"otter" poems
When you plunged
The light of Tuscany wavered
And swung through the pool
From top to bottom.
I loved your wet head and smashing crawl,
Your fine swimmer's back and shoulders
Surfacing and surfacing again
This year and every year since.
I sat dry-throated on the warm stones.
You were beyond me.
The mellowed clarities, the grape-deep air
Thinned and disappointed.
Thank God for the slow loadening,
When I hold you now
We are close and deep
As the atmosphere on water.
My two hands are plumbed water.
You are my palpable, lithe
Otter of memory
In the pool of the moment,
Turning to swim on your back,
Each silent, thigh-shaking kick
Re-tilting the light,
Heaving the cool at your neck.
And suddenly you're out,
Back again, intent as ever,
Heavy and frisky in your freshened pelt,
Printing the stones.
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Fashion to nerd are not twerps
matching oufits make you chirp
mix n match is my motto
never look like a scruffy otter
have the right clothes for working
add a sprinkle of derpiness
and your hair must go
make sure your not slow
Sep 6, 2013
Sep 6, 2013 at 4:38 PM UTC
critical thinking
as you call it;
that which
I seem to lack.
need to
improve
upon.
and I agree in ways.
you said,
it is observing
the situation,
the pieces,
I have at hand,
and deducing
the best possible way
in my knowledge
to make them
fit together.
sounds
quite simple -
common sense.
simple,
if my mind
ran as smoothly as your own.
a trait of yours
I admire greatly.
a trait of others
I am envious of.
but critical thinking
is different when
my mode of
thinking
is not the same
I do not see
my surroundings;
my life,
my reality,
as cogs and gears
that progress
this existence.
I admire
the way you,
and others
pick up on the
little
small
hidden artifacts
that allow yourself
to discover
the best
possible way
to proceed.
if I were to say,
you noticed
the overlooked
and finer details,
I would say
I notice-
no-
I experience awareness
of it's entirety.
how it feels
to me
and how I feel
about it.
if our
individual
thought processes
were placed
in an ever changing river,
whose currents
vary
and are unpredictable?
yours
would be
picking up the driftwood
the sticks,
and objects in grasp.
and as the current carries it,
it would be constructing
a raft
to stay afloat:
safe
and
in the most
comfortable way,
so it could eventually
construct
something suitable
and sturdy
to rest upon,
and relax with content,
while enjoying
the splashes
and warm sunlight
from a safe spot.
instead of
deducing the situation
as yours did,
my thought process
would drift along
the same river,
letting the current
take it under -
if that is where
it felt like going.
finding logs
and debris
to hang on to
when the current
became too much
and it needed a break.
yours may be
high and dry,
but mine has felt
the pebbles
along the bottom
of this river -
the depth and pressure
almost frightening,
but the experience
in itself
always beautiful.
mine floats upon it's back,
like an otter,
enjoying the sunlight
as yours does,
experiencing
this journey through
the rivers path.
and maybe,
if the current gets rough,
if mine is struggling,
it will find the hand
of yours
lifting it up
to keep it safe
until the rocky waters
have passed.
I experience
as I feel,
which may not
be the best approach
all of the time.
but with this,
I am able to
feel
what I believe
is the best choice,
based
on my experience
of the whole.
you make me
feel
and want to
try
new ways of thinking,
new ways
that may help.
you are always pushing
pushing me
to do more
to be more;
which is just one
of the many reasons
why I love you.
