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"parrotfish" poems
Lone leatherback cruises up from the deep, pausing on the fragile reef to feast ancient eyes upon the show, a bright parade laid out below butterfly couples paired for life, graceful angels in black and white stripe brilliant clowns and their toxic lovers, a plodding gang of giant groupers puffers bob like comic balloons, humble gobies on every menu beaked parrotfish grinding the coral down, in the ears a constant sound cowfish blowing puckered kisses, sea stars catching fishy wishes white-tipped, hammerhead, tiger sharks, triggerfish mean bite worse than their bark untamed unicorns too wild to ride, dogfish snapping, biting alongside coral trout color-shifting fools, attracting ladies in dull-hued schools **** headed wrasse rumbling through, thick lips mumbling go get a room sea horses nod in labyrinth caves, razor-toothed eels lying in wait if tentacled embrace should be your fate, nudibranchs will light the way to a place of bliss, none of this can exist, without the builders coral and algae bewildered, the ways of man egotistical rising ocean temperatures, carbon emissions, and el Niño victim of abundant greed, say goodbye to the Great Barrier Reef so massive is this magical place, one can see it from outer space astronauts witness its demise, ninety-percent barren, bleached bone white.
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Apr 27, 2016
Apr 27, 2016 at 1:58 PM UTC
Reef
Hungry. In the silence, of this afternoon, they arrive, ready to feed children who wait in nest high above. Their high whistle dancing, pierces the soundscape These mejiros--yellow with sharp white eyes, Comb through hibiscus bush Finding a meal Hidden within Like  parrotfish Munching through coral reef, I sit under tree listening, Abruptly The seashells to my mind Fill with shrill sounds Of mothers scolding monsters, A quickening-- Their white eyes dart like fearful squid flying through brushy undercurrents. Underneath, The small lion cat Stalks the Hungry sounds In the bush the Hungry looking for Hungry
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Apr 26, 2019
Apr 26, 2019 at 9:22 PM UTC
The Hungry Looking for Hungry
Sunset lends its many shades as a dying day begins to fade the whites of clouds and parrotfish blues replaced by glorious fiery hues colours dance in the sky's cotillion of melting golds and sweet vermillion
0
Feb 7, 2023
Feb 7, 2023 at 8:36 AM UTC
Sunset Cotillion
He asked if I'd stay, and my silence trapped him like a mosquito in amber. The seconds rumbled past, unhurried glaciers, two hurricanes, a drought, and a war came and he was still rolling his joints, tapping on shoulders, asking soldiers for a light. When the sea rose and flooded the town, he sat in his swollen armchair exhaling smoke bubbles, while parrotfish gnawed at the carpet, and later, his eyes glazed with a tired sort of expectation when the manatees swam past in their solemn triumph over the suburbs, as if any one of the lumbering sea cows might come bearing my yes.
0
Jan 15, 2014
Jan 15, 2014 at 2:27 PM UTC
Flood
I like to think that I tried. But at the same time they used to like to think that the world was flat and that green eyes meant that you were cursed. I also like to think that I would go to the end of the galaxy for you, just so that I could fetch a few stars and bring them back to show you that not every light is burnt out yet. I like to think that the scars on both of our wrists will fade with time and will heal with care. But so far, the redness has not subsided. Your voice is still ringing in my ears. I’m not sure what you are saying, but you’re there. And you’re here. For the most part, you are everywhere. And if I could spend one more restless night curled in your arms so that I could kiss the inside of your wrist and hope for magic to appear, I could die tomorrow and be okay with that. My tombstone could be painted yellow and my corpse could grow flowers. All because I hoped for a little magic while the howling wind touched the windowpane and your breath quickened on my shoulder. I would let the coolness of your eyes take my memory back to the Bahamian sea. I would let the flutter of your eyelashes remind me of the rainbow parrotfish and the fire coral. I would let the salty softness of your skin sink into mine so that maybe I won’t be so sharp anymore. I would let myself drown in you and this time I wouldn’t call for help. I would save my last gasping breath to let you know how beautiful you are. Then I would succumb to your sea and I would sink to the bottom to let my corpse plant flowers in you.
0
Dec 10, 2013
Dec 10, 2013 at 12:59 AM UTC
2 a.m. on November 20th
I like to think that I tried. But at the same time they used to like to think that the world was flat and that green eyes meant that you were cursed. I also like to think that I would go to the end of the galaxy for you, just so that I could fetch a few stars and bring them back to show you that not every light is burnt out yet. I like to think that the scars on both of our wrists will fade with time and will heal with care. But so far, the redness has not subsided. Your voice is still ringing in my ears. I’m not sure what you are saying, but you’re there. And you’re here. For the most part, you are everywhere. And if I could spend one more restless night curled in your arms so that I could kiss the inside of your wrist and hope for magic to appear, I could die tomorrow and be okay with that. My tombstone could be painted yellow and my corpse could grow flowers. All because I hoped for a little magic while the howling wind touched the windowpane and your breath quickened on my shoulder. I would let the coolness of your eyes take my memory back to the Bahamian sea. I would let the flutter of your eyelashes remind me of the rainbow parrotfish and the fire coral. I would let the salty softness of your skin sink into mine so that maybe I won’t be so sharp anymore. I would let myself drown in you and this time I wouldn’t call for help. I would save my last gasping breath to let you know how beautiful you are. Then I would succumb to your sea and I would sink to the bottom to let my corpse plant flowers in you.
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Beneath the hidden water world of pristine turquoise seas, where sergeant majors flash their stripes and parrotfish swim free, they dashed before my outstretched hands, their world a paradise, now live within my secret world where memories are kept live. I float back to this world of bliss in my imaginings, a soothing world surrounding me where water gives me wings.   I float amidst this untouched world of grace and find a calm; a place inside of soothing peace where oft my soul finds balm.
0
Sep 17, 2019
Sep 17, 2019 at 3:51 PM UTC
MY HAPPY PLACE