"stingray" poems
Come one come all
*** inside everybody
Please do
Fill yourselves and spill yourselves
Wet your dry spots with your wet spots
Don’t sweat the petty things
But please pet the sweaty things
Dance like a warped record stacked on a broken record
So you can gyrate over a Led Zeppelin ****** of
OOOHHHHYYYEEAAAH and it makes me wonder
Soak my curiosity in your nearly naked
Let’s walk away from this mutually *****
You cantankerous carnivorous man-eating jellyfish
Stumbling to engulf me in your morphine
Lying like amazing lovers do
“No
I won’t leave you in the morning
But it doesn’t mean I will ever love you
I just want you to feel me
You feel me?”
And you left at 4 am just after I passed out
Leaving me stuck with
The wings made of chain-link handcuffs and sheets
Going from my wrists to my feet
Because you said you always wanted to make love to a butterfly
I thought I could be an angel
Or at least a stingray
So my venom might stay with you longer
But you left like I knew you would
Took the keys and I had to pretend I was wearing a white kimono
And because of the handcuff chain
I just started telling people I was the ghost
Of ***** lovers past
But you go ahead and go on back to your main attraction
I don’t mind workin’ side show
Standing like a man made *******
Pulsing at the thought of you potential
Waiting patiently like a secret
Verbal donkey show
Hollerin on the tail end of dawn
With a secret song on a broken record
When played backwards
“Don’t go”
Jan 3, 2012
Jan 3, 2012 at 12:24 AM UTC
Today
I bought myself
a little stingray
red and flowered
I bought myself
a ukulele
Jul 12, 2013
Jul 12, 2013 at 5:42 PM UTC
My nose began to bleed. Outer space was my calling since infancy. Never again shall I let my mother's daughter down. The cold ***** told me I was a friend then took my Burger King satisfries. All is alright. I took her to Sandals and pushed her in the stingray tank. Oh brutal memories. They sting with a pleasurable swoon. I hammered the nails into my deck with a pressure similar to that of my car tires. Hard. Tight. I whimper with a paper cut. Hand sanitizer heals the hurt. Also alcohol. Or playing darts with my cat. You're the ****** Or is my ex boyfriend's half lover? He said leave, so I stayed.
Nov 12, 2013
Nov 12, 2013 at 3:43 PM UTC
I came home to find that the
Oven had been left on
And only the burnt crust of the brownies
Had been left uneaten and
Poor Jose had gone to bed drunk
Before nine
I opened Jose's bottle of red wine
Because it was owed to me
And I saved all our lives by turning off
The oven and I sat at my computer watching videos
And thought of how Charles Bukowski's voice
Reminded me of the Disney version of the Jungle Book
Low and soothing and liquid
That you couldn't ever grab hold of
But lived in your memory
And the wine made memory sweet
Poor Jose drinks and his memory
Hits him like a stingray
Sliding just beneath the wet sand
His life is twisting and turning upwards
Towards some horrible nesting spot
And It's just like how sometimes
The cat's mewing seems deafening and
The more pleasant someone is the more you
Wanna pull out their eyelashes
And the cream colored paint on the walls
Is moments away from driving you mad
And with all that **** dully hurricaning around
Who's got time to turn off the oven?
Dec 13, 2013
Dec 13, 2013 at 1:01 AM UTC
Arms woven tightly
across my anxious chest
My legs are spun together
protecting the nest
I am ready.
There is excitement, nervousness
euphoria fear.
I feel the world's array
flying over me,
pulsing around me.
The hearbeat of the stingray
throbbing throughout the sea.
The current, she is cold
but the heartbeat keeps me warm.
I am a fetus of the ocean
My mother is the sea
My father will not let me drown
For he's the music guiding me.
Leading me to adventure
to creation
to love
preparing my mind to see.
Nov 24, 2012
Nov 24, 2012 at 10:47 PM UTC
You sleep on the sea
Moon glowing on the ripples
While the trees dance in the breeze
She stands on sand
I swim without palms
Awaken from the empty book
The ***** hands pinch my nails
Sails of old as cold as the hearts of gold
The stingray which releases its fury
I bite the tail of my own rough skin
Float away
Float to your shallow grave
Touch the fishes that kiss my tongue
But give me one chance to obtain true love
Apr 13, 2013
Apr 13, 2013 at 1:13 AM UTC
Today she wore curlers in her hair
looking like cannons staked out ready to blare
Her lipstick and powder
like bouillabaisse chowder
And when she demanded a goodbye "peck"
I said "No way!" to the wreck
Which made her rear back and bray
"Go home then and kiss a stingray!"
