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"squid" poems
1 Backwater nymph, queen of serpentine black tresses flaunting its coconut oil gleam; envy of  leggy girls from the Western ghat mountains, and lissome  maidens from the plains, who can never eat as much fish, even if they wish. Wearing hibiscus flowers, on coiffure like hood of a king cobra, your coral lips  silently speak of hot peppery kisses, waiting for me at shaded corners. Your sultry body in me arouses desires, that could only be whispered in your ears. 2 On a coconut lagoon when we met, for the first time and spoke, non stop, as if we knew each other life long, I heard music in your words. Oh! in the tongue you spoke, I heard the cadence of a nightingale ecstatic, on its wings above the clouds, love had prompted us to fly above the storms. Your  gleaming coal black eyes, like silver hooks, tug at my heart strings, that makes music, only I can hear, you are a free flying lark, above Kerala's lush coconut coast, that extends from sea shore to the mountains. 3 **When we relished steaming brown rice, mixed with clarified butter, with spicy tuna curry, tasting so dainty, cooked in bubbling sweet coconut milk, my eyes like two crazy butterflies circled your face, a blossomed Champak*. Mashed cassava and roasted squid, melted on our tongues, in a perfect culinary language any one would understand without effort. 4 Your lips had cinnamon scent, spice land's boons, when we kissed we touched heaven of scents and spicy tastes. When our eyes fell on each other, near the ancient synagogue, the hay days of which is over, a long jasmine garland coiling your hair,     marked you different, from the  the ladies of your neighborhood,                                           surrounding you. How well you did pretend that you have never seen my face before! You have mastered love's cunning, and all the wily tricks to cheat the enemies of our fiery love my Freudian mind perfectly understood. Just imagine the brouhaha we would invite, when we elope, in the last boat, to Alappuzha, stealthily at midnight.*
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May 1, 2013
May 1, 2013 at 1:33 PM UTC
A love song for my Cochin* girl
1 Backwater nymph, queen of serpentine black tresses flaunting its coconut oil gleam; envy of  leggy girls from the Western ghat mountains, and lissome  maidens from the plains, who can never eat as much fish, even if they wish. Wearing hibiscus flowers, on coiffure like hood of a king cobra, your coral lips  silently speak of hot peppery kisses, waiting for me at shaded corners. Your sultry body in me arouses desires, that could only be whispered in your ears. 2 On a coconut lagoon when we met, for the first time and spoke, non stop, as if we knew each other life long, I heard music in your words. Oh! in the tongue you spoke, I heard the cadence of a nightingale ecstatic, on its wings above the clouds, love had prompted us to fly above the storms. Your  gleaming coal black eyes, like silver hooks, tug at my heart strings, that makes music, only I can hear, you are a free flying lark, above Kerala's lush coconut coast, that extends from sea shore to the mountains. 3 **When we relished steaming brown rice, mixed with clarified butter, with spicy tuna curry, tasting so dainty, cooked in bubbling sweet coconut milk, my eyes like two crazy butterflies circled your face, a blossomed Champak*. Mashed cassava and roasted squid, melted on our tongues, in a perfect culinary language any one would understand without effort. 4 Your lips had cinnamon scent, spice land's boons, when we kissed we touched heaven of scents and spicy tastes. When our eyes fell on each other, near the ancient synagogue, the hay days of which is over, a long jasmine garland coiling your hair,     marked you different, from the  the ladies of your neighborhood,                                           surrounding you. How well you did pretend that you have never seen my face before! You have mastered love's cunning, and all the wily tricks to cheat the enemies of our fiery love my Freudian mind perfectly understood. Just imagine the brouhaha we would invite, when we elope, in the last boat, to Alappuzha, stealthily at midnight.*
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61
The ocean, oh it looked so blue, shades of colour swimming around like clouds around the moon, The water, oh it looked so clean, but it was just the sun's reflection making it clear, Underneath the waves lay a graveyard, a promise of death, a promise of extinction, Tombs made of plastic, slathered in oil, steaming with toxic waste, and all the people know, The damage is unfolding faster than we are evolving, The turtles are ingesting plastic as if it were their only meal, begging for their fins to just be free, so they can dive through the sea, The seals are tangled in nets, lines and lures, plastic bags and packing bands, till they're tied to their grave as if life were just a brief phase, The seabirds skim the ocean waves for fish and squid, yet plastic is their only catch of the day, leaving them broken inside and out, and dead on the beaches we claim are our own, The whales are submerged beneath the sea, eating most things that they see, plastic, plastic everywhere beneath, not giving them much time before they can no longer breathe, The dolphins are gliding through the sea, taking what they can to eat, plastic as their only meal, tearing them apart from within, leaving them starving for weeks, till the grave is the only thing they see, Us humans are so weak, we can’t see how deep the pain seeps, but when nothing is left for us to eat, and the rich have nothing left to steal, we’ll end in the same graves as all the lives we could have healed.
