"manatee" poems
I will love you no matter how many mistakes I make when trying to reduce fractions, and no matter how difficult it is to memorize the periodic table. I will love you as the manatee loves the head of lettuce and as the dark spot loves the leopard, as the leech loves the ankle of a wader and as a corpse loves the beak of a vulture. I will love you as the iceberg loves the ship, and the passengers love the lifeboat and the lifeboat loves the teeth of the ***** whale, and the ***** whale loves the flavor of naval uniforms. I never want to be away from you again, except at work, in the restroom or when one of us is at a movie the other does not want to see.
I will love you as we find ourselves farther and farther from one another, where we once were so close that we could slip the curved straw, and the long, slender spoon, between our lips and fingers respectively. I will love you until the chances of us running into one another slip from slim to zero, and until your face is fogged by distant memory, and your memory faced by distant fog, and your fog memorized by a distant face, and your distance distanced by the memorized memory of a foggy fog. I will love you no matter where you go and who you see, no matter where you avoid and who you don’t see, and no matter who sees you avoiding where you go. I will love you no matter what happens to you, and no matter how I discover what happens to you, and no matter what happens to me as I discover this, and no matter how I am discovered after what happens to me as I am discovering this.
I will love you as a drawer loves a secret compartment, and as a secret compartment loves a secret, and as a secret loves to make a person gasp, and as a gasping person loves a glass of brandy to calm their nerves, and as a glass of brandy loves to shatter on the floor, and as the noise of glass shattering loves to make someone else gasp, and as someone else gasping loves a nearby desk to lean against, even if leaning against it presses a lever that loves to open a drawer and reveal a secret compartment. I will love you until all such compartments are discovered and opened, and until all the secrets have gone gasping into the world.
I will love you as misfortune loves orphans, as fire loves innocence, and as justice loves to sit and watch while everything goes wrong.
I will love you if I never see you again, and I will love you if I see you every Tuesday.
Strange as it may seem, I still hope for the best, even though the best, like an interesting piece of mail, so rarely arrives, and even when it does it can be lost so easily.
Life will never end when you are in it.”
Apr 25, 2014
Apr 25, 2014 at 1:30 PM UTC
It's early,
And yet I see the faint glimmer of the future,
It's undulating just over the horizon like a sea cow;
Adorable and ignorant.
A heavy beast, capable of violence,
And in need of protection.
I hope I have the strength.
Aug 18, 2014
Aug 18, 2014 at 1:28 PM UTC
Fat and disgusting,
the manatee eats and *****
with endangered grace.
Choreographed fits
awaken society
to its slow decline.
Politicians race
to win the seat but forget
how to act like men.
Why isn't there a
sociopath filter built
into the system?
Aug 9, 2012
Aug 9, 2012 at 1:42 AM UTC
There are not enough
poems about manatees
If you are interested in human
rights being kicked like a dog
and justice being dragged
through mud, you can find it
If you are interested in love
that aches with a “burning
heart” or a “bleeding soul”
you can find it
If you are interested in death
that holds out its hand
to you like relief, or takes
one too early, you can find it
But where, I ask, do you find
a badger in a turtleneck?
Or a cup of coffee that doesn’t
sound so self important?
If you’re interested in the
ocean or the sea or maybe
a single “crushing wave
of emotion,” you can find it
If you’re interested in God
dying to save you, or God
abandoning you to the darkness
you can find it
If you’re interested in athletics—
especially running towards
dreams and horizons—and
losing and winning, you can find it
But where, I ask, do you find
a good left-handed centipede?
Or a wonderful, ice cold beer that
doesn’t turn into alcoholism?
If you want to find a poem about
how the “gray rain spills from
the clouds like the pain”
you can find it
If you don’t want to find a poem
about rain you’ll still find it
(cause those rain poems
are everywhere)
If you’re looking for a poem
about regret and forgiveness
and cruel mercy making false
promises, you can find it
But where, I ask, do you find
a barbarian ballerina?
Or a cigarette whose smoke doesn’t
outline the shadows of a lost soul?
