"larva" poems
5
a
e r
y s
since I joined hello
a larva with a torn soul
Clinging to Whatever's left of life
since I started scratching for light
Peeking at the deeming tunnel
but still hoping
since I started dinning with poets
eating haiku in the morning
drinking sonnet in the afternoon
feeling the aching agony of the broken in the evening
falling in love with the dreamers at night
Since my heart was pounded
wrecked and left with unspeakable pain
Since Born was birthed
a crawling character that was literally dying
but still screaming for hope, love and dream
Since Ismael Ibrahim aka Born
stopped existing
and started living
Jan 3, 2018
Jan 3, 2018 at 10:47 AM UTC
your forest’s architecture
verdant in spots, and then a stump
did the dead leaves ever have a heart beat
what made the ballad stop, was it sun?
little larva squirming towards a moon
and their mama maggots weep –
to lose a child, to lose a child
when death-creatures want to be
an astronaut, the green canopies are bars
prosper in the centipede teeth munch
fertilizer for a final seed
without vertebrae they climb over stars
& leave your forest’s architecture
crumbling for buzzards.
Oct 27, 2012
Oct 27, 2012 at 9:16 PM UTC
I told you not to pardon me
cause I couldn't let you count on me
but you put every bet on me against all odds...
I told you to hide your soul
instead you gave me heart mind and all
I told you I was a thorny road
you walked it bare footed
wincing at every *****
believing that right ahead things would change...
I told you I was a broken Eagle
but you believed you could fix my wings
I was a volcano waiting to erupt
you wasn't afraid of the larva, thought you could adapt
I told you I was splinters
and you started picking up the pieces
I told you I was hell
and you said you wanted to dance with my demons
When I revealed that I knew not how to dance
you said life's a lesson and you would be my teacher
"What if the song of our affection ends?"
I questioned with the belief that love's just a word
but you assured me that we would keep dancing
even after the song's gone silent...
because that's what real love's do
or at least we would dance until you found all the shards.
I told you I was a labyrinthine jungle
and you right away took adventures in my wild
even when I told you I was a wrecked ship lost at sea
you said that'd you'd find me free from the ecstasy
of this perilous world...
I told you I was a desert ...
but you were okay with sand and sweat
even thirst didn't scare you away
I told you I was a thunder-storm waiting to rain
malady and you said you've known such kind of pain,
you've withered storms that left you Ocean wet
so it wouldn't hurt playing in the rain again...
I said I was a wilting rose
and right away you started watering my hopes
with tender sprinkles of care
and weeding out despair
with endless promises to always be there...
I told you I was frozen inside and incapable of loving
and you said you'd place me in your warm embrace
and bare the icy chill for eternity
if that's what it took to melt the snow...
I told you I was all wounds and painful scars
you responded with "I know..."
and you said even Angels are not perfect...
I told you I had nothing but me to give
and you told me I was everything you always wanted
I tried not to believe
but I was enchanted...
I said I loved you not because you said it too
or because I ran out of excuses
but because it was true...
and because I was tired of pushing away
those gifting me a second chance...
Feb 3, 2017
Feb 3, 2017 at 3:08 PM UTC
You reached my heart
Much like a worm
Crawled through inches
Of insecurity and flesh
Till you reached that
Precious pink sac
You stuffed it full with your
Disgustingly masculine company
Slimy wiles and wriggly larva
The size of my thumbs
Then once I was
Suitably contaminated
You pierced it
Without a drop of remorse
Maggots and sludge
Emotions and memories
Burst and
Spatter across
My ******* and neck
You made your presence
Well known in my
Dying and infected carcass
Aug 14, 2012
Aug 14, 2012 at 6:46 PM UTC
Started off in the [clouds]
and after falling and crashing down,
touched the roots of a redwood.
Now with the help of giraffes
I scale it's back as I'm looking
to climb my way up the trunk.
