"octopus" poems
PARODY OF "OCTOPUS'S GARDEN" BY RINGO STARR.
I'd like to be in the country
In a marijuana garden in the shade
They'd let us skid, and smoke a lid
In a marijuana garden in the shade
I'd ask my friends to come and smoke
A bowl of good until they all choke
I'd like to be in the country
In a marijuana garden in the shade
We would find digs, and ditch the pigs
In our little hideaway inside a van
Resting our head on a truck bed
In a marijuana garden on a ranch.
We would laugh at stupid ****
We'd forget why and take a hit.
I'd like to be in the country
In a marijuana garden in the shade
We would smoke and talk about
The police that put us all away
(put your stoner *** away)
Oh I'm high! I'm high as the blue sky
Forgot to go to work today.
(Unemployed today)
We would be so toasted you and me
No one there to call the boys in blue
I'd like to be in the country
In a marijuana garden with you
In a marijuana garden with you
In a marijuana garden with you
May 22, 2014
May 22, 2014 at 2:09 AM UTC
i'm your o so wanna be lover
I'm afraid not what you would expect though
i admit to being a difficult pleasure
perhaps
a tad strange looking
squishy with long tentacles
half man half octopus
with a winking cycloptic eye
i entreat you
looks can be deceiving
how many pretty boys have you loved
crawling worms for a soul
that have left you a ruined creel
a jagged cry chattering tears of desolation
have you ever asked your self
who adores you
who would give all to protect love and cherish
i'm waving my eight arms at you
from the center of the universe
i eat black holes to kiss your ***
am i not a cosmic horror
with my big Cthulhu smile
quivering with tenderness
do you hunger for butter **** lollypop
i have two big **** heartbreakers
with teardrop curves
a feast for your ravenous holes of emptiness
and many armed tentacles to hold you tight
to slither all over your tender woven caves
to pull you into me
with suckers that thrill
during swirling inky *****
i will unravel your mind
your soul tilthed
if you can get passed
my
gray rubbery boneless head
i can push this shape-shifting balloon face
through your annul tubular contours
all the way up your beautiful ***
licking
salivating
tickling into your
tender bowel and throat
like a great dancing tongue
a stretched waving goodness
entering your mouth from the back side
can pretty pretty do that?
come slowly unto me my beloved
i am all chromatophores
endless glittering nightlights
incandescent
so we may wander our way through long dim nights ******
in the deep deep dark
with tentacle ***** galore
an infinity of entertainment
for every crevice and desire
and one winking cycloptic eye
that pierces your soul
Apr 15, 2017
Apr 15, 2017 at 3:31 PM UTC
oh honey ****
pen and ink **** star warrior
pretty little manga girl
twinkle wisp
with kung fu throwing stars
and triple steel samurai sword
that tear through others
made of pink taffy
and cherry juice fizz blood
moving like lightening
a flying gladiator
with dripping sweet rice
and tapioca milk shake *******
oh
you would taste so good to drink
out of a swirling sherbet punch bowl
with big blow job star goldfish
and hungry pink ***** lips octopus
drooling
sit on your face suckers
oh, fighter of one-legged midgets
the best part after a fresh ****
victory ****
to go down on them
their loli pop *****
butter ***** beautiful
springing through the top of your skull
cause you can't get enough
oh wow
happy hello kitty
***** plump plops
viscous
before the coup de grâce
as she twirls their chewing gum gizzards
with her little swizzle tongue
goo ga licious
before placing
what's left of their hose like glistening entrails
around her throat like a pearl necklace
only to get strangled with it
by double **** UFO boy
solar ******* hero of the universe
so hard
she spurts pineapple juice and *** donuts
out of pucker pie ****
**** banged cross eyed
like little girl manga never felt so good
addicted to cruel
whipped with a hella wet noodle
yes no yes no yes no
yes pleazzz
her big blue marble glass eyes
binocular kaleidoscopes
spring out on the floor
and roll around
turning into all seeing
anti-gravity magnetized
silver pin stripped spaceships
peopled by
evil omni ****** **** *****
screaming through eternity
in search of cosmic
tushi sushi
ogling wiggling ballerina butts
bubble gum for the eyeballs
Mar 10, 2017
Mar 10, 2017 at 3:36 PM UTC
only wanted to enjoy the same unusual things
with like-minded people
the concierge of dystopia fnording *******
messing around with the octopus
cyberpunk nightmare with blue sky
expect a deluge and then wonder what happened to it
evaporated anxiety due for a downpour
catacombs rented by the hour
she typically cares about those
who don't care about her
abandoning me without consequence
don't ever come back
ungrateful swine of nowhere!