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Jan 23, 2019
Jan 23, 2019 at 12:16 PM UTC
The oceans and the seas
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
heavy, deep and dark. louder, louder; the twofold pounding of clockwork respiration. thud, (thud-thud) goddess arms hang into the abyss, like dead weight. depth obscures, lesser life forms meander on their own, unaware of the wayward colossus. /lonely/ a shroud of antiquity suspended -- veiling the secret of ages. thud, [thud-thud] percussive life continues alone, out of time. evolving longing
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Nov 14, 2012
Nov 14, 2012 at 1:04 AM UTC
formerly known as giant squid
Sitting beneath a giant squid eating sushi. Watching the bubbles in my beer rising to the top of my glass. Lost in my dreams, from on top the canopy of life, living the moment with you. Time holds its breath as you sit beside and in me, with your disc jockey voice and your blue-grey eyes. I’m floating away in a glass of foam as you carry me away, surrounded by a sea of voices beneath a giant squid. Your hair rolls in a sea of auburn waves, caressing your face. Emotion welling in my heart, burning my soul. In the next room fire leaps from tables to light our way, to a place where love is remembered and memories kept.
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Aug 20, 2012
Aug 20, 2012 at 8:54 PM UTC
BENEATH A GIANT SQUID (IN NAKASHIMA’S)
let me equate my genitals to a predatory animal to illustrate my ****** prowess and mating standards in song: my vampire squid don't my vampire squid don't my vampire squid don't want none unless you got an anaconda *** my disdain for your personality and general mentality is also strong, simply because: i like *big ***** and i cannot lie you other sisters can't deny that when a boy walks in with a six pack and a hose thing in your face you get wet disembodying objectification, stereotypical representation, hedonistic utilitarianism, and *** ed with some rhyme: black boy sippin' white wine put my fist in him like a civil rights sign then he came like aaaaah! (1)
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Jun 11, 2015
Jun 11, 2015 at 5:26 PM UTC
lyrical sexism in a parallel universe
My god is love Your god is God I know it sounds odd I wish to be cod That swim through your veins Until I go insane Invading your mind So I may know your kind I have to tip my hat When you say the world is flat And I shift into a stiffer constitution When you say you don't believe in evolution My love is strictly fundamental Our differences infinitesimal I cannot deny This temptation inside This inflation of mine I want to walk with you like Jesus If in that moment you could freeze us I'd believe forever Through any endeavor That two gods were merged And true odds were purged My life would be surged Into perfection By a reception Love is a fabled fraud on the scene Until I find a god in the machine You heretically hide in between Fields of green and wet dreams Your smile takes me there To realize we're no pair So I become Cthulhu In order to fool you When you're the giant squid And I'm just a kid If I want to be caught in your tendrils I'll have to work on my fundamentals I dream of Athena After you make Cupid look stupid While holding a noose With the power of Zeus But I still want more To hammer like Thor Yet after all my plotting I'm still frozen like Skadi When I face a titanic task I wear a panicked mask Obtaining a reluctant martyr's luck When my emotions run hot as **** I face the wrath of god Inside your cattle **** So I wait like the Buddha Wishing I never knew ya
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Nov 14, 2017
Nov 14, 2017 at 5:09 AM UTC
Gods
Hidden under the honeysuckle and hibiscus Lies a stone. And as I sit, drinking a gin and tonic Looking over the spent plates where crusty bread fried calamari, which is a fancy word for squid, and two Oysters Rockefeller sat until recently consumed by two parents both in that awkward state of freedom and longing when their child is at camp, out past the ducks on granite rocks puffing themselves up flapping their wings towards afternoon sun on Winnipesaukee my thoughts and eyes are drawn back to the wheel of stone leaning against the rotting wall of railroad ties covered in a remoulade of Honeysuckle Rose of Sharon and other viney things that are unidentifiable to me. It has been painted during its time but the paint is faded and chipped and the feeling is that the stone has outlived the painter. Yet I do wonder. What was its job 50, 100, 200 years ago? Was it in a mill? Did it lie flat, grinding? Did it roll, upright, crushing things? What else did they use round stones for? Is this what retirement for a working stone is? Cast to the side, forgotten hidden under the honeysuckle and hibiscus in an alley next to a waterside Wolfboro restaurant where parents sit Looking at Winnipesaukee over spent plates of bread, squid and Oysters Rockefeller thinking of a child at camp.