Branch after branch,
contact causing
**** hoping no one
stops my conquest
and burns this tree to ash.
Talking to fauna,
birds chirp, to attempt
continuing this saga,
after she left I reduced to
nothing but a larva, as I now
undergo the metamorphosis,
similar to that of Kafka's.
Trauma induces this
determination, of being reunited
in clouds with her creation,
and if up there nothing for me
is waiting, then abort mission,
swing towards a new notion,
and from the the clouds
I'm perched upon, jump
and plummet into the [ocean].
25 hours pass before
the tip of the tree is reached
and as the sun rises, I realize
I'm above the horizon and
on clouds perched I instantly
recognize the eyes hidden
under eyelids.
Finally we've met again,
tragic ending as I reach for
her to grab my hand.
Unstably standing on this branch
and as she hands me hers, she
retreats and pulls back.
Slipping, she let me fall
and midair I hear my heart
crack, falling thousands of feet,
I'm thinking of the love she couldn't
keep, and before the impact a thought passes my head; so honest.
Humans like myself, too ambitious in their conquest,
meant to stay at trunk of trees, and clouds, strictly homes for a goddess.
Dec 2, 2013
Dec 2, 2013 at 2:51 PM UTC
Somehow you took home in me
Like a wasps larva in a caterpillars body
I was your comfort
Your shelter
While you grew stronger and stronger
Then out of the blue
I couldn't move
Your touch chemically
Paralyzed me
I gasp for air as fresh as the kind by the apple tree
In the garden
Where we met
Wounded-I protected your innocence
Feeding off your fulfillment
Untill I starved to death
Oct 6, 2014
Oct 6, 2014 at 9:44 PM UTC
My love, my love these shaky Isles
Abandoned in the vast blue seas,
Born in Mesozoic times
When sedimentary oozes ease.
From far Antarctic mountainsides
To windblown dust from Austral plain
They lay in layers thick and deep
Beneath the Tasman Sea's domain.
A thousand million years of ******
Of plate tectonic shear and drift,
Mid oceanic larva seep
Determines continental shift.
Deep magmatic plumes arise
From down within the planet's core
To burst asunder from the crust
As mountain God's volcanic lore.
Ash and larva from the vent
In pyroclastic feirce display,
Obliterate the cold blue sky
Explosively in massive way.
Rooster tails of feiry ash
And bread crust bombs cascade about
Vulcan roars his rage to all
In violent, vast, volcanic route.
Ignimbrite flows from the vent
In sheets a hundred meters deep
The incandescence, from on high,
Would, watching Angels, cause to weep.
Like quicksilver, it cloaks the land
To cover all in burning flow,
To last a million years as sheets
Of sharded rock where 'ere you go.
So the land was born of fire
And bent and twisted by the force
Of upthrust from the great, beneath
And earthquakes felt throughout, of course.
Earthquakes of unearthly fear
Wrack foundation's very base,
Sudden as the artic gale
Unpredictable to face.
So the shaky Isles were born
Here to lie in ocean's vast,
Clad in forest lush and green
Snowclad mountains, rivers fast.
Well kept cities, well kept towns
Population proud and clean,
Beauty all around is felt
Perched atop creation's dream.
So the Shaky Isles exist
Perfect in their place in time,
Perched atop subducting plates
Perched in ignorance sublime.
What's around the corner now?
Who's concerned, who really cares
For Kiwis make the best of now...
The rest remains as chance declares.
Marshalg
Celebrating a love affair with my beautiful New Zealand.
31 August 2012
Aug 30, 2012
Aug 30, 2012 at 9:32 PM UTC
The trapeze artist without
trapeze,
encased within a paper weight,
reading through eye
glasses crafted for readers
astigmatic use.
This is the mind set...... this is the end truth.......
Being is embryonic,
to become, to the pupal larva,
a new becoming, Life.
II
Quantum leaps often end in tragedy
when the time traveler ceases to travel
The sudden stop!