Show me these things, show me
a fat manatee, and I will finally
take a deep breath and smile
Apr 19, 2013
Apr 19, 2013 at 6:07 PM UTC
The shouting face of the sea
Ravages rocks on the toes of the beach
Seashells glued to glass
laminate the reflecting rays of the baking sun
A pebble preaches to a mountain
Underneath an electric dream
Galvanize my heart,
It needs a jump-start
Stuck in a frozen tundra of fallacy
Chasing broken tragedies
I told her
I tried
Nothing seems to change the mind
So I guess I’ll have to lie
Praying a lion’s smile
captures her immaculate eyes
But my summer’s luck lacks the ability to clear cloudy skies
Now I am alone in a misty meadow
With taciturn trees
Yet you were like the warm belly of a manatee
And I was a calloused heart hoping for a remedy
Aug 25, 2010
Aug 25, 2010 at 5:28 AM UTC
Not as eloquent
as a fountain pen,
not as artistic
as a sketching pencil,
not even as bright as a magic marker,
but one smart cookie to your kids.
We have cool names like
Cotton Candy, Manatee,
Razzmatazz and Inchworm,
and are non-toxic sticks of joy
to those little imaginations.
Yes, we sometimes look like
clumps of colored wax
smashed into tissue paper,
and we do break easily
or lose our wrappers at the drop of a hat,
then get tossed in a bag
or worse, become homeless.
And horror of horrors!
We’re reinvented as candles
or reheated into twisted zombies
of our former selves.
And neither do our achievements
reside in a museum or gallery,
why they're not even framed
and proudly displayed on a wall.
No, they're slapped on ***** refrigerators
and kept there by plastic alphabet
magnets that loosely spell
such mundane things
as ‘milk’, ‘cheese’ or ‘daddy is dumb,'
until they fall to the floor
or end up in the trash.
But hey man,
give us a break!
This is our plight,
it’s a harsh existence!
Perhaps we should organize,
form a union for children’s
writing and drawing utensils,
and thus ensure equality
for us crayons?
We realize, more than likely,
this poem's title will cause
some backlash by those
who insist it be called
‘Return of the Crayon,’
because we 'happy sticks', you see,
supposedly don’t take revenge.
Nonetheless, we stand by it.
It is what it is!
Your children love us
and so should you!
Nov 5, 2019
Nov 5, 2019 at 4:18 PM UTC
I've always been poisoned at the words of people
Living in a world stuck between lesser evils
They told me I was unlovable for humanity
They would address me as 'you manatee'
And I just started believing that I was unlovable.
Unlovable is another name for a soul
Who will slowly and surely roam alone
Unlovable just means ugly, fat and pathetic.
And I agree with you all,
I am unlovable...
Mar 7, 2016
Mar 7, 2016 at 6:54 AM UTC
You stop what you are saying
as you stare at me...
You then say, "Well,
what of Humanity?"
My eyes go wide
as I reply, "Why?"
You say back to me,
"Because."
"OH! It's a manatee."
Aug 27, 2012
Aug 27, 2012 at 7:13 PM UTC
Exploring unforseen frontiers,
the Basil Confederate meets
a prayer called Monday.
Huddle your anticipation,
my Manatee is growing restless
May 16, 2010
May 16, 2010 at 9:03 PM UTC
Tell me now what time it is
Now I'll ask your dog the same
Not because they don't understand
No, they don't even know the day.
It's occurred to me that humans
Are the only ones that know our fate
We're the only ones that even care
Animals only care to procreate.
I've come to senses, got the math
And now I really see it all
I know exactly just how long I'll live
Know the memories I'll recall.
My fish doesn't know it's 11:32
And the giraffes don't get New Years
The only thing the rabbit worries about
Is The Turtle and The Hare.
We're the only ones that worry
About how soon we'll reach the end
If we're reaching to the heavens
Or if we'll be condemned.
It's solely us that understand
Our own mortality
Manatee's haven't got a grip
Time is our own insanity.
And if you boil it down to the very end
Ignoring all the rest
Time steals our mindfulness
He committed a real, true theft.
So now if you'll join me in forgetting
That I'm human and I will die
Let's forget that Time is really there
Escape with me, if you don't mind.