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Aug 17, 2012
Aug 17, 2012 at 9:11 AM UTC
Stone
A scuba diver, head first like a dolphin, goes in to the ocean, 100 feet down in semi-darkness finds this apparition something beautiful to behold in motion, really really big and mysterious it appears gliding gracefully spewing wonderment, inviting reverence from all kinds of marine life Clearly apologetic, for being out of place, though he has encroached, in to a world though not far from the sea surface, yet in a depth where human has no place all his scientific temper got  evaporated a simple villager now, gripped by wonder. All he could think of anyone fitting in to such magnificence was God Almighty,himself. "How do you do God?" he stutters, aware that in plankton filled darkness the mighty man is at the mercy of the behemoth, looming large above. The phenomenon in question, ***** whale"as we know him, smiles and burps happily "Fantastic" then he dives 6000 feet down, looking for a colossal squid, succulent to be sure the whole reason for him to play God at this depth for sea creatures that lose bearing in the haze of challenging depths.
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Mar 12, 2016
Mar 12, 2016 at 5:59 AM UTC
Who plays the God deep under
the sun beams out of every single one of your pores and i’ve never seen a smile quite as convincing as yours but one day the pictures painted in your eyes will crack; maybe stumble and fall and i’ve never seen a face as sincere and pure. the world is your oyster, your catfish and squid and your delicate soul is a masterpiece, it is. i don’t wanna see your veins blow up in your wrist or your hand pulling your hair out, tainted with fear your life isn’t a movie it’s a merry-go-round and the sickness you feel will one day die down, just hold on to hope because it’s all we have left, hold on to my jacket, my sweater, my vest. i’m not a prophet nor a saint, not an angel at all i’m merely a souvenir of disjointed, brooding thoughts but you’re captivating and like a gust of wind, i’ll hold your hand and take care of the strings that are attached to you, like a puppet of beauty, don’t let your heartache deface your sanity because i know you’re tired and aching and scared but take my hand, hold it tight and walk with me into candlelight.
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Jun 27, 2014
Jun 27, 2014 at 9:25 AM UTC
trust
Sometimes          I feel a well                    dug deep          into my heart   I try to stop it but it quickly becomes ocean   and overflows        into great tsunami           rises over all the levees              rushes past dams                                  breaks down tall                    city structures,               edifices crumbling            in its path      all the squid and octopi     skitting forth in wild pulses, tentacles entangled      in doorways and rooves         slipping through narrow                 window-openings                    as they pour ink                        in clouds,                          shifting shapes                           in cephalopod excitement                             while blue whales                             and humpbacks                                breach over bridges,                              phosphorescent jellies                           light up                        the dark streets of                       my arteries                      electric eels illuminate                     the alleyways of                    desolation's thick syrup                      and I cannot stop it even                             if I wanted to,                    these darkened,                      swirling waves I am both floating and flying like a jumping manta ray curling around the ferries bobbing in seahorse iridescence weaving between buses as if they were corals And when the storm subsides, colorful rockpools form, rich in diversity It is there, in between the multicolored ***** and succulent shellfish, in a mermaid's        voluptuous smile and turquoise eye that I see you, so crystal clear                 I could reach out                                     and bring you to me,                                    holding you tight                          until the                 gentle break      of           morning
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Sep 3, 2017
Sep 3, 2017 at 5:31 PM UTC
tsunami