Rapid communication......synaptic calibration......recall all yesterdays.
blind intellect one tenth of one second 15 seconds
The dimensions split and the bicameral mind appears two lobes
right and left, inverted vision adjusted for
mythic fusion,
creating abstracted convolutions
answering to them self. A planet in a galaxy of confusion.
III
Imagination finding place in the new electronic
institution, man made synaptical illustrations
from pixilated madness.
We take from this..............an
illogical extension of our existence that makes some sense.
We make it such
that it becomes
the most told lie
we believe without questioning.
Till death we do part.
IV
As I inhale looking at my past...my last past, well
in any case the past is where I just wrote past the last time
like now PAST.
Rationalization is overrated, intellectual ************
is for the cools, and catatonic haze is a new wave drug.
It is early in a new society's evolution.....
It is late in the face of time......
ergo quantum quandary quid pro quo
Ajerry / copyright
2013
Oct 30, 2013
Oct 30, 2013 at 6:34 PM UTC
No, do dread my glance ,im Helen.
im the purest creature of rage ****
a lapse glance alas , a doom .
a dream of Luth's sealed gloom.
sinister glare of Gomorrah bright.
soured sight of sere flower blight.
im venomous kiss of sweetest lips.
deadliest breath of daughter of Rappicini.
come fair son of light and beauty.
date me with naive lurking desire.
receive my poisonous breath satire .
i will sail thee near a pestilent fountain.
im the sinister Titania and Bottom and more i contain.
behold you not with my innocent beauty .
perverse is my nature intend but my name holy.
dost cross the path to purity on mount Sinai.
cause i shall rule and Helen the offspring of my ****
is lure untamed fiend,feed her she behold with leech.
no, one of my breath is a blast to thy life to leash.
my glare is illuminated like azure Vegas.
my nectar Pompeii larva of past .
my beauty is heaven flame it charms .
come; rich, beauty ,savant and fame.
for thou dost not behold with immortal Ichor.
sip deep my breath.
and meddle you with my luring glare.
im Titania i hang over my head a dagger.
upon which thy blood stream to the Bottom.
thou thinkest to entwine me ?
no,lo King Cophetua and the beggar maid.
and my judgement hell fire .
Thebes is in rout but Capaneus bid dust.
what dost thou want ,thou Sophist ?
no the sojourn of thee is Zeus Kirma.
beset for worst as the writ Apocrypha.
come thee savant ,come thee poet.
bekneel before the sacred attire .
heaven bow before the holy Dionysus.
for we beset you with frenzy ,ecstasy, and drama.
all behold the same destiny.
but elixir yonder in Kimmerian trinity.
try not you for eternal bloom .
cause error at Achille right heel.
but Maqueros, Lazarus , and Leviticus.
all will queenly glance at our Caduceus.
behold you not my beauty.
but behold you with our Pow wow.
behold you ! say Amen RA.
Feb 27, 2015
Feb 27, 2015 at 3:00 PM UTC
You've always been fully aware of what lies
Between these thighs
You just weren't sure
If you could ever lure
Me to let you slide
Into the sweetness that they hide
Caramel or chocolate
Of late
You haven't been sure
Which one is sweeter
Than the honeycomb offered not on a plate
But hidden between my legs
The craving in your groin
Longs for a taste
You dream of my *****
Hotter than larva or fire
Burning with desire
For a deep ***********
That leaves me wetter than a summer's rain
**** my sweet nectar
Be filled to the brim, my star
Remind me of my naughtiest fantasies
As you show me all your fetishes
Grab my hips
Push them up and down
Even if the rhythm is imperfect
Plunge deep, for me that's perfect
I will hold you deep inside
Your manhood I'll hide
My lips I'll bite
Because I know I might
Not be able to hold my tongue
And let a loud scream escape my lungs
As we ride blissful waves
Drowning in beautiful escapes
Forgetting our surroundings
Until we reach the land of milk and honey
Miss Fit ⚓
Feb 9, 2023
Feb 9, 2023 at 3:48 PM UTC
It was warmer inside of the cocoon
Until the day the door cracked open
Letting in the cold
Nothing left to ravage
Nowhere but out
(C) Tiffanie Doro
Nov 15, 2013
Nov 15, 2013 at 4:33 AM UTC
Honeybeehive buzzingbuzzing,
With bustling here to there and
Careful placement of this and that
Little detailed speck: this larva to feed,
That one to clean;
All quicklydeftly done - and yellow
Drips of sweet ideas a-thrum in the hard
Wax cells in rows in walls
Of a mind or several thousand -
Several thousand little slipperies slipping
There to here, upstream swimming
Crowded fishy river to mating grounds
For thoughts:
Thoughts
Piling on one another and asphixiating
In the thought-filled water there is not enough breath
Even the strongest swimming "whatifmaybe" drowns
Under a flopping swell of scaleslimy facts.
