"squids" poems
**** this coffee's really sour
I've been drinking it for half an hour
Wanna hear a poem
Wanna hear a poem
Wanna hear a poem about a cauliflower
[Cauliflower's foolish
It doesn't fit the theme
I'm sick of all your nonsense
I'm tired of your memes]
Woman selling knickknacks
I'm not eating tic-tacs™
Your words were put in brackets
Check out my rhyming tactics
I see that you're not one for fun
Your a cloudy day, I'm the shining sun
My absurdity
Is the key
To happy for eternity
[You're clearly deeply broken
And only you can cure
Your fundamental problems
But really I'm not sure
The only one who conquers
Is one who really tries
So stop with the gorillas
Since everything will die]
Maybe you don't understand
My foolishness goes hand in hand
With making things that are the best
Like giant squids and turnip fests
Order, chaos, streets and bogs
Them, White, Color, Talking Frog
Odd on top but clear below
From ash and fire life will grow
Then again I see it's true
I am right and so are you
Maybe we both have a claim
In this crazy poet game
**
Okay]
That didn't rhyme!
[It doesn't have to]
I love you
[Mmm hmm]
Sep 7, 2016
Sep 7, 2016 at 5:46 PM UTC
"The elephant seal is an unsightly creature.
I heard it today on TV
Then a special on smart and wonderful dolphins
Who never would wish to be me"
"All this rubbery ******* I use for a face
That my mother just says she adores
Is a hideous masking of elephantine proportions
That nobody else could afford"
You're not ugly, oh dear elephant seal!
You are mountains more graceful than that
Don't ever wish you were a rabbit
A turtle, a dog, or a curious cat
So a parrot can talk,
But it gets him in trouble
And a hamster is cuddly
But untidy--makes his home in the rubble
Sure, you haven't got fur
but you haven't got mange!
You're spick-and-span as your ocean
Your sea home-on-the-range
And your nose is real big
But you've never been nosey
You are much too polite
To make others un-cozy
I have watched you go swimming
You're majestic as waves
And you love to explore
All the watery caves
You have beautiful eyes
And I think you're just swell
Look, someday, you'll be happy
You'll be so proud as well
"Well I guess I am funny
I like to make friends
I've gotten good at catching squids
And other popular trends"
See--that's just the spirit!
You're as magnificent as any
But what makes you so great?
You're more humble than many
Mar 1, 2017
Mar 1, 2017 at 2:09 AM 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
Vietnam, you uncovered my soul
Gave me a song, a direction smog
Looked at the pandora box I held
Unstripped my flames up temples
A hologram of the graded existence
Seasoned in explosions of burnt haste
Decked on buses,ducked in valleys
Chilled bays, overly paddled kayaks
Such sweet taste of the Halong bay
Undreamt mist of the skies stared
Fishing squids and bellied jellyfish
The soil, the sound,an orotund playlist
Mar 11, 2016
Mar 11, 2016 at 2:53 PM UTC
We'd found an old Boche dug-out, and he knew,
And gave us hell, for shell on frantic shell
Hammered on top, but never quite burst through.
Rain, guttering down in waterfalls of slime,
Kept slush waist-high and rising hour by hour,
And choked the steps too thick with clay to climb.
What murk of air remained stank old, and sour
With fumes of whizz-bangs, and the smell of men
Who'd lived there years, and left their curse in the den,
If not their corpses...
There we herded from the blast
Of whizz-bangs, but one found our door at last,
Buffeting eyes and breath, snuffing the candles,
And thud! flump! thud! down the steep steps came thumping
And sploshing in the flood, deluging muck -
The sentry's body; then his rifle, handles
Of old Boche bombs, and mud in ruck on ruck.
We dredged him up, for killed, until he whined
'O sir, my eyes - I'm blind, - I'm blind, I'm blind!'
Coaxing, I held a flame against his lids
And said if he could see the least blurred light
He was not blind; in time he'd get all right.
'I can't' he sobbed. Eyeballs, huge-bulged like squids',
Watch my dreams still; but I forgot him there
In posting Next for duty, and sending a scout
To beg a stretcher somewhere, and flound'ring about
To other posts under the shrieking air.
* * *
Those other wretches, how they bled and spewed,
And one who would have drowned himself for good, -
I try not to remember these things now.
Let dread hark back for one word only: how
Half-listening to that sentry's moans and jumps,
And the wild chattering of his broken teeth,
Renewed most horribly whenever crumps
Pummelled the roof and slogged the air beneath, -
Through the dense din, I say, we heard him shout
'I see your lights!' But ours had long died out.
