"stingrays" poems
if I could be any one of your body parts I’d
be your fingertips.
when you break my gaze on screen, I yearn for it like
a lost child.
keep pushing others out of the way at aquariums so I can
touch the stingrays
and nudge my calves with your nose when you
want to be brushed
I promise to always remember where your car is parked,
if you let me keep that photo of you as a young pilot
in my pocket
in public spaces, we fill the
air between us with supernovas.
you are Sirius
you are the lobster
you are the look across the room at a party;
feel my phantom hands on your shoulders
I’ll crawl into the nape of your neck and make a home
plaster myself across your skin so you can find me
in the grooves of your hands
I’ll sew my words into your sheets so you will never be without them
promise me you’ll comb out your tangled hair if it gets too much
and wait for me by the Whitney
as I walk 341 miles for you.
Mar 8, 2016
Mar 8, 2016 at 11:43 PM UTC
steel
oil
engineering
labor
converge
round a
Rocket 88
dead man’s
curve
prescient
precocious
capitalists
concoct
Edsels
Vegas
Chevelles
leaping
Impalas
leak
oil
staining
every
American
driveway
Pintos
chase
Gremlins
across
The Great Plains
gassing up
at
Rt 66
fillin
stations
scramblin
Midnight
Ramblers
detour to
take refuge
with Goats in
Big Sky
Indian
garages
440
Mustangs
nip
327
Stingrays
and
Mach IV
Cobras
get
snake bit
by Dart
wielding
Mopar
muscle
cars
long fins
chrome bumpers
and round fenders
still get bent in
Havana
but
Motor City is broke
nations outta gas
whole **** country
needs an overhaul
Ike Turner/Jackie Brenston: Rocket 88
Nelson Riddle: Route 66
7/19/13
Oakland
jbm
Oct 30, 2013
Oct 30, 2013 at 10:57 AM UTC
I hunt antelope in human hordes.
I haul three brooms on one shoulder.
I don't clean up.
I dance with specters and minuscule magenta men.
I am the precocious girl in fuchsia heels and charcoal dress.
I am the humble man with stark white tails.
I pull drops of food from the ether.
I pinch seeds from flower's eyes.
I touch like feathers and embrace like mountains.
I take leave when I want to.
I am the shaggy oak watching his youth flash past.
I am the alabaster orb and the effervescent waves.
I eat the wind with a dash of cinnamon.
I exude thunderstorms from every pore.
I sleep with stingrays and the smell of wet hay.
I spend blood-soaked bills without a second thought.
I am the sinless murderer.
I am the woman with eyes that mend bones.
I fly with eagles in the cerulean.
I fight Irish brawlers with my eyes closed.
I capture hearts in nets of lavender and silk.
I climb towering opal obelisks.
I am the painter's muse and the singer's breath.
I am the hoary frost on ancient limbs.
May 12, 2010
May 12, 2010 at 11:07 AM UTC
*A caste of hawks at a rage of maidens
Led a cete of badgers to a gaggle of geese
And a school of whales brought a shiver of sharks
To a fever of stingrays at fabulous feast.
An absence of waiters in a crackle of crickets
Served a band of brothers a bevy of beer
Then the army of ants in the choir of angels
Left a filth of starlings decidedly queer.
But the clew of worms in the hive of bees
Swapped the bike of wasps for a ghost of gnats
While the raft of otters in the den of iniquity
Turned the loveliness of ladybirds to a river of rats.
Why an array of eels fed a bunch of grapes
To a pod of dolphins…nobody knows
But a disputation of lawyers cawing
Killed your flock of lice in a ****** of crows.*
M.
11 April 2015
Apr 10, 2015
Apr 10, 2015 at 6:30 PM UTC
Today, I gazed upon the future.
Stingrays, Mercedes S-Class, Corvette ZR1....
I couldn't take my eyes off that brand new Vette
I looked at my dad and pointed at that ZR1
I said
That's why I'm in college
I won't quit till I fall out
I won't stop till I'm gone
I don't want to be good
I don't aim to just be better
If I'm gonna do it
I have to be the best
Maybe more
But for sure
For sure
Absolutely nothing less
That's my ZR1
My Z06
I'll take off in that S-Class
How do you say.....