And there am I planktondrifting
Inside under; through water rushing,
Dashing on rocks and off of rocks,
Nearly into drowning mouths a-gaping
And then in the white rapidfoaming water
Escaping.
Aug 24, 2012
Aug 24, 2012 at 12:32 PM UTC
I never told my mother I love her until my senior year,
and I have been scheduled lately to care for a dying woman,
struggling, gasping for dry misty air. Few weeks ago, I leaned
over a newborn to monitor his extrauterine adaptation, his cry for life.
I first learned from my psychiatric nursing class that recognition
is a form of therapy, an ephemeral touch to the soul, the kind that
gifts me little snacks as reward for small talks with a patient. I guess it is the
words that turn into charms. I once asked an irritable elderly woman
if she had eaten and she also asked me in return. I was liquified. My house
has never had picture frames hung up on the walls. Crumbles of loss,
torn wedding album, heartbreak in my larva years.
I feel so privileged to be saved by the sick or I may say, to view
nursing as a means of holding on to life.
Some time in my senior year, I encountered a woman, same age
as my mother, with brain aneurysm and every movement of
her head, limb, and torso hurt her. I assisted her to the bathroom,
then I introduced myself again.
Apr 6, 2023
Apr 6, 2023 at 8:24 AM UTC
A White-Rumped Snowfinch
(Montifringilla Taczanowskii to be precise)
from a fat mother,
from the peak of ****** Lake’s juniper tree,
where seeds arrive each night at supper
(the depression never struck our nest!)
and from a fine education--
I’ve learned my ways around this town,
I’ve learned the hedges where the crows cackle
By the school, on the mountain roads.
I seek a regular, weekend fling,
No titles, just feelings.
Preferably females two years or older,
Fellow finches or bluebirds will do.
Let us dine on seasoned larva,
Sunflowers from the Biltmore fields.
I will peck your cheek,
You shall return the favor gratefully.
Let us seize breeding season
Before the flocks flock southward.
You know where to find me.
Dec 25, 2013
Dec 25, 2013 at 6:24 PM UTC
In a lit parlor you recite pain
Anecdote
She went missing, babe split in the night
I’m placid and have mastered jealousy
this time,
I know a friend best when I can face them leg splayed.
But that old ghost howls,
Old ghost
Old shame
Old photos alone.
I had a unibrow in one and my shirt was too big
but I thought it was stylish
And I thought I could be a model.
Whatever happened to that photo?
Where do old memories go when you toss them out
with the trash?
I always thought the garbage man must have a
fat photo album.
I guess I should be more careful
I guess I should learn to let go
I’m walking with my head held high
My hair twin serpents on my breast
And I stumble over a meaty stump-
It’s alive with larva and its eyes are ripe
And its tongue hangs out of its maw vulgarly
It laps at my ankle
“Remember me? Remember me?”
CAN’T YOU STAY DEAD
I hear myself shouting from somewhere totally vulnerable and
Why did I ever let you touch me?