Apr 6, 2016
Apr 6, 2016 at 3:49 AM UTC
Sunday:
Ant Pills
Bear Traps
Cobra Feet
Monday:
Dolphin Lungs
Eel Soup
Frog Limbs
Tuesday:
Gecko Suits
Horse Pie
Inchworm ***
Wednesday:
Jaguar Barbed
Koala Beer
Lynx Lynch
Thursday:
Monkey Chips
Narwhal Fashions
Otter Drugs
Friday:
Porcupine Rehab
Quail Map
Roadrunner Piano
Saturday:
Slug Party
Turkey Slop
Urchin See
Sunday:
Vulture Guns
Walrus Tongues
X No
Monday:
Yellowjacket Fever
Zebra Clowns
Oct 4, 2010
Oct 4, 2010 at 9:08 PM UTC
We went through the motions
Until all went motionless
(The otter frollicked turning everything
into a game of joy to being alive)
Touch became accidental at best to our ways
Once we could touch but now nothing more
(The otter nipped at the turtle
flipped about as it played)
Words dripped from our tongues
Heavy like molasses as the intent fades away
(Down the grass the otter slides into the river
Over and over like a little child)
Reason lost to accusations , accusations took it's toll .
Accusations took our time , creating false crime
(I watch as the otter swims on it's way
Dipping , diving to where I can't say)
Now I sit in the darkness with full moon fever
Wondering how could something turn so wrong that once was so right
Apr 30, 2015
Apr 30, 2015 at 8:20 PM UTC
I am the raven,
I eat the dead,
I am the raven,
I remember all things,
I am the raven,
I build all,
I am the raven,
I know all things.
I am the otter,
In rivers and creeks I swim,
I am the otter,
I eat and I play,
I am the otter,
On slopes I slide,
Joy is mine,
In the mountain streams,
I own the rivers,
I feed on their fish.
I am the snake,
The serpent I am,
Between and through move I,
On belly I crawl,
Gold are my scales,
Glacier blue and silver,
All colours they change,
First one then the other,
I taste the air with my tongue,
Through my belly,
I listen to all,
Far craftier than all,
The beast of the field am I.
I am the fox,
The vixon am I,
Crafty and wise,
And hard to catch,
In the ground I live,
Cross the fields I race,
Quick and fast,
I take what I want,
Nothing is safe,
If it I desire,
A vixon am I,
Fleet foot and large tail,
Back and forth it moves,
Grace and escasy,
All come to me,
All I desire.
I am hawk,
I soar and I fly,
Above the plains,
All things I see,
None see what I see,
From up above,
Down I soar,
To **** and eat,
Still on a wire,
Or on a fence,
I know when to wait,
I know when it's time,
When prey is in sight,
Not a second to lose.
I am the vole,
Who lives in the field,
Down in the earth,
I burrow and dig,
Across the field,
All seeds are mine,
To eat and enjoy,
From dusk until dawn,
Timid and cautious,
I look to the sky,
I cannot fight,
I'm weak and I'm small,
But many am I,
And many more come,
And still we will be,
When all you are gone.
I am the owl,
Silent and still,
You know not I passed,
Only my wind,
Silent end deadly,
Queen of the night,
I will consume,
Whatever I catch.
I am the horse,
Across the plains do I run,
Swifter than all,
The one none can catch,
I run like the wind,
For we are one kind,
My mane and my tail,
Like banners and flags,
Nothing can stop us,
Nothing can try,
For we're always moving,
The fast wind and I.
I am the trout,
See how my scales glisten,
I am the trout,
At home in the water,
I swim and I breathe,
What causes others to drown,
I listen to the water,
The rivers, the creeks, the lakes,
The secrets I know,
No others can know.
I am the eagle,
High, high I soar,
Queen of the high places,
All others beneath,
What is not prey,
I care not at all,
I and I only,
See what I see.
But above all tonight,
The fox and vixon am I,
****** and sensual,
Grace and desire,
In the land where the sun sets,
This land that is dusk,
I am all ***
The kiss of the dead,
The dusk sets like dust,
It powders my fur,
In the night do I hunt,
In the night do I *****
My fur is desire,
My tail moves and calls,
I walk here as ***
All come to my call.