2.5k
How much i love it,
she knows well,
eyes curiously down-
at me eating squid;
the eight armed cephalopod,
soft and dainty to eat,
in more ways than one,
now spread eagled in my front,
"I could eat you too
if you wish" I banter,
she looks at me mischievously as if
it's more than a joke,
and shakes head.
"Would I be as dainty
as such a fish?" she asks,
as if she is serious to get an answer,
flashing those expressive eyelashes,
clearly in a way I can see what it means!
"Yes, bilateral symmetry I have,
but not eight arms, is it okey?"
She knows all about my tastes,
(who would, if she doesn't?)
squids, octopus and the like
and clams...ooh, i love them, so much
bit sticky stuff, yes I like to mess up a bit,
that way, isn't it exciting?
I relish, squid and cuttle fish,
till I am fully satisfied.
Was she a fish in my waters?
To tell you the secret: she wasn't.
she was an octopus!
wily? yes, but lovable.
who strung me with,
her soft, supple tentacles!
Imposing her sweet wishes
on my senses,
eventually her wishes
become my commands,
to the end,
till she asks,
no more.
)O(
Aug 14, 2012
Aug 14, 2012 at 8:46 AM UTC
things
will
get
better
when
my arthritis abates
when
I'm better looking
when
I'm smarter
when
I'm taller with better bones
when
my hair grows back
nice and wavy
when
I lose thirty pounds of fat
when
I'm filthy rich
when
my eyes are bluer
when
i have a PhD
without guile
and i don't have any
ticks ticks ticks
and no longer
still hate my dead father
who never let me forget that
the hand that feeds me
is the boot that kicks me
things
will
get
better
when
I'm celebrated for my myriad talents
when
my singing brings the house down
when
I'm forty years younger
and know everything I know now
when
I'm a world class boxer and poet
and can dance
the pachanga
with the stars
and exhibit my edgy brilliant sculpture
and elegant paintings
at the museum of modern art
and live in a big Malibu beach house
a big chested hero
with a nice suntan
and a Bugatti Chiron
in the driveway
tough guy tattoos
and four hundred dollar sunglasses
things
will
get
better
when
all men admire me
and
all women adore me
and want to take me home
for ***** kiss cocktails
leg shows
and sing giggling
throwing fluttering kisses
at me
during their fluffy bubble baths
while I photograph them
with my perfect
digital
memory
and
things
will
get
better
when
I can win marathons
running backward
while smoking a cigar
never tiring
and party like hell boy
inhaling drugs and *****
without the slightest ill effects
when
I can beat gravity
and fly at will
when
my health is perfect
and my teeth brush themselves
and my breath smells like bay ***
when
I'm never too hot or cold
but always cool
when
I can breathe underwater and kiss fishes
and ride neptunium whales
and giant squids
and fly through deep space
without a rocket ship
hows it hangin xeno
when
I cant help
but love everybody all the time
and all animals are happy
and have plenty to eat
that's not each other
and I play with lions
who kiss to lick me
and everywhere I go
death war and disease
are vanquished
and everybody is in ecstasy
when life is chocolate kisses
when
multiculturalism means
that everybody is falling in love with everybody
and kisses never cease
when trees are made of lollypops
and no one ever gets diabetes
and flowers dance to Latin rhythms
and everybody stops arguing about god
while in a state of immortal joy
that's
when
things
will
get
better!
Feb 3, 2017
Feb 3, 2017 at 4:23 PM UTC
If you wanna be the same,
be the same with me --
I swear we’ll always
blend right in.
And when you say
you don’t like Jaws,
I'll still be a Peeping Tom
behind your books.
When you lie, Maggie-Pie,
about the movies you’ve seen,
it makes the Tom Waits you like
seem contrived.
Degenerate drug kids,
too high to be a star,
in love with moments.
Give me my moments,
my lifeless promise
to always have a car
and insurance.
If you wanna be lazy,
be lazy with me --
I swear we won’t
ever do ****
And when you bop
your head to Kendrick,
I’ll watch you melt
underneath the strobe.
Place your finger on a globe,
tell me where you think
you could be, then tell me
about your perceived
self-worth.
Degenerate punk kids,
with more ink than squids,
and a tip-jar future.
Give me my future,
my hurried ten years;
you know my twenties;
you know my reason.
Give me my reason,
give me my reason, give me my reason.