Sometimes          I feel a well                    dug deep          into my heart   I try to stop it but it quickly becomes ocean   and overflows        into great tsunami           rises over all the levees              rushes past dams                                  breaks down tall                    city structures,               edifices crumbling            in its path      all the squid and octopi     skitting forth in wild pulses, tentacles entangled      in doorways and rooves         slipping through narrow                 window-openings                    as they pour ink                        in clouds,                          shifting shapes                           in cephalopod excitement                             while blue whales                             and humpbacks                                breach over bridges,                              phosphorescent jellies                           light up                        the dark streets of                       my arteries                      electric eels illuminate                     the alleyways of                    desolation's thick syrup                      and I cannot stop it even                             if I wanted to,                    these darkened,                      swirling waves I am both floating and flying like a jumping manta ray curling around the ferries bobbing in seahorse iridescence weaving between buses as if they were corals And when the storm subsides, colorful rockpools form, rich in diversity It is there, in between the multicolored ***** and succulent shellfish, in a mermaid's        voluptuous smile and turquoise eye that I see you, so crystal clear                 I could reach out                                     and bring you to me,                                    holding you tight                          until the                 gentle break      of           morning
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65
WE MAY NOT BE THE PERFECT PEOPLE NO **** WE'RE ALL ****** UP BE WE WILL STAND UP FOR EACH OTHER CAUSE WHO THE **** ELSE WILL? WHOSE GONNA TAKE YOUR HAND, WHILE YOU SOB ON THE GROUND, AND PULL YOU UP? FRIENDS, THATS WHO WILL
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Jun 12, 2015
Jun 12, 2015 at 11:00 PM UTC
The Albino Alligator, the Squid and the Boar
grow a beard... buy a jazz double-bass... start stroking it... attempt to look pensive... and then write some Cockney comedy... and?    **** Oxford.       **** 'em good; can't be, ******* arsed...           where's a ******* jazz double bass the kind i need to stand up to play?! where?!     gone, "nowhere"...         Achilles would sooner find a tortoise, you ******* half-whit bull bullock base catcher... yummy yummy... no ******* double whammy if there ain't a greasy dough nnnnnnnn in my mouth oozing a squid's mating call... from the Jules Verne estimate of how... big the ******* could become... oh please...    **** is a conjunction word... akin to and...      spew effect, regurgitation, founded upon... so... so... farting in a public place is less offensive than uttering a word of oath?! **** me...     more **** less ***** images... i guess that's how you habitually attack Christian h'america... **** **** **** and impose a curb of a ***** show me the puppies kitchen ***** Kentucky style **** ******* wankers... dreaming up some **** in long lost Cockney rhyming slang for some: willkommen zu verirrt amstetten... .................... ................................... .............. ................ SCHMILE... boorish ******* gnomes dancing the leprechaun gamblers' dance... skivvy ************* sure... censor the words... but god forbid you censor showing all the ******* because... if you do? guess what... i might forget my farming impulse... of imagining a a cleavage to also imply a pork buttocks... funny... how a show of cleavage is synonymous with a show of pork buttocks... and then i begin thinking of milking... which throws a ***** **** out with the baby and the bathwater and... i'm shinging... what's that name of the place?! New Orleans! yeah... like some minstrel in that part of the world that part of the world that's a ******** what?! you spew on me... i spew on you... we can at least exchange... what we "love" about each other... but i implore! i implore! visit Warsaw! alone... no, not with other people... ah-loan - a-l-o-n-e.... i'll be your companion, when you peer at your shadow, and attempt, to pretend, to disappear.