Thanks so much-
Aug 1, 2013
Aug 1, 2013 at 4:05 PM UTC
Lost child afternoon
green pick up truck
cigarettes silver lipstick gold'n red
red like the horizon
in closed eyes
in
underwater blankets
where
Tiny fish and clams and beer bottles swim
Lost Child Afternoon
Gorgeous road signs
laying like a dog
with women of Florida purity alligator tongue
laying like a dead fly
on the carpets chest
resting like a mother
resting like a newborn Larva
like a newborn seed
grasping onto a Nebrask-ian breeze
A'hoy
A'hoy
the sail boat of life
is casting out
give us
give eye
a penny for a ride
for a passser-by
2 pennies to love
3 to keep the love
and 4 to
come back to shore
come aboard
come aboard
the whiskey is
practically gone
practically free
Wear some boots
because it rains
and the mud is thick like hair
the flowers of life
bow like magnificent dream girl eye lashes
questions balance on a blink
come aboard
life seeker
life conquistador
life Apollo 11'er
life
wanderer wonderer
life protagonists
life main character
life 10 dollars
life love affair
life
30 years old
in dog years
Life
Mexican SunRise
Life
A.M.
Life
take her out to dinner
she put on
25 dollar lipstick
to imprint
to stain
your
offered
cigarette.
Mar 24, 2013
Mar 24, 2013 at 2:11 AM UTC
1. Egg
[This is my hatching
thought, which you cannot
see.]
2. Larva
The moon shines,
a pretty pill.
It couldn’t fill me with more.
It couldn’t
spill its light more
brightly or cover me more
tenderly. My chalky
smile smiles back at her more
sweetly for the pain-killing.
It’s magic.
3. Pupa
La lune brille,
une pilule assez.
Il ne pouvait pas me remplir de plus.
Il ne pouvait pas
répandre sa lumière plus
vives ou me couvrir plus
tendrement. Mon calcaires
sourire sourires de retour à son plus
doucement pour la douleur-massacre.
C'est magique.
4. Imago
The moon shines,
a pretty pill.
He could not fill me with more.
He could not
spread its light over-
bright, or cover me more
tenderly. My limestone
smile smiles back at its,
gently. To the pain-killing,
it's magical.
Aug 16, 2011
Aug 16, 2011 at 2:46 PM UTC
Crawling. I've been crawling. Down in the dirt on my abdomen. Searching for a tree to cling to. To hang from upside down. To take a step into the chrysalis. To be born a new.
This skin I wear, encases me. When I've moulted I will be free. I will escape the confounds of bone and flesh. Of time and space. Of birth and death.
When I pass. When I pass through this knot. The knot in the infinite line of things. I will pass through biology, enter into a state beyond. Beyond our senses. Beyond our limitations. With nothing to gravitate towards.
The butterfly, it calls to me. My day is coming, it will be free.
It's been inside of me. Been here all along. Waiting to come out.
I am not the skin I wear. I am not the title I bear. I am, I am!
We're all larva. We all got butterflies inside of us. Come and crawl with me. Get down on your abdomen. We're gonna find a tree. To hang from, and set the butterfly free.
Apr 19, 2019
Apr 19, 2019 at 7:07 PM UTC
Each day is a face with two sides
Do or die
Failure is an ointment
Swarmed by flies
Lies birthed from larva
Contempt bred from pride
The caterpillar cocooned is consumed
Blind to the future
Either monarch or moth
Led astray by the flame
Jun 2, 2021
Jun 2, 2021 at 9:50 PM UTC
How long did you lie there?
Crumpled like discarded waste
Slowly decaying into ash, so
Putrid not even the vultures dare feast.
Did you wait with your body?
Slowly seeping from soft flesh,
Not yet ready to relinquish your grip,
Little fleshy slugs coiling up;
Their heads peaking sideways.
Hands clasp, molding tissue.