Feb 14, 2017
Feb 14, 2017 at 3:44 AM UTC
I'm not worthy
of his
total affection adoration enthrallment
it isn't fair for him, truthfully, to have the one
who is scared of all that.
terrified to not be the girl who
belongs to everyone & no one at once
the girl who is writhing
trying to hold tight & strangle
the guilt grief regret shame
but also driven by
anxiety that all my writing
suddenly needs to tell everyone
that I am trying & anxiety
that I am so moved by him, the
affected girl who can't
function
walking into the sunset hand in hand.
I seem to fight every step
as if I'm not sure
I feel safe
being near the ocean that lets roam unchained & wild the
sharks, giant squids, leviathans & my beloved giant leatherback sea turtles
so endangered & dear.
The anxiety of the surprise contract to
dedicate every poem to him
& plan a future
without planning an end, too.
Jun 19, 2013
Jun 19, 2013 at 9:46 PM UTC
Let's not make any bones about it,
For I have no bones to pick.
Ah, and I've got you there,
for I am a sack of meat.
O, to live amongst the squids!
and be so jubilant and jiggly,
why, no pleasure's ever met my eye,
as that leathery wriggling beak.
Am I to blame for my misfortune?
Surely so, but of you I must ask,
what misfortune? Am I to assume
that because I have agency, I must fail?
Nonsense! And how fitting.
American manifest. Living
in a land, for himself, most befitting.
Laugh with me, for we live in Clown World.
This is the power of
the untamed duffle bag.
Vicious! O how vicious, his maw,
his all consuming zipper unzipped.
But my zipper, too, is unzipped.
Such a faux pas passes not
in our society, unforgiving,
unforgivable.
Original sin.
Dec 15, 2017
Dec 15, 2017 at 10:03 PM UTC
He’s journeyed many a treacherous route, scuttled ancient-ships,
ridden the skyscraper-troughs of crystal-seas, hunted enemies,
alone.
He’s guided by the lamps of the Heavens, the countless stars,
the sun and the moon, calculated the astrolabe,
alone.
He’s braved hurricane winds, the triangles of Bermuda, windless days,
leviathans & squids, scavenging whites and other such hungry things,
alone.
He’s got the strength of a Goliath, keeps his tenderness guarded under lock and skeleton-key,
his wounds bleed forever in the brokenness of a self-induced solitary confinement,
alone.
He’s the truest mariner, fights black-tempests within, protects himself from overexposure,
from another broken heart,
alone.
Dec 21, 2013
Dec 21, 2013 at 1:55 PM UTC
Ecstatic in the sea breeze,
a magnanimous moment of
interloper pride ******* the day.
Uncoil—my heart, my chin,
my unglamorous abstinence
enforced by fear.
This is no lapse, but fury
and fortitude forging me
in the crucible of love.
Yet again I am up against it—
the stage of floating eyes and
overcooked feelings pawing
at my attention like
squids in a pool.
Ink and jelly in a room temperature soup
swirling and sloshing under
the authority of a rented room.
By gods, this time I’ll make it work—
plant leaves and blunderbusses
leaning against teal paint,
the sun really is on a fishhook.
Stand apart from me then and
judge the waters for what they are—
a storm too small to surface
in a sky too big to swallow.
I’m sweating in it
and the alarm clock is going off.
*bleet
bleet
bleet*
Too deep to turn back.
Too tired to go on.
This is where the end begins,
in the middle of it
with no ground at all.
Sep 3, 2025
Sep 3, 2025 at 7:47 PM UTC
The ocean, of deep blue mysteries,
Sways in a crushing pool of wonder and histories.
Full of life, larger than small,
The fish swim together, one and all.
It stretches further than the eye can see,
The ocean is entirely free.
Waves that crash on the rocky outcrop,
They will never not move, they will never not stop.
The Ocean gleams off the bright sunset,
Sharks that lurk beneath, propose a threat.
Seaweed dangles beneath the broad sea,
Seagulls sway above flying in a spree.
Lifeguards rest on the shore ahead,
Crisp sea air blows against their head.
Dolphins, Squids, Seals and more,
Wait until you hear the whale’s mighty roar.
I love the ocean; it’s beautiful to me,
I just hope you see the same, I plea.
Dec 2, 2013
Dec 2, 2013 at 12:47 PM UTC
And I heard my name called throughout the sea
Until my fore thoughts banished me
Into the harsh evergreen
My dreams seem to flow and vanish
In and out of light
Darkness wraps around me,
And bright were my eyes
But all things must go.
Even the brightest of stars must die
And fade into the sky
To make room for another
Like you or I.
Feb 5, 2014
Feb 5, 2014 at 2:42 AM UTC
I'm twenty-one, I don't really know what I'm doing.
I have direction, I'm pointed the way I want my life to go.
I know life has its twists and turns, that worries me.
