summer night
Embrace the stars and rejoice.
Sticky humid evenings
where the ceiling fans hum
and the moths dance around the bare bulbs
and my eyelids start to strum
It's a wondrous cacophony
of love, of muse, of hope
One I could not describe to you
The sheer inhuman scope
I am a girl of two lives
One tortured, one free
Somewhere between rich wilderness
and a fairylit city
And you can always join me
If you're ready for the ride.
In an odyssey of summers
where night and dreams collide
The sleepy call of firelight
It crackles through the gloom
Lights our eyes rich amber
as they reflect the golden plumes
If I could spend every night
in the company of friends
A novel or a notebook
What comfort that they lend
Some days I live for Summer
And anxiety's reprieve
Where all my worldly troubles
pack up and take their leave
And dash off on the frost
scattering to leave the room
Until next September
but that won't be coming soon
If you would like to join me
You can always find me here
I want to lend you my hand
I want to lend you my ear
I'll always be there
when you need someone near
Cause I've been there
And I'm here, I'm alright
And if I can make it, you can
Just wait for the summer nights
Jun 21, 2013
Jun 21, 2013 at 7:43 PM UTC
Katydid lover, your ******* form
slips nightly into my bed,
rubbing my limbs with a love song.
A waterlily corolla my pillow,
and you, the charm of a colibris,
drinking from my *******
You lift my gown of gauzy film,
my wings emerging from
webbed sleeves, spider legs
from mist-net stockings.
Then, suddenly, we’re together,
held in this sticky, perfumed cloud,
hoping the rain will never wash us apart.
Mar 27, 2019
Mar 27, 2019 at 6:03 AM UTC
the full Moon winks , gives the thumbs up ,
the stars cross their fingers and wish good luck ..
the kind Oaks sway , hoping for the best ,
a katydid plays a diddy about the day we met ..
a steady pulse of rhythm courtesy of a musical Bullfrog
a fastidious , tuxedo wearing cricket pulls out his violin ,
plays a beautiful Italian love song ...
Jan 25, 2016
Jan 25, 2016 at 3:10 PM UTC
*At the reluctant transition of the daystar
Where lantern flies tote the account of murk admitting through Oak quarter
The colored palette of Dusk swallowed by the curve of the Earth
Umber tree line , audial aberrations , the fervor of burgeoning , multitudinous songs before ebony companion Venus
Dove coo , Katydid trill , Mosquito hum trios
Bobwhite Quail give thanks to the dying day , as
reverberating odes do carry from blackened palmettos* ...
Aug 23, 2016
Aug 23, 2016 at 7:54 PM UTC
*Painted turtles sunbathe the muddy waters of Towaliga Creek , 'Flathead Cat' roll it's mysterious surface in the devilish heat
Summertime Carp confused in the stagnant , turbid abyss appear prior to sunset , Blue Heron and raptors of every lineage pay homage to 'Creek Hunter' kindred spirits
Bass explode in the Cattail brush , Pileated Woodpeckers tap adieu to the Katydid chorus
Brown Owls call downstream in the night music symphony
Instruments that sound with increasing intensity*
Jul 18, 2016
Jul 18, 2016 at 2:32 PM UTC
This September katydid has found home on shelves in our dining room.
His roommates are books,
a rock stolen from the drystone walls of Yorkshire
fossil fish,
and whatever the trilobites left
when their passing seemed almost as negligible as their presence.
Someone should tell him,
as he chirps his nights away
calling,
begging,
wanting.
Love can’t be found among heady books and artifacts
hard and enveloped
Stonily paralyzed by time
Wings may strike against eachother,
legs rub till they’re raw with heat
And that’s not what we call for either
It’s always the afterward
All of our singing in the night is for naught
When we are inevitably left
Alone and transformed into some relic of the past,
or some words someone may have spoken
then thought memorable enough to pen
A memory of melody
As a turning bird song travelling on air
spring to summer to fall
Even the birds stop their call
only the cricket is left
All of us lying down
singing until our hearts are no longer our hearts.
The song changes
The desire always remains the same.
Sep 9, 2017
Sep 9, 2017 at 9:05 AM UTC
Tree lullaby of katydid
What, other than a night, is so candid and
Still one of a kind. A simple manmade is
simple. But
She is simplicity.
Jan 2, 2017
Jan 2, 2017 at 9:18 AM UTC
*Sunday eve , feasting on 'Shepherds pie' , starry transmissions from a changing , churning southern sky ... Steeped black tea carried on the winds of tempestuous July , quietly lost in the birth of twilight
The juvenile , search light , embellished night , curious remaining songbirds
and front porch lovers
Tree frog , Katydid sonatas , apropos of the Georgia summer* ..
Jul 3, 2016
Jul 3, 2016 at 9:10 PM UTC
We were going for a walk, sea view, ocean blue.
But the tree needed cutting, can't have work on the mind.
Need to make sure that troubles left behind.
Should've done it months ago.
Ladder up.
Wires plugged.
Cutters out.
In the name of a neat garden for gorgeous nights when the sun is still bright.
Picking leaves, off The ground we dusted Wednesday dawn.
Yanking up crops crawling with harvestmen.
But wait, the holly bush needs doing too.
Should've done that days ago.
Dad does that.
As we sweep on.
Waving at friends.
Walking the wasps in the way.
They might sting.
"Don't bend, it hurts your back".
Mum says.
Advice never works.
The leaves go on.
More holly teams down.
Oh well, the journey of a thousand miles starts with one step...
Then another...
Then another...
Then another...
**** **** bang, bang.
The chainsaw wires cut.
We had those for years.
So I keep my mouth shut.
Destroyed in a millisecond.
Our cat sat as calm as Confucius
From the sidelines, onlooking our endeavours.
A kitten kicking a katydid like a kid.
Confused, but definitely not concerned.
But wait, the wild flowers need watering.
Oct 27, 2017
Oct 27, 2017 at 9:59 AM UTC