loyalty exists only in a parallel universe
where they locked themselves up
and destroyed the key
they feed the rich and ignore the poor
in the end the strugglers will prevail
and the ones who had it easy will suffer
game shows that punish the ignorant
rage that never ends
scoring infinite points in basketball
and still losing the game
only wanted to enjoy the same unusual things
with like-minded people
Sep 20, 2014
Sep 20, 2014 at 8:59 PM UTC
Royalty
She dwells in the sea- green palace of her father
The mermaid swam alone on blustery days
The seed of the water god Neptune and a river nymph
Her beauty blind the sun and his morning rays
On days of boredom
She swam with the white dolphins
Riding high on heaving rolling waves
Other times with Omura's whales dive deep
Or play in a red coral reef bay
Tickling blue ***** that walked on the sandy bottom
Exploring the dark octopus caves
Floating often with the deadly jellyfish
Keeping her scaled tail very still
Or wiggling through the raging currents of the ocean
With the graceful ribbon eels
The day passed passed
She became weary
Came time to rest her head
Returned to the flowing green kelp palace
And did sleep on a starfish bed
All Rights Reserved @Tammy M Darby August 2013.
All Material Stored in Author Base
Aug 10, 2013
Aug 10, 2013 at 6:43 PM UTC
Slippery tentacles swirl,
overlapping each other
in eagerness,
engulfing,
embracing,
the others.
To be mindless
clay thoughts
clumping, and
separating
with the tide.
Slimy, as seaweed
but smoother, and yet
bumpier
as well.
Slipping, sliding,
simple thoughts of
embrace,
simple arms of the
octopus.
Apr 25, 2014
Apr 25, 2014 at 5:05 AM UTC
Relating the incompatible
Reconciling irreconcilable
Forgetting the indelible
Walking the liquid ground.
Turning the dark on at noon
Being an octopus in the body of a racoon
Melting the stone, stoning the melted
No utterance commented.
How does it feel to be unreal?
You may not like me when I disagree
But teach me how to like me
While I'm
Relating the incompatible
Reconciling irreconcilable
Forgetting the indelible
Walking the liquid ground.
Turning the dark on at noon
Being an octopus in the body of a racoon
Melting the stone, stoning the melted
I'll romance the unloveable
Place my shoulder under the unbearable
The pose we take in an argument
Sustainable measurement.
Dec 30, 2014
Dec 30, 2014 at 1:19 PM UTC
Deep down in the inhospitable gloom
Monterey Canyon welcomes an expectant mother
Unnoticed in the distance a whirring sound
and two parallel laser beams
Miss Cellania finds a nook
That instinct suggests is right
A place to nest and brood
A place to guard and wait
1.4 kilometers up a research institute
Guided the unmanned submarine
Correlated masses of data
Stared at live video feed
A unique event unfolded
Capturing such a moment
in this dark abyss
Clinging to a vertical rock
Her precious babies waiting to hatch
Her final duty to
Wait
Wait
Wait
Wait
Wait
Protect from predators and the icy cold
And so she began the
Inky black wait
Detached
Alone
The research crew returned later that year
Miss Cellania dutifully kept her vigil
They returned again month after month
Still she stubbornly stuck to the task in hand
The months turned to years
And still she protected her unhatched young
Clung to the same vertical spot
With nothing to eat
Alert, defensive
Motherly
Patiently waiting
Wasting away
Waiting
Waiting
Untill
F i f t y t h r e e m o n t h s l a t e r
Four and a half years
Finally her wait ended
With a flurry of independent life
Then death.