~I Am the Fox by Lorekeeper, June 7, 2014
Jun 13, 2014
Jun 13, 2014 at 4:08 AM UTC
The white paper snail
Followed the *** trail
To a small gold boat
Where sailors hang their coats
The two eyed pirate king
Went Sunday fishing
To buy his pretty daughter
A pearl diving otter
The pet store vendor
Had putrid body odor
To solve his dilemma
He ingested a chimera
The knight and his squire
Went to sing and play lyre
At the cave with a bear
Who had no head hair
Another crazy poem
From an old seaside home
The brown eyed bard
Sends you a greeting card
May 7, 2014
May 7, 2014 at 11:41 PM UTC
You know you're a sailor's daughter
When you can smell if there's salt in the water
You know you're a sailor's daughter
When you swim with the ease of an otter
You know you're a sailor's child
When you love waters both tame and wild
You know you're a sailor's girl
When water surrounds your whole world
Aug 11, 2016
Aug 11, 2016 at 4:10 PM UTC
little ollie otter took a trip once more
to somewhere far away to a far off shore
he took a trip to switzerland
he just love to ski
skiing down the mountains he just long to be.
skiing through the snow skiing down the side
with his skiing skill ollie he would slide
he climbed a snowy mountain so he could have a go
ollie he set off sliding through the snow
going very fast on each and every bend
using all his skill till he reached the end
ollie he was happy it gave him such a thrill
he just long to ski down a mountain hill.
ollie he went home his hoilday was done
then fell fast asleep and dreamed of all his fun
Oct 22, 2014
Oct 22, 2014 at 3:15 PM UTC
A sunflower grows
"tall and simple".
And so does a cancer
small and simple.
Holes grow larger
around me.
A field of sunflowers
and headstones.
The power of recovery and discovery;
the kick of a pen
during unconscious behavior.
Chatty beats taking control
of the morgue.
Not letting the rivers in--
only the shivers.
Chatty beats taking the liver,
putting it in a living corpse.
Chatty beats opening the door in the clouds.
That's but a bedtime story that's
read to the youth and
told as the truth.
Hypnotize so I can't criticize,
stick my face in the water
and show me the baby otters I loved
from my childhood bedtime stories.
The glories of floating
on my back into a
brand new habitat
filled with sunflowers
"tall and simple"
and holes growing larger
to keep me warm and breathing
under the water.
Feb 10, 2013
Feb 10, 2013 at 12:03 AM UTC
I've had enough of all this wind and reindeer
We otter go away
Holidays are important, my parents tortoise that
Weasel have to look on the internet
You know I can't bear the heat
But here's a spa hotel where I'm sure they would panda to your every need
Alpaca suitcase right away
Toothpaste tube, cattle class
Purple stripes, rows of lights
A newly formed castle white
In concrete, steel and glass
Cloud-high halls, giant pots
Re-charging bodies strewn around
Turning deeper shades of brown
Volcanic sand, hot black rock
We watch a floating city, blazing light
Like a dying star, fade into the night
-
Ali, where do these bananas go?
What kind of tree is this?
How far does this levada flow?
Ali takes the tourists out
He throws some breadcrumbs in the water
He likes to feed the trout
Madeira born in forty five
Ali told me many things
Ali, our levada walking guide
His family was very poor
He collected mussels from the shore
And sticks to burn for heat
For today his mother said
I have no food and we must eat
We have to eat
Ali, where are all the vines?
How long before your boots wear out?
Do you drink the local wine?
Do the tourists drive you mad
With all the questions that they ask?
Ali smiles, shuffles us aside
To let some others pass
Nov 18, 2013
Nov 18, 2013 at 9:02 AM UTC
"That quiche was delicious and - Harry Potter!"
Oh no, not him again, what a bother.
"What time should I pick you up to take you to - Harry Potter!"
Seriously? I suppose we'll pretend like he already got her.
"Did you finish chemistry and start your - Harry Potter!"
Oh, i wish we could just stop talking about that rotter.
"Do you mind getting the laundry for - Harry Potter!"
Umm, you know the clothes smell, we really otter.