The future is beautiful in black,
So that's what it typically wears.
I don't know what it holds, no one does.
I want to know in all seriousness where all the giant squids are.
Because some days that's how I feel.
I'm a big-ass squid in a very shallow pond.
Most days however, I feel like a cat
If I were an actual cat; what color would I be?
Not that it matters.
I bet I'd be a short-haired cat.
Would my cat eat squid?
How can I break my addiction to anime, caffiene, nicotine, and jumping to conclusions?
What would nine year old me do if he found out that in twelve years his best friend would be the only person he hates?
What do you, the reader, think I am?
Am I man?
Or
Am I beast?
What does she see in me?
Why does it feel like I'm always looking into a mirror after a long hot shower?
You know;
When the glass is covered with condensation,
Why am I so afraid to go back to school?
What do I even want to do?
How can I change the people around me?
How do I keep those I hold dear smiling?
I swear I'm happy; trust that I would never lie about that.
I'm just so lost.
Dr. Pepper tastes so good but it reminds me of my old poetry.
Who knows what will happen in ten years, two days, three hours, fifteen minutes and twenty-six seconds?
More over, who gives a ****
Perhaps this is just my quarter life crisis.
Dec 4, 2015
Dec 4, 2015 at 8:42 PM UTC
the raised lakes of Beijing
are fitted with the finest glass walls
parents go there to unload their unwanted children
the squids of the lakes grab hold of the children,
hug them
adopt them
teach them to breathe
people walk by, pay no attention
but the glass walls are built tall
wiped clear
to the point where i can’t help but to notice.
the orange plumed tentacles
grown straight from the children’s backs
pulsing like a flame
like a phoenix
like a poppy’s bloom
smeared by the color of the water’s haze
or the tourist’s awe-shot eyes.
Nov 14, 2019
Nov 14, 2019 at 6:14 PM UTC
Too much poetry
So many lines
A bunch of words
Too little time
Confused by the lies
She yells out only in writing
Pouring out her pain
It rains storms and lightning
Cold showers for a dead flower
Hearts lost in this tug of war
She wants what she wants
So she gets what she gets
It all comes full circle
Remember this is a story of wits
Her poetry is deep
Defined by a lover
In a pool full of lnk
Squids blind each other
She finds discomfort in solitude
So she rooms his attitude
Lonely nights soon forgotten
Sublime to the stars
Its light ignited compassion
Redefined by her scars
I heard it all and read it all
She lives just across the hall
Red coated kisses
Caught him red handed
Where he falls on his knees
Every tear wasted
When yes slips from her lips
Yet another slit on her wrist
The towering love of a child
Ruined by mistreated wounds
Before it even reached the moon
Her power breached a tomb
Time is not treatment
It is cruelty
We get just enough to live
But not enough to learn
May 27, 2015
May 27, 2015 at 7:39 PM UTC
around the ring of fire
continents burn
in the blistering logic
of claims to islands and air spaces,
waters lapping on wrong shores
cultures and creeds
unearthed from a hazy past
The crew-cut dictator
still stands at attention
at a starving army decorated like peacocks
for a world watching
rockets out of fuel and fire
damp squids plonking in nearby oceans
decorated with plastic medals
sycophants
saluting goose steppers
with polished ironies
and propaganda to hold power
within themselves
the bonfire burns bright
as people perish without bread
crew-cut is unable to see them die
myopic vision and overseas education
he will also have to die one day
with porcelain soldiers
guarding his tombstone.
sad. anyone crying?
**** the ones that don't.
© Marshall Gass. All rights reserved, 2 months ago
Jul 1, 2014
Jul 1, 2014 at 4:08 PM UTC
i'm pretty **** sure you'd gobble this like i did, wolfish;
it's a reinvention of the original: sweet & sour...
but this is sweet & salty.
mmm...
rice noodles! rice nnn! that almost see-through
squids of tangles...
not egg noodles! not egg noodles!
rice! rice noodles!
and then we fry some bacon,
add a bit of mushrooms...
a few pinches of paprika...
and then the magic happens...
honey....
followed up by some soy sauce...
mmm, keep frying...
some pepper...
then nicely cut cherry tomatoes
to break apart the sweet from the salty with some
acidity,
and then some parsley to garnish.
woof!
went down like a storm, it probably took me less time to
down the bowl of noodles than i took to cook it...
but what an ingenious concept, rather than the classic
sweet & sour... sweet & salty...
comrade mao would have approved:
just think how simple it sounds...
it's not exactly, hoisin sauce,
honey
soy sauce
cherry tomatoes:
oh **** me... you need a buffer zone...
some sort of acidity...
if you were going to bottle it i'm sure citric salt
would do the job... but in real time? when you're actually
conjuring such a recipe? cherry tomatoes...
and no... egg noodles won't do... they're too heavy,
they won't soak up the juices... so you need the squid-like
tentacles of rice noodles... and yes, fry the concoction
in some chili infused olive oil.
a microcosmos in under 15 minutes...
the universe disappears... and the idea of a polyverse
is but a **** and a burp half an hour later.