She cackled and cackled
raising my hackles
Thinks she is the second Joan Rivers
but she only gives me the shivers
Soon I was fearing another fight nearing
seeing her witch's eyes evilly peering
And when she rose in those clumpy army boots
I heard an arpeggio of loud flatulent *****
Forcing me out the door needing fresh air
and away from her threatening glare
But one day I'll be back
once I can align myself on the proper son-in-law track
Aug 9, 2016
Aug 9, 2016 at 11:08 AM UTC
Troy,
for an ounce of treasure
a pleasure a
Tempest.
Sep 8, 2015
Sep 8, 2015 at 7:22 AM UTC
I know I'm clingy, I latch on like a starfish, but at least I'm not a stingray, I won't strike when you least expect it, my only motive is to love you and it's the farthest thing from hidden. Maybe that's the problem. I tried to be a little more quite, shelter my thoughts so you wouldn't take off running but what I need from you is a roof over my head, cause I can't provoide it for myself when my words are protecting you like an umbrella during a rain storm. I've always loved you in waves and lately everyday has been a hurricane. But as I bite my tongue I find that my heart is cracking like the ground severs in the middle of a drought. I can not swim against the current and you are uncertain, and unsteady like the Nile River. Eighty percent of our bodies are made up of water, it's about time you let the flood gates down and opened your mouth.
-Kahla Mercadante
May 29, 2014
May 29, 2014 at 12:02 AM UTC
I haven’t written one word about you.
You, the source, the spring-head, the furled
man that lives in the corner of a *****
motel where salty sand meets asphalt.
I haven’t told you I’m a writer, that I want
to write until my hand is mush and the paper
is covered with my slime memories.
Like the humor, choler, fire. The yellow
fire of your beer spilled on the glass
coffee table; the orange fire of the hot
dish soap water cleaning out the stingray
sting (Mom was so mad); the red fire
of your red-neck in the sun by the rusty
fenced-in pool. I haven’t told you I don’t
miss you, or that I do.
Jul 17, 2012
Jul 17, 2012 at 11:52 PM UTC
i’m crocheting a little friend
a stingray
out of teal and white yarn i am spinning him
he is tighly woven and
thinly drawn
and his eyes are stitched of black yarn woven into sloppy crosses
i don’t know if i’ll keep my little friend once he is complete
he is something that should be given away
to someone who needs his soft company more than i
i could make a thousand stingrays once i understand the pattern
but in giving him away he would be
someone’s only stingray
and i think everyone should have
a soft tightly wound sea creature
at least once in their lives
Jan 19, 2020
Jan 19, 2020 at 12:21 AM UTC
I swim in
dreams
of
Maldives
turquoise, blue
tranquil trance
stingray's sea bed
belly dance
Apr 17, 2023
Apr 17, 2023 at 4:34 PM UTC
To whom it may concern,
I am sad today
but I am trying
really hard
to be better.
Today it hurts to breathe,
and I think there is a stingray
swimming in my chest,
but I am trying
really hard
to be better.
To whom it may concern,
I do not know who you are,
but you should know
that I swear,
I have all these dreams
and ideas
in my head
that I try to love with kindness,
even if they weigh me down
when I gather them in my arms
to keep them safe from the dark.
They are trying
really hard
to give me space
to be better.
But, Dear Heart and Dear Head,
you ache like statues of stone -
discarded graveyard relics -
and I can feel your cracks and shattered edges
as I skim the hard surfaces
with my cold hands.
I can feel the pain
and it gets heavier
as my words pile dirt
on my brain,
like damp soil shoveled
over a new grave.
Today I am sad
but I am trying
really, really hard
to dig myself out
to stop suffocating
to shed the heaviness
to get better.
Nov 13, 2013
Nov 13, 2013 at 1:14 PM UTC
I cant articulate my thoughts the way I used to be able to.
My brains connections have swapped from word obsessions to ambience and aesthetic obsession,
Certain patterns and flowers and shades and tiny parts of really large scale beautiful things.
My brain is no longer the same wordsmith,
Forge raging night and day as with each disruptive bang he straightens red hot words into sentences with which to turn to blades to rend his foes and cut his binds,
Now he is a word weaver,
One who sits silently at times, piddling with the different threads in frustration,
And at times feeling the path the words would like to be drawn down and around each other, forming pictures from the fragments with the dreamlike ease similar that of a stingray gliding across a glittering moonlit seabed in search of treasure he dropped while chasing the moon.
But words,
No matter the arrangement arranger or arrangement process,
Can fall short of the pure raw power to make someone feel the way a sunset can or the glistening blur of running water.
Nov 3, 2016
Nov 3, 2016 at 2:00 PM UTC
Earth
The wolf
Hidden in the dark forrest
Gracefully walked up to me
“I can smell your hands bleeding.”
I told him regardless of the pain, I had to hold on.
He said no, you need to let go.
Water
The stingray
At the deepest point of the ocean
Swam right up to me
“I can feel how tense you are.”