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Sep 11, 2018
Sep 11, 2018 at 8:48 PM UTC
Wankers United
grow a beard... buy a jazz double-bass... start stroking it... attempt to look pensive... and then write some Cockney comedy... and?    **** Oxford.       **** 'em good; can't be, ******* arsed...           where's a ******* jazz double bass the kind i need to stand up to play?! where?!     gone, "nowhere"...         Achilles would sooner find a tortoise, you ******* half-whit bull bullock base catcher... yummy yummy... no ******* double whammy if there ain't a greasy dough nnnnnnnn in my mouth oozing a squid's mating call... from the Jules Verne estimate of how... big the ******* could become... oh please...    **** is a conjunction word... akin to and...      spew effect, regurgitation, founded upon... so... so... farting in a public place is less offensive than uttering a word of oath?! **** me...     more **** less ***** images... i guess that's how you habitually attack Christian h'america... **** **** **** and impose a curb of a ***** show me the puppies kitchen ***** Kentucky style **** ******* wankers... dreaming up some **** in long lost Cockney rhyming slang for some: willkommen zu verirrt amstetten... .................... ................................... .............. ................ SCHMILE... boorish ******* gnomes dancing the leprechaun gamblers' dance... skivvy ************* sure... censor the words... but god forbid you censor showing all the ******* because... if you do? guess what... i might forget my farming impulse... of imagining a a cleavage to also imply a pork buttocks... funny... how a show of cleavage is synonymous with a show of pork buttocks... and then i begin thinking of milking... which throws a ***** **** out with the baby and the bathwater and... i'm shinging... what's that name of the place?! New Orleans! yeah... like some minstrel in that part of the world that part of the world that's a ******** what?! you spew on me... i spew on you... we can at least exchange... what we "love" about each other... but i implore! i implore! visit Warsaw! alone... no, not with other people... ah-loan - a-l-o-n-e.... i'll be your companion, when you peer at your shadow, and attempt, to pretend, to disappear.
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104
Pocket watch, I tick well. The streets are lizardly crevices Sheer-sided, with holes where to hide. It is best to meet in a cul-de-sac, A palace of velvet With windows of mirrors. There one is safe, There are no family photographs, No rings through the nose, no cries. Bright fish hooks, the smiles of women Gulp at my bulk And I, in my snazzy blacks, Mill a litter of ******* like jellyfish. To nourish The cellos of moans I eat eggs -- Eggs and fish, the essentials, The aphrodisiac squid. My mouth sags, The mouth of Christ When my engine reaches the end of it. The tattle of my Gold joints, my way of turning ******* to ripples of silver Rolls out a carpet, a hush. And there is no end, no end of it. I shall never grow old. New oysters Shriek in the sea and I Glitter like Fontainebleu Gratified, All the fall of water an eye Over whose pool I tenderly Lean and see me.
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3.7k
******
Shade shifter, turn-me-red. Master the colors and trick the disguiser-- morphing electric skin. Make novelty probing into the dark unknown. Shake suiters with perfect control, of all the senses. In a savage land, or a rare spectacle of courage no under sea mountain is too strong. Or ocean to shallow to fill the hole, A schism dares to thunder. In a serene wave watched by a moon's cyclops gaze.
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Feb 2, 2013
Feb 2, 2013 at 6:07 AM UTC
Squid
Daisies in hair, freckles in laugh, Summer camp dandelions, Bubbles in the air. Cling like a koala to your back So I can fight off the pirates And the dinosaurs And the giant squid And my mother's meatloaf. Where do teachers go at night? Do they sleep in their classrooms? This caterpillar is my new best friend. But so is this firefly. But not that moth. Roll down hill into mud puddles of chocolate goo. Sing songs and jump on clouds like trampolines. Mouth like an innocent firecracker; 3-2-1 blast off. Kissed and tucked and loved into bed. Dreaming of how good we're going to have it, Not knowing that we already did.
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Jul 17, 2013
Jul 17, 2013 at 5:25 PM UTC
Kids
A giant squid is friend to none Fighting, killing all the same Only strength and steady aim Can send the squidly monster on the run A giant squid, a fearsome foe Quick like snake and strong like cow Fight the beast if you know how Otherwise it's time to go A tiny squid, a little friend Knows the key to tame the hulk Have him speak and do not sulk Tears won't save you from a squidly end Cheers for all, good times are on the way The giant squid, he meant no harm at all The tiny squid has saved us from the fall Bless his squidly wisdom on this day
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Dec 13, 2015
Dec 13, 2015 at 12:17 PM UTC
A Giant Squid is Friend to None
Touch the squid Rub the squid Taste the squid Chase the squid Love the squid See the squid You can even be the squid
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Oct 21, 2016
Oct 21, 2016 at 9:19 PM UTC
More Squid Poems
Oh, a happy squid am i Such a happy squid Floating Drifting through the blue Feeling porous Not quite here How I dance away On billows of happiness This is the way To spend the day Laughing And carefree Oh, a happy squid am i Such a happy squid.