May 4, 2017
May 4, 2017 at 12:54 PM UTC
1. The sun is God and I am covered in faith.
2. It’s me it’s hugging
3. The bonfires sneak into my nose.
The sun warms me from the cool wind.
Cooked marshmallows melt on my tongue filled with sugar and fluff.
The harsh squawking of the seagulls pound my ears
The sunset fills my eyes with an orange glow that sinks into the ocean
4. The cold tide is stroking my feet with it’s salty smell and it’s clear appearance as it quietly claps over the tops of my feet.
5. Tracy Alexander cuddles up with me on the beach of Huntington Beach, California.
6. The sweet song of the seagulls beautifully sing above me.
7. The crude and annoying birds squawk at us
8. Gnarly
9. Because we were big and wore big shoes.
10. He would need fifteen notebooks to complete the project
11. The dull knifes of weakness and innocence bent as we tried to cut our steak
12. We were as sad as squids
13. He flew through the air
14. Wilson walked through the forest
15. The rain was coming with the dark clouds
16. And that lead him nowhere I could ever track. Till he’s so far away, so lost
17. The earth should be cloned to make a second home from ourselves
18. Du är perfekt
19. The wine slowly danced in a spinning circle as a hand made it ring around on it’s rim.
20. Even as the dark clouds cover over the small city, blacking everything out.
Aug 29, 2014
Aug 29, 2014 at 4:01 AM UTC
Pay attention to,
the squids and monkeys and bugs,
They will rule one day,
Roaming forests, dark foliage,
Pierced only by sliver milked moon
The sun far set on ethereal ground,
The people soon rest in the shallow
Or sent abroad have dreams of leaving,
Timeless exposure to all magnets.
This makes no sense.
Nov 14, 2013
Nov 14, 2013 at 2:43 PM UTC
Sheltered in deep abysses, enveloped
By the soft touch of translucent salted fluids,
Voluptuous fluctuating bodies of enthralling creatures
Inhabit the unscathed aquatic spheres, impishly enjoying
The uncountable marvels of spirited marine existence.
Secret currents carry turtles migrating ten
Thousand miles or more across the oceans in search
Of jellyfish and warmer waters with remoras sliding backwards,
Clinging onto them by suction as mantas pursue
Shrimps and krill before the passage of baleens.
Dolphins splash about communicating sounds, flamingo tongue
Sea snails leaving trails, of dead coral tissue in their wake. Red
Vase sponge copiously producing slime as squids swim by,
Focusing their prominent eyes on targets while colourful *****
Walk sideways, foraging for small, spiny, globular urchins.
Sneaky sharks finely tune electromagnetic sensors marked
By pits on their snouts to detect, slight muscular movements,
Down to heartbeats of preys, fighting battles with flying hawks
Over penguins, and trumpetfish align themselves with other
Vertical objects and sea stars, regenerate lost body parts.
Moving as one, schools of sweetlips explore accompanied
By devoted cleaner wrasses grooming them to keep
Their skin and mouths free of infection-causing parasites.
All play the game, of balance and harmony in the underworld,
While mermaids travel along the few remaining vessels of
Stranded humans in quest of land.
Jul 1, 2017
Jul 1, 2017 at 5:27 AM UTC
We sit by the temple
inky black is the sky
the stars flicker like diamonds
watching the waves on the beach washing up
to a tidal high
The glowing fluorescents as the deep meets the surface
from jellyfish to squids and blue shiny sea worms
as we watch we hold hands
twenty we do stand
then we start, singing to the heavens
All of our torches do lead to the sea
to the waters of life we greet thee
we sing of body and soul
all the masters young and old
singing to the heavens
By Christos Andreas Kourtis aka NeonSolaris
Nov 6, 2015
Nov 6, 2015 at 2:27 PM UTC
God, I wish
I was a demonic
Cthulhu-like being.
Bearing appendages
that are reminiscent
of a squids tentacles,
with the exception
of having pulsing
**** heads
on the
ends.
I've
had
some
fun
with
these
sick
and
low
thoughts.
Dec 22, 2021
Dec 22, 2021 at 6:57 AM UTC