"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.*
May 1, 2013
May 1, 2013 at 1:33 PM UTC
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.
Jan 23, 2019
Jan 23, 2019 at 12:16 PM UTC
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
Apr 26, 2019
Apr 26, 2019 at 9:22 PM UTC
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
Nov 14, 2012
Nov 14, 2012 at 1:04 AM UTC
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.
Aug 20, 2012
Aug 20, 2012 at 8:54 PM UTC
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)
Jun 11, 2015
Jun 11, 2015 at 5:26 PM UTC
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
Nov 14, 2017
Nov 14, 2017 at 5:09 AM UTC
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.
Aug 17, 2012
Aug 17, 2012 at 9:11 AM UTC
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.
Mar 12, 2016
Mar 12, 2016 at 5:59 AM UTC
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.
Jun 27, 2014
Jun 27, 2014 at 9:25 AM UTC
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
Sep 3, 2017
Sep 3, 2017 at 5:31 PM UTC
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
Jun 12, 2015
Jun 12, 2015 at 11:00 PM UTC
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.
Sep 11, 2018
Sep 11, 2018 at 8:48 PM UTC
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.
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.
Feb 2, 2013
Feb 2, 2013 at 6:07 AM UTC
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.
Jul 17, 2013
Jul 17, 2013 at 5:25 PM UTC
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
Dec 13, 2015
Dec 13, 2015 at 12:17 PM UTC
Touch the squid
Rub the squid
Taste the squid
Chase the squid
Love the squid
See the squid
You can even be the squid
Oct 21, 2016
Oct 21, 2016 at 9:19 PM UTC
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.
Apr 28, 2011
Apr 28, 2011 at 1:21 PM UTC
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
****
May 17, 2014
May 17, 2014 at 12:22 PM UTC
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
Jan 16, 2013
Jan 16, 2013 at 12:31 PM UTC
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.
Sep 24, 2014
Sep 24, 2014 at 11:26 AM UTC
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.
Mar 24, 2013
Mar 24, 2013 at 10:59 PM UTC
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
Mar 5, 2014
Mar 5, 2014 at 9:59 PM UTC