I told her change is too hard
She said I should accept it, move through it.
Fire
The Elephant
Standing strong in the worst of storms
Shaking the ground as he came near
“I can see the fear in your eyes.”
I told him it’s not easy being jaded
He said I needed to open my heart, trust again.
Air
The Nightingale
Singing loudly in the blackest of night
He flew straight towards me
“Why can’t I hear your heart through your words.”
I told her the heart is naive
She said better the heart than the mind, let me hear your soul.
Spirit
The Sea Serpent
In stories, tails from long ago
Slithered up to my feet from the blue water
“I can taste your pain on my tongue.”
I told him about my past
He said emotional wounds can heal, you just have to believe there is more out there.
Jun 13, 2018
Jun 13, 2018 at 3:15 PM UTC
We should respect all wildlife,
Avoid going too near to a bear,
Because such closeness,
Is not adored even by a wife.
Give them their space,
Give them their privacy,
Give them their independence,
And don't endorse poachers.
Give them their respect,
Give them their secrecy,
Give them their homes,
And don't disturb their abodes.
Those who don't do that end up like:
Steve Irwin (2006) – Died when a Stingray barbed him to the heart
Cayetano Herrara (2017) – Killed by a jaguar while filming a documentary
Bradley Richard (2011) – Killed by a saltwater crocodile while snorkeling
Ben Nugent (2011) - Killed by a shark while surfing
Paul Rosolie (survived, but had a close call) - Almost killed by an anaconda while filming a documentary
Timothy Treadwell (2003) - Killed by a bear while filming a documentary
Even pet animals can **** you,
Stay alert, because this list is not exhaustive.
Please note that this is not an exhaustive list, and there may be other wildlife professionals who have lost their lives while working in the field.
Mar 2, 2025
Mar 2, 2025 at 11:18 AM UTC
I am neither kept nor caught.
Not a rabbit in the snare,
not the fox in the chicken coop.
I am here, with her,
not fooling her,
myself,
or anyone else.
If anything,
I am like a shark.
I have to keep moving
or I can’t breathe.
Hunting stories;
an understanding of humanity
that continues to elude me,
in my shark-state.
She lets me swim
these streets and alleys.
Hunting ideas for the notebook.
Telling all of the other fish my stories.
Sea lions I’ve bitten,
stingray tails.
How they might’ve tasted.
Their terrified eyes.
These are good stories.
They’re not always true,
but it’s always a little more fun
when they are.
I’ll just keep moving.
Swimming the currents
of this municipality’s ocean.
Sometime later,
I’ll feast.
(Blood is always in the water.)
Pen and ink.
Tooth and fin.
It’ll be a frenzy.
***
-JBClaywell
©P&ZPublications 2018
Dec 31, 2018
Dec 31, 2018 at 5:24 PM UTC
Now, underwater, sound turns itself
inside out. I aim myself
toward the floor of the pool
but my pruned hands never
find it. Down down down.
Deep water. As quickly
as fear arrives, it's traded
for confusion; confusion,
for abandon; abandon, for peace.
Down here, I barely am.
The weight of my body erodes.
Watch me stingray. Watch me dolphin.
Watch me ball up into stone.
Watch me sink.
Listen for my whale song.
Wait for me to geyser.
Jan 8, 2019
Jan 8, 2019 at 11:55 AM UTC
She said it was too heavy
the burden of life.
She said it was too heavy
And she cast it off
And now it's too heavy to hold
Her absence
A great aching chasm
She soars
Stingray spirit
I hope it doesn't hurt
Any more.
Mar 9, 2018
Mar 9, 2018 at 10:35 PM UTC
i miss the sunrises in the morning
and the stars at night
i miss the weather there
and the sights
i miss the *****
Caleb would always collect
the hammock we played on
and all that
i miss the sand in my toes
and the rolls of the shore
i miss the company i had
dolphin
octopus
stingray
lobster
shark
turtle
whale
they're like family now, that's a fact
i miss singing in the afternoon
that continued along at night
some sing-along we did
praising God, with all our might
i miss the laughters we shared over small talk conversations
and the random jokes we made
during sessions
i miss our late night girl talks!
though some of us cried
it was a blessing im sure
thats something i can't lie
i miss the prayers
with Ms Teo and Mdm Lily
the support of our lives
the officers who are oh so lovely
i miss the way we would walk just to get water
i miss even that,
because the little things matter
i miss all that
but one thing i know now
is that we grew stronger
the bond we have
i will not trade for another
maybe one day it'll come by again
til our hearts content
by our sides
singing along to Yesus Kekasih Jiwaku
i'll see you again next time
til then, heres my temporary goodbye.
Jul 18, 2019
Jul 18, 2019 at 6:05 AM UTC