Aug 2, 2014
Aug 2, 2014 at 5:17 PM UTC
They record the information but they leave no trace of themselves. All they ever do is record everything. They observe everything and record.
Mar 5, 2013
Mar 5, 2013 at 6:05 PM UTC
Poor little octopus.
Big head and eight tentacles
but no ***** ***** or testicles.
What's that, you say? Then how do these poor little cephalopods
buck such terrible odds when they feel like a ****** agenda
and they don't have any pudenda?
Well, it's quite simple, really. He hands her ***** on a tentacle
and what do you suppose?
She says, thank you very much, and sticks it up her nose!
Honest. No dinner first or shoulder massage,
she just whacks it up her nasal passage. You can be quite sure
this is an amazing olfactory aperture.
So the moral is, don't complicate a simple process.
When you're feeling frisky, *** need not be tricky.
Just consider the inventiveness of the octopus with no ***** or a ********
Because it's the ingenuity of the octopus, not it's ****** act,
that we should court. Compared to the octopus,
the human nose is naught.
It's too high up and tight for such naughty, wicked sport.
Also, such a human act is fraught with political incorrectness.
A gentleman who tries this little rort to get the girls to snort
and says, up your nostril, madam, might all too well
receive a rude retort. Or even worse!
I say herein lies food for thought.
Mike T Minehan
Feb 5, 2013
Feb 5, 2013 at 5:15 PM UTC
She had that
octopus smile,
always reaching for
something.
I was her small
fish; her handmaid.
I lived in her nebulous
world for far too long.
Inky confusion...
There's a reason for
your treason, said the
old man to the shark,
but Hem forgot, a beast
is a beast, they do
beastly things.
We all have to eat.
I'm done being the
meal.
It's your Ocean,
I'm just trying to
swim in it.
You're an oyster,
and I want your
pearl,
but I won't drown
for it.
Nov 16, 2021
Nov 16, 2021 at 7:34 AM UTC
Octavian Octopus
lives In the sea
with eight long tentacles
to hug you and me
He spends his days
with Seahorse Sabrina
who dreams longingly
of being a ballerina
Octavian wants so much
to be like his crony
but sadly, all of his
dance moves are bologna.
Still he felt that
he needed to impress
his funky fresh pal
in the pretty pink dress
so for hours, Octavian
practiced his spins and his twirls
he even got a costume
with glittery frills
So came the day
of the big talent show
He could show old Sabrina
that he too, was a pro
But alas,
half way through his act
his big squirmy arms
got caught in a crack
He tripped and he stumbled
and fell off the platform
tears started to fall
and away, he started to storm
"Stop!" a voice shouted at him
and he turned around to see
his best friend Sabrina
giggling with glee
"the very best dancer,
you don't need to be
if you really want to
be friends with me"
He smiled and she laughed
"you're very cool, you silly-old-goof,
but just be yourself,
not a stumbling doof"
Nov 23, 2013
Nov 23, 2013 at 10:43 AM UTC
She was swimming for so long
so when she felt the octopus grab her arm
she thought nothing of it. Until it pulled her under
to where she was surrounded by the greenish blue tentacles.
She could see the jellyfish in the distance, the ones
she had been swimming to, for so long...
But the octopus grew on her
she began to love it.
Their love grew and grew, until the octopus swam away...
so far she could barely see it anymore.
eventually she began swimming again
but in the opposite direction, looking for it.
When she couldn't swim anymore, she slowly sank.
She was lost for days, but he found her again and wrapped her up.
But when she woke up, she was different.
And everything was faded.
Aug 11, 2016
Aug 11, 2016 at 11:30 PM UTC
Along the sea floor
The choral beds your
Topology of dreams, sure
As any submarine lore
Between the blades of sun rays
An octopus parades
Happy in the shafts of light
It is not wrong or right to be an octopus tonight.