This boy is worse than Peter Pan
He lives in my house and rides in my van!
My girls all adore him and his glasses
And the more he talks, the more he attracts the masses.
Whoever is this Dumbledore?
I really don't want to hear anymore.
Snape just looks like he's evil
All I know is he's causing upheaval.
Ron, that poor redhead
And Hermione that bossy big head.
Edward somehow got mixed in
And i hear he died in the end.
But I couldn't care less, please go away!
I will get rid of them all one day.
I know what must happen when I hear Potter,
I must become a pest control plotter!
Dec 4, 2012
Dec 4, 2012 at 12:39 PM UTC
I really truly wish I had
A Jellyfish tank in my living room
And no colleagues and friends I ain't mad
because imagine people that peaceful gloom
Of a little mindless pudding swimming in the water
But when I think about it I might rather have an otter
T T T T
E E E E
N N N N
T T T T
A A A A
C C C C
L L L L
E E E E
S S S S
Feb 11, 2016
Feb 11, 2016 at 4:18 PM UTC
Dear native brook! wild streamlet of the West!
How many various-fated years have passed,
What happy and what mournful hours, since last
I skimmed the smooth thin stone along thy breast,
Numbering its light leaps! Yet so deep impressed
Sink the sweet scenes of childhood, that mine eyes
I never shut amid the sunny ray,
But straight with all their tints thy waters rise,
Thy crossing plank, thy marge with willows grey,
And bedded sand that, veined with various dyes,
Gleamed through thy bright transparence! On my way,
Visions of childhood! oft have ye beguiled
Lone manhood’s cares, yet waking fondest sighs:
Ah! that once more I were a careless child!
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Where shall a hungry mermaid dine
When she hankers, for something fine?
Spiny oysters make a nice cocktail;
And octopus tentacles; and grey narwhal.
And where should she sit, and what shall she use
To stab her undersea feast, infuse
Her goblet, filled up with sparkling sea water,
Awaiting her course, of fresh sea-otter.
And should she tip, at the end of the meal
The dolphin who served her so much krill,
In his scrutable suit, of skin-tight rubber-
(The respectable mermaid never eats blubber).
Jul 26, 2010
Jul 26, 2010 at 7:35 PM UTC
Otters are very smarter
with their medium size brain and all
They use sticks and stones as tools
So you can't say they are fools
Their favorite dish
is very large clams and fish
Otters are just so cool
They could live in your pool
So if your are smarter
You for so love the otter!!!
Feb 24, 2015
Feb 24, 2015 at 11:53 PM UTC
Stay away!
Stand back!
Don't come closer!
I change into the monster,
As I am called an impostor,
By my own father.
I wish I was once more the perfect daughter.
My brother waits for me to be slaughtered,
I wish to plea, and ask for water,
But to them now, I am a helpless otter.
A witch even.
No matter how loud I cry,
I am still the bad guy,
Don't you see?
I just want to be left alone. . .
Oct 8, 2014
Oct 8, 2014 at 5:16 PM UTC
for Robin
On that frosted January day,
you and I hiked north
along the Mississippi shore
on a trail marked well before us.
Footfall tapestries etched in snow
wove tales of assiduous commerce
of hosts of fur-cloaked cousins:
the playful step-slide gambit of an otter -
rabbit paw tracks by the score.
A bald eagle soared above singing ripples
in quest of a mid-day meal.
The distant staccato cadence
of a pileated woodpecker
echoed off the limestone bluffs
on that January afternoon.
Dusk-light washed the western sky
in pastel gold and crimson hues.
A coal barge heading south
thundered against the floes,
scattering ice across the channel,
then vanished beyond the bend.
And we like bargemen at their tillers,
set our southward course
retracing footprints in the snow -
back to the world of clocks and enterprise.