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Apr 28, 2011
Apr 28, 2011 at 1:21 PM UTC
Happy Squid
I just tasted a memory. BANG . slapped me on the tongue like a freight train out of a rip in space and time, of garlic and peppercorn chicken with jasmine rice , a clear broth and fresh cucumbers, a wedge of lime and chrysanthemum tea. oh .. my mouth , how could you spring this on me .. when i'm so far from the motherland... then they come thick and fast - thai iced tea , thai iced coco , thai iced coffee , thai lime soda .. papaya salad with sticky rice , Mango and coconut sticky rice , Roti with condensed milk and banana , coconut ice cream in a white bread bun with coconut sticky rice and peanuts, fresh fruits of rambutan and mangosteen for 30 baht a kilo......oh.....oh...who could forget the fried flat noodles , or the fried pastry's called explosion ***** oh... oh my heart..... my heart...... my stomach... calls out to you , oh glorious green curry with roti , morning congee with little pork ***** and soy sauce..... come to me my dumpling and noodles let me lick the chillies and sugar off my lips , may i taste once more the conception of such marvelous treats , unfathomable to the western palate , little sweet corn and flour discs cooked on a special cooker over a real fire...dried squid sold on the back of a bicycle , fried garlic with sticky rice , a pink soup ! I just had a taste memory ****
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May 17, 2014
May 17, 2014 at 12:22 PM UTC
Taste Memory
I lost my white Pigeon that resembled a white Dove- I lost him through death, death of my love- I assembled him of my lost father, for both now i cry- I am filled with the feelings of loss, lost and of I- I am afraid to live and afraid to die. My Pigeon so strong just like my dad- is remembered fondly, in the love i had- Still , he waited patiently, to witness a change, but his health faltered quickly as my mind did derange- Stoic and Beautiful my Lost White Pigeon Dove- I curse what has befallen you , my father, - I release you from the duty of my love- Rest Peacefully Pigeon, Dad, Scott (Squid), Denise, Paul, Bill, and Grandma
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Jan 16, 2013
Jan 16, 2013 at 12:31 PM UTC
White Love Pigeon Dove
Out on the horizon A line of glowing green And the squids all flock towards it That flourescent glean What is it to them do you think? An unknown beacon emitting warmth Do they think they'll find love As they all commute north I suppose they are tricked and trapped and tangled in nets Blinded by the light Drawn towards the threat From the green glowing beacon Their path was set Into the end and out of the wet.
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Sep 24, 2014
Sep 24, 2014 at 11:26 AM UTC
Squid Lights
i just want to live in a small little cottage in alaska studying giant squid and sharks with three dogs. a husky, a samoyed and a great pyreneese. and a beautiful little girl, named valerie. valerie is my dream, she's one of the reasons i'm excited to have kids. she's going to be great, i can just tell. i already love her. but i don't want her to grow up to resent me all kids end up hating their parents and moving to some obscure place like alaska. please, valerie. don't hate me. i will love you unconditionally. no one's going to hurt my baby girl please, baby, i promise you you can tell me whatever. i won't judge you. you can be queer, trans, whatever. i'll call you vladimir if you want. anything, you can be anything. i'll love you forever. please valerie please come soon.
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Mar 24, 2013
Mar 24, 2013 at 10:59 PM UTC
valerie ann
Oceans fish stars, that are overhead, swimming; those dying masses of sun, looking the night sky to pieces. Silver dots barely skimming deep dwelling currents that invisibly ply sky netting that makes the sea’s mirror, a gridded field filled with shoals of stars setting small fires that out last the jettings of Amber Jack and squid around a sea turtle who they easily tire. Filled with eggs, ready to be this moon’s batch on a brief beach made white by the nights contrast. Not all turtles will inevitably hatch. Those who will, will live if lucky and fast. The stars, that insignificantly wink, ride the currents that rise and sink
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Mar 5, 2014
Mar 5, 2014 at 9:59 PM UTC
Oceans Fish Stars