Aug 10, 2012
Aug 10, 2012 at 3:34 AM UTC
there was a little octopus the poor chap had the blues
he found it very hard when he was buying shoes
with so many legs shopping was a curse
and no shoes to buy this it made him worse
with four legs of left and four legs right
no one had the shoes the poor lite mite
so he had some made at the local cobbler store
making shoes for eight feet he had never done before
he made the shoes to fit made them very neat
made them made to measure for fit his little feet
octopus was happy now he had his shoes
he began to smile again and took away the blues
Feb 24, 2014
Feb 24, 2014 at 12:58 PM UTC
underneath the ocean in the deep blue sea
lived an octopus a funny chap was he
he had many legs eight he had in all
in and out rocks the octopus would crawl
swimming round the reef swimming everywhere
with his life so free life without a care
one day on his travels he heard a bubbled sound
coming from the rocks somewhere on the ground
he got a little closer to see it what it could be
it was his friend the lobster very stuck was he
lobster he was sad he couldnt move at all
as he was in the rocks they began to fall
trapping lobster in unable to break free
he was very stuck at the bottom of the sea
octopus was clever an knew what to do
i will use my legs he said and pull the rocks from you
octopus he pulled with his legs so strong
he used all his legs so it didnt take to long
lobster he was free and could swim again once more
no longer was he trapped like he was before
of they swam together as happy as can be
having lots fun both so full of glee
Mar 10, 2014
Mar 10, 2014 at 10:49 AM UTC
I put on my aqua-lung and dive,
Exploring there I see a giant tortoise plunge to the coral reef,
Just missing a lonely lobster gliding across the sand.
I hide from a fearsome shark, sniffing the water for blood.
A crawling crayfish scuttles away.
I come to an angry octopus squirting its enemy with ink.
Swaying seaweed hide sleeping starfish.
A fluttering flounder quickly swims by in pursuit of a sliding seal.
But too soon the bitter cold wraps around me like a blanket and pulls me to the surface.
Back to the ordinary world.
Feb 27, 2013
Feb 27, 2013 at 10:23 AM UTC
A baby sea turtle in my hands:
the outer islanders call him Wol,
he will be a nomad, if anyone will.
What will the world look like to him?
Will he dream of killer whales,
those Swiss Cake Rolls of the sea?
Of winning the three hearts
of an octopus?
See what the turtle sees,
and rejoice.
The sea turtle, like the human, cries saltwater
and the tears cover two-thirds of the earth.
He risks pirate ship, cigarette boat, Chinese net.
He mistakes bait for food. (Who doesn’t?)
But he can swim away from; swim towards:
India, Mombasa, New Zealand, Ulithi.
The world's a turtle’s home,
why is anyone a nomad if not for this?
See what the turtle sees
and rejoice, carrying only
the markings on your shell.
A jungle.
A shack.
Half a moon.
Islands sprinkled like tiny green beads
across the Water of the Sky.
A first tattoo—seven little turtles--
and it hurts in a good way
like the world does.
Dear Creator
keep me from evil
keep my life
keep my going out and my coming in
Mar 8, 2013
Mar 8, 2013 at 4:39 AM UTC
ONE
man sits in a pristine state of loneliness
his one heart in perfect singularity
waiting
to be found
not bothering to search
waiting to find himself
as a part
of
TWO
hands held
with two beats, the quiet
lub-dub of each of the
two hearts
slightly out of synchronization
overlapping
just a touch
so the two double beats
become a beat
of
THREE
perfect circles in descending sizes
in each of their
eyes
of which there are
FOUR
lip touches to say goodbye
because the first
would’ve been the last without the second,
the second wasn’t sufficient
and the third wasn’t enough
and the fourth
would lead to kiss
number
FIVE
fingers locked
around
five
fingers
on the small of her back
and five fingers wrapped up in
his hair
he wishes he had more fingers to make the
hold stronger
he wishes
he had
SIX
syllables spoken between them
the same three words repeated
so they know
that
their hearts beat
a little bit closer
the veins and arteries
wrapping around the other
pulling it in
pulling the beats together
making them a little less
disjointed
but she’s all the nearer comatose,
her slow beats
in this minute
barely reached
SEVEN