January, 2011
Nov 13, 2015
Nov 13, 2015 at 6:14 AM UTC
The movie shows
an innocent man,
misguided, perhaps,
but well intentioned
killing a creature
he thought to be a pest
and full of remorse
for the unhappiness he caused
In fact,
the man who killed Mijbil
never confessed
never repented
did it for gain
as otter pelts
were worth a bob or two.
A tiny ghost
haunts a ditch
by a single track road
in Scotland
And the vanished marshes of Iraq
know which version of events
to believe.
Jan 16, 2013
Jan 16, 2013 at 2:26 PM UTC
Mountains’ majesty
a cave of amethyst brews
confidence in its own perfection
near the peak peeking into the
crayon colored clouds.
Desire for a moment free from earth
where right above our heads
the world is colorfully candid
through a foggy wine-stained film.
Glossy sun through glossy eyes
entices the mind enough
to lift legs one thousand and two
steps up the mountain
coiling through indigo trees
on turquoise trails until
we pass the purple threshold
where it’s best to pass the time.
Pomegranate lips smile
stretching pomegranate skin
yours tastes like otter pops and ***
mine I imagine is similar
with a hint of bad decisions.
This reality is unrealistically appetizing
contorting trails contort minds
peaking at the sunset so close
I swear we’re almost there.
Oct 23, 2013
Oct 23, 2013 at 2:55 PM UTC
i saw a little otter swimming in a brook
i got a little closer so i could take a look
he was having fun chasing all the fish
for the little otter this was his favorite dish
he was very friendly and wanted me to play
so i played with him to pass the time away
he was very happy he had company
he had found a friend and that friend was me
then he swam away in to his otter hole
he was getting tired poor little soul
i waved and said goodbye and let him go to sleep
in his otter home so very long and deep
Mar 26, 2014
Mar 26, 2014 at 10:22 AM UTC
Somewhere between the dream of what it could be
and what it wanted to be, this poem hightailed it
out of town. Down the road it went, careening into
hedgerows, jostling small birds from their resting
time. Running for all it's worth, out to the sea cliffs
then arrested, stock still, before all that immensity.
Chagrined by such a rash attempt at escape, even
blushing a bit, it wondered about strange things:
What would it be like to be a badger? To always be
dressed in all those lovely stripes? To never have bad
wardrobe days? Or what about an otter, with such
strong muscles, and an utter delight for swimming?
To never really feel the cold? These are the things a
poem can wonder about, when it isn't quite sure, just
right then, in the present moment, how to be a poem.
Sep 7, 2015
Sep 7, 2015 at 7:26 PM UTC
Deer loved one
Please bear with me,
owl bee with ewe as soon as possum bull.
Rhino that things have been on paws lately
bat remember I toad you;
Toucan always find me some plaice warm in your heart
if I'm not lion there beside you.
Giraffe nothing to fear, no one can break the lynx we've made.
Mine is a love that'll never panda, narwhal it
hound any other sole but jaws and yours alone.
You're the porpoise I wake up every morning.
Wren all otter things are bleak, you're my ray of sunshine.
You let minnow weevil always have each other.
With you, newt time passes but stops still.
Love you with vole of my heart
ant i'll never desert you.
Until hen Gobi good
Yours truly
...
Feb 4, 2017
Feb 4, 2017 at 6:40 PM UTC
Sheesh!
I'm wetter than Lobster's sweater
Damp as Dolphin's socks
Dripping like Killer-whale's bikini bottoms
That she left to dry on some rocks.
I'm soggy as Otter's pockets
And soaked as Sea-lion's dungarees
Moist as the Trout's lipglossed pout
Saturated like an Eel's Levi jeans
;-p
May 8, 2014
May 8, 2014 at 9:36 PM UTC
228
Blazing in Gold and quenching in Purple
Leaping like Leopards to the Sky
Then at the feet of the old Horizon
Laying her spotted Face to die
Stooping as low as the Otter’s Window
Touching the Roof and tinting the Barn
Kissing her Bonnet to the Meadow
And the Juggler of Day is gone
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