Clay so susceptible to indentations,
Yet you had never recognized,
How faulty these compressions are.
How did you realize?
Symmetrical bone understands
What she never will
One palm embraces another,
Knows what hers cannot.
Are we made to intertwine?
When she found you, we waited.
Placing those worms amongst the dirt,
But you found no comfort.
Maggots deliver messages
But the larva is poor with snail mail.
So let go.
Time to understand has long passed.
Mar 26, 2012
Mar 26, 2012 at 11:15 PM UTC
You anticipate the bees’ arrival
with that same wonder lust in
your eyes that a child wears on
Christmas Eve, spending the whole
month before their arrival planning,
thinking out the construction of their
houses, going back and forth on the
decision of where you will put them
in the backyard. I listen with
fascination as you explain to me
about the workers, drones, and the
queen, who from a larva you tell me,
feeds solely on royal jelly.
You have become a beekeeper
extraordinaire, intent on teaching
me everything you know about bees.
And it is quite funny when you mimic
the bee dance, buzzing around in
circles, then abruptly changing
direction and buzzing around again.
I watch you with the same wonder
lust in my eyes as you have when
you talk about your bees, feeling
a wealth of love for you, this man
tenderly caring for and loving one
of God’s smallest creations.
I anticipate the bees’ arrival with
dread, careful not to let on how
much they intimidate me. After
they arrive you take out a few and
gently hold them up for me to see,
the thought of their sting sending
chills over my body. That night, as
we do our own tango between the
sheets, I think of them out there
buzzing, buzzing; the ****** queen
leaving the hive to mate with drones-
the lazy bees who make no honey,
their sole purpose to mate then die.
Nov 12, 2011
Nov 12, 2011 at 7:42 PM UTC
crawling centipedes
spiders scurry silently
basement bug barrage
silverfish slithering so,
reverting fearfully back
awful arthropods
disgusting diplopoda
infamous insects
holes in the ground, walls and floor
inhumane habitation
pesky perspective
look at things my way, big sir
seek shadowed shelters
horrifying is my name
scaring people is my game
big shoes, enemy!
fear me? unreasonable
boneless body crushed
ironic scare, you not me
exoskeleton demise
now you see me, now you don't
until next time my good friend
May 1, 2015
May 1, 2015 at 3:50 PM UTC
Sola nel mondo eterna, a cui si volve
Ogni creata cosa,
In te, morte, si posa
Nostra ignuda natura;
Lieta no, ma sicura
Dall'antico dolor. Profonda notte
Nella confusa mente
Il pensier grave oscura;
Alla speme, al desio, l'arido spirto
Lena mancar si sente:
Così d'affanno e di temenza è sciolto,
E l'età vote e lente
Senza tedio consuma.
Vivemmo: e qual di paurosa larva,
E di sudato sogno,
A lattante fanciullo erra nell'alma
Confusa ricordanza:
Tal memoria n'avanza
Del viver nostro: ma da tema è lunge
Il rimembrar. Che fummo?
Che fu quel punto acerbo
Che di vita ebbe nome?
Cosa arcana e stupenda
Oggi è la vita al pensier nostro, e tale
Qual dè vivi al pensiero
L'ignota morte appar. Come da morte
Vivendo rifuggia, così rifugge
Dalla fiamma vitale
Nostra ignuda natura;
Lieta no ma sicura,
Però ch'esser beato
Nega ai mortali e nega à morti il fato.
1.1k
Flies digest my dead thoughts as larva is left
to again once feed on the thoughts that weren't
totally digested and reverberating inside my skull.
My attention is waning and not as coherent as
it once was. I just hear an inherent murmur of
what died slowly digested within my scalp.
Why are my memories of before only faded
repetitions of what was fed upon before.
My mind is so dark with fluttering wings.
"My mind has died and only the flies pick at my thoughts,
Nov 13, 2016
Nov 13, 2016 at 1:39 PM UTC