sounds
that he counts
in every
minute
that he stands there
unable
to sit
his legs locked, shut
like her eyes
that he wants to stare into
he shakes
she does not stir
even as the sun climbs higher in the morning sky
she does not stir
he counts more sounds
every minute
he counts as they
go from
seven
to
EIGHT
arms and legs
wrapped like tentacles
wrapped so tight
never wanting to release
and show the red
suction marks
from each of their fingers
on the other’s
skin
like an octopus
their eight limbs
holding together
their one heart
it’s dull
lub-dub beat
in perfect synchronization
with itself
in the perfect opposite
of a pristine
state of loneliness
Jan 5, 2011
Jan 5, 2011 at 3:01 PM UTC
there was little octopus he just loved to sing
but the thing he loved most of all was the highland fling
he would play his bagpipes and do his little dance
with his funny legs he just love to prance
he just loved the bagpipes he just played away
doing his little jig that made him bright and gay
he was very happy in scottish kilt
with his little hat he wore at a tilt
he just loved the joy that it used bring
he was very happy to do the highland fling
Mar 22, 2010
Mar 22, 2010 at 9:32 AM UTC
Over a park not to far away
There is a tree
Know by all the kids
As the octopus tree
We called it this as it had eight low laying branches
That grow up into the sky
Looked like an upturned octopus
There you gave your heart to me
As others had done
What changed?
May 31, 2012
May 31, 2012 at 5:26 PM UTC
there was little octopus he just loved to sing
but the thing he loved most of all was the highland fling
he would play his bagpipes and do his little dance
with his funny legs he just love to prance
he just loved the bagpipes he just played away
doing his little jig that made him bright and gay
he was very happy in scottish kilt
with his little hat he wore at a tilt
he just loved the joy that it used bring
he was very happy to do the highland fling.
Nov 26, 2013
Nov 26, 2013 at 11:59 AM UTC
Your origami snapper came along
tucked into my wallet
things like that don't travel well
but I managed
they suffered a lesion to the spine
snappers are apparently weak there
maybe we can work on growing a backbone together
handmade gifts mean the most
less, when it was made in whimsy and flimsy
more, because it gave me false hope
maybe it's a sign
like a uke-playing octopus
maybe friendship is all I need right now
your origami snapper is a great listener
It sits on my desk
Either mocking or pondering, I can’t tell
Snappers are hard to read that way
Maybe if we showed more emotion you’d
notice
but action requires reaction
and somehow the origami rose I made forgot it’s origami thorns
But there could be blood on my hands
From a beautiful friendship I so recklessly slaughter
pulling up roots like weeds
adding wistful thinking to inimitable memories
Jul 10, 2018
Jul 10, 2018 at 11:34 PM UTC
I couldn't care less about
"Inspirational Quotes"
I don't need to be told that
the present is a gift
or what the best thing about
rock bottom is
or that only I can stop forest fires.
If I was to write one myself,
it would have less to do with
landing in the stars,
and more to do with
how much better you could see them
if you had the eyes of an octopus.
See,
Octopi have such phenomenal eyes.
The spectrum of color they see
makes our own look like
the ****** box of crayons
you get at a kids restaurant.
Whereas an octopuses,
would be the beautiful,
64 Crayola pack
I always wanted as a kid.
If I ever went blind,
I think I'd get octopus eye replacements.
And yeah,
I'd probably look weird because
they'd be too big for my head
but can you imagine how
strange and incredible
it would be?
And it wouldn't matter how I look because
how I see things
is more important to me
than how I'm seen.
If there was even the
slightest chance,
of seeing though the
eyes of an octopus,
that's reason enough to be alive.
And if I could take your life
or your perspective,
and change it even a bit,
that's reason enough too.
So look through the
eyes of an octopus.
Can you imagine the stars?
Apr 23, 2018
Apr 23, 2018 at 1:18 PM UTC
Tentacles grasping for nutrition
Soaking in everything around you.
Filled with visceral emotion overload
Angered by the world's injustices
You must then express yourself in ink
To empty.
Jul 23, 2018
Jul 23, 2018 at 7:32 AM UTC