Jun 20, 2013
Jun 20, 2013 at 11:51 PM UTC
Internal Corruption
A ticking time bomb for a disastrous eruption
An endless tug-of-war
Your mind your body can’t handle this anymore
Swaying back and forth
Back and forth
Near your last gasp
There’s something to grasp
Your last bit of sanity
Like a calm plump manatee
It lays there firm
A foundation now can be set for the long term
Aug 7, 2015
Aug 7, 2015 at 6:33 PM UTC
I toss,
I turn,
Spirits lift,
only to crash and burn,
I would change
to de-spare
if I had any,
more than none.
Why are there people
who get angry and
foist a will,
an unkind will
on others till
they break and break
like fine china on a porcelain tile floor?
drama and conflict are enough and
of this world,
blood stained words
are hurled,
I hope they never make it to my place
of fantasy, where I write in peace holding still
like a manatee in the sea,
thank you, hello poetry.
If someone needs this time and space,
to unload the life that weighs them
down or drags them into the streets,
kicking and screaming as the part
that goes streaming by is the very
reason they hide their eyes in public
or slump into their seat as the verbal
or text abuse, puts nails in the hope
which waits in escape, just beyond
their fingertips and barbed wire voices...
but as for me, so isolated
I may not always rhyme
I may not have the right prose,
my surreal images might raise
an eyebrow, and my as
and like may need a metamorphoses,
to even be a metaphor,
but through all of you here
I get to visit a different shore
each time I open up a poem,
even if I don't know your name,
or maybe even who you really are.
I am glad you let me care.
©ClemC092013
Sep 21, 2013
Sep 21, 2013 at 12:43 AM UTC
Rationality
means not loosing sanity
to vanity
But yours can damage me
So as it be
I'll travel to the sea
And start a life as a manatee
Insanity
has found a new degree
Perfect memory I can see
You face so gracious perfectly
As I let go of reality
Who doesn't love LSD?
In a tree
As they trip veraciously
Jan 26, 2016
Jan 26, 2016 at 6:24 AM UTC
She's so casual squishy,
that Velda Tautginas. Lithuanians
have the strangest names
but **** can they cook. Fine
figured woman too. That Marius
is sure a lucky man. I don't know
how he keeps the pounds off.
If someone was cooking me
kugel like that, I'd be fat as a
manatee. Gettin' close though.
Shoulda never moved to Florida.
It's so **** sticky, I can't bear
to leave the air conditioning. Still,
Id've never met the Tautginas
had I not moved to St. Pete's. Guess
I oughta get a treadmill or
one of them there Beachbody
workout videos. Hell Marius tells me
Velda's sister is recently widowed
and is moving here from Newark.
Bet she knows how to make,
kugel like that.
Nov 14, 2015
Nov 14, 2015 at 6:30 PM UTC
Your eyes are like diamonds
Before they were compacted
Your lips are as soft as a peach
Pit cut in half
Your skin is as white and smooth as paper
After it has been crumpled and singed
Your body is as beautiful as
That of a manatee
Don’t worry, maybe you look like a mermaid
from a distance
Jul 6, 2018
Jul 6, 2018 at 6:42 PM UTC
Odd-looking beasts are the manatee,
Who're not afflicted with vanitee.
They don't care how they look
When their picture is took
(Humans think this is insanitee).
Dec 3, 2016
Dec 3, 2016 at 2:24 PM UTC
I made a decision....
Not a good one. .. but mine to make. .
I fell in love with an addict. .
Someone that could never love me enough because there will always be ******
I can make you smile. .
Hold you close. .
Kiss your face. ..
But I'll never get you out of this place. ..
All these plans we made. ..
Manatee kisses, arm licks, t virus swapping. ...
Was it you?
Was it ever you? Those happy moments together?
How can you live in the dark?
Shooting up In a bathroom? Alone...
I wanted to save you. ..
You didn't tell me....
I didn't know it would hurt this way. ...
To save someone that would rather have a needle in their vein...
I never could give you that euphoricness..
I loved loving you....
Those good moments catch me up...
You said I saved you.... I never did
You've chosen that high over and over again. ..
E.J.M.
Feb 10, 2016
Feb 10, 2016 at 8:37 AM UTC
Flowing together like an ocean
A sea full of emotion
Peace, love, and unity
My new community
I am one with everyone
The night has just begun
I am not just having fun
I am glowing like the sun
I am connected to you
You are connected to me
When we flow together
We can finally flow free
There is enough space for the energy to go
There is enough heat for my cheeks to glow
There is friction-free transparency
I am you and you are me
As we are bobbing in this sea
I spot a rainbow manatee
He is followed by a neon dolphin
And a purple jelly close behind
As we join them in our swim
I lovingly lose my mind
Uniting with my forest fam
I transcend my narrow space
I am now part of I am
I am no longer behind my face
I am part of a greater being
Immersed in meaning
Life is fleeting
So no conceding
Dance unceasing
Merge with grace
To the human race
And find your place
Right where you are
No need for any effort
Effervescent in the dark
Tonight’s the night you light the spark
You shine until you blind
The dark eye that tricks your mind
That warps your intuition
Now you have x-ray vision
You see through false division
You have finally solved fission
You melt into everyone you love
As your mind transcends above
You bask in the radiant glow
Lovingly letting go, you flow
Jul 31, 2019
Jul 31, 2019 at 11:48 AM UTC
Fatso
You are and you aren’t
Whale
You are more than the labels they give you
Cow
It’s over now
Their insults cannot hurt you
Giant
You are not in middle school anymore
Ugly
They cannot hurt you anymore
Lard
You are a grown-ass woman
almost thirty,
unapologetically queer, hairy,
with curves and ******* and wide hips and pretty dips and
They cannot cypher their words,
syphon their insults by
relating you to a beautiful big creature
Cow, Whale, Lard, Fatso
What is a Lard but a singling
A bright beige soft nosed creature
with brownie eyes and long lashes
like a taper with a hooked nose
soft and long like an elephants
Flappy points of ears
that hear well
with tiny sharp teeth
like a land-locked manatee
or a furry caramel Beluga whale
Their insults only refer you to necessary creatures who give their life to feed you and their intellect to empower you
A Fatso is a bright blue animal that has shimmering rainbow wings (like a dragon) and thin curly white horns and milky grey eyes with a fabulous feathers and a fanned tail of royal purple that soars through the skit at light-speed and can bring the rain with its melodious cries
When they or you or they or you or
They are you you know
Insult you they are not insulting you
because a Lard and a Fatso are both such intelligent creatures
mystical and fervent
glorious and gargantuan
Large, yes
But beautiful all the same
They have sharp teeth and move through the earth or skies whenever and wherever they like
These animals have freedom
Just like how you have freedom
in how you think about yourself
which is
to think of yourself as
the sexist, prettiest, cutest
person alive
now isn’t that great?
now isn’t that grand?
You are gold plated and steel incorporated and glass blown and light shadows thrown and haggling heights and shaved delights and a hairy symphony and a harrowing city of sparkles that twinkle in the night.
You are beautiful
and might
just
save the world one day.
You are a mystical creature of the highest creed
and no one
can tell you
otherwise.
Feb 10, 2021
Feb 10, 2021 at 9:30 PM UTC
How desperate is the sun to stay afloat,
the sullen burning orange. The gulls
are not yet sated here,
quarreling for scraps and tidbits
clinging to the crusted foam
at water's edge. A buoy stands alert,
the bay's floating sentinel. Nearby,
an angler, struggling in the gloom,
strains to pull his tarpon in.
The harbor master knocks the rosy embers
from his pipe and, shrugging,
wipes his salty chin. In the water
by the tiki bar, a manatee disturbs
the surface, bobbing for rainwater
engendered by a sudden storm.
Refreshed, she spies a drunk, and disappears.
How quickly even purple fades to grey,
to twilight, and then the eager nothing.
Still, insufficient creatures that we are,
we feel the surging in our marrow,
pulling us further, further out to sea.
Apr 29, 2017
Apr 29, 2017 at 9:22 PM UTC
Lost inside my mind
There is no self to find
So I fragment into fractals
And I fly with pterodactyls
The colors overtake me
As the chemicals unmake me
Inside my mind’s eye, the mind’s sky is a firefly
No rhyme nor reason
No time or season
There is only here and now
There is no where or how
There is an untouched galaxy
There is no air or gravity
There is only cosmic unity
And perhaps a rainbow manatee
Jun 9, 2019
Jun 9, 2019 at 4:43 PM UTC
in talking to a
manatee an alluring
fact became confessed
rained upon they do not like
such irony i did think
Apr 9, 2022
Apr 9, 2022 at 9:31 AM UTC