Kompressor
Appetite for Champagne
Budget for beer
No worry
Prospects are already flowing
I'll be the first round draft pick
I still hold the top spot
Highest grade point average
Dead serious
I got this
Heads up
I'm coming for you
Remember those three letters
JMG
You'll see them again
I promise
I am not the same
I'm an alien
I hover over you
Climb in my spaceship
Let's go for a ride
If you dare to understand me
You'll never let go
But dare for a ride
Cause I'm not slowing down
until i find out what that means
I'm not gonna quit til my brain stops tickin
I'm hungry
Starving
I'm gonna plow through this ****
Like Cam Newton through some Gamecocks.....Yeah 56-17
You can try to do something about it
I really hope you do
I'm a soldier
I'm never ever
Going away
I swear to god
You better keep your eyes open
Dec 4, 2010
Dec 4, 2010 at 5:03 PM UTC
How would you like to buy a brand new
chance for charity where you could touch someone’s life today. Just mail in
your bottle caps to win a new touch screen, memory packed
dog that will love you unconditionally. We have every breed you could ever
draw upon. And when you’re done, you just wipe away with no mess. It’s great for
elderly, who need help to get around, love our power chairs! They’re liberating and
fast. Nobody can catch him! He just might go all the
way down in the water are where stingrays live. They feed on
Starburst. Taste the Rainbow.
Mar 29, 2015
Mar 29, 2015 at 12:08 AM UTC
_“Failure is an option, but fear is not.” —James Cameron_
stuff into your wetsuit
strap on your BCD
from your regulator take two sips
excited you should be
we’re gonna scuba
in Aruba
(did you say Cuba?)
I said Aruba
stare at the horizon
big step into the fray
double fist tap o’er your head
shows them you’re ok
we’re gonna scuba
in Aruba
(did you say Cuba?) No!
I said Aruba
remember safety scuba
PADI rule of thirds a must
never hold your breath
or your lungs will surely bust
we’re gonna scuba (Yeah!)
in Aruba
(did you say Cuba?) No!
I said Aruba
finally we descend
enchantment ‘neath the waves
turtles, eels, stingrays, sharks
scenes that mankind craves
we’re gonna scuba (Yeah!)
in Aruba
(did you say Cuba?) No!
I said Aruba
we’re gonna scuba (Yeah!)
in Aruba
(did you say Cuba?) No!
I said Aruba. Yo!
.~.~.~
__Final thoughts in quintuplet couplets:__
_Water’s calm with clear blue sky
Summertime is nigh_
_Be sure to check your regulator
You can always thank me later_
_No more time for any rhyme
Dive five meters to escape the skeeters_
_If your mortgage is underwater
Are you certified to dive?_
_Sea Hunt was a favorite show
It’s great to be alive_
© 2025 Mark Toney
Aug 19, 2025
Aug 19, 2025 at 12:47 PM UTC
I want to sprint across the beach at 1am
I want to feel the sand between my toes as my running feet fall into beat with my pounding breath
I want to jump into the sea and explore a world previously unknown to man kind
I want to ride my bike across the island to the marina and help them feed the stingrays
I want to ride the ferry over to the gulf and stay there all day
I want to watch the sunset on the west end and see the sun disappear behind the ocean leaving the sky filled with incredible shades of oranges and reds
I want to feel the crashing of the waves against my legs as I swim deeper and deeper out
I want to stargaze in the hammock
I want my summer back
May 4, 2019
May 4, 2019 at 11:44 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
Magic memories, Sweet, of you
Who swam with me in oceans, blue.
Swam in deep green grottos warm
Where minnows, brightly painted, swarmed.
We plunged down, deep, to coral beds
To sway with tidal seaweed, red
And conger eels’ ferocious teethed
Now bared… then recoiled back to reef.
Squads of barracuda dashed
Around us, close, in silver flash,
Threatening with long gnashing teeth
Invoking stone cold fear, bequeathed.
Yet hovering, in deep crystal clear
Enraptured and entranced, endeared,
As giant kelp in columns, swayed
And stingrays in battalions, played.
Long grey shark then menaced bye
Ogling us with plate sized eye.
Time, I thought, to swim for shore
Where hot white sands… enticed us more.
M.
Great Barrier Reef
January 1968
Apr 18, 2020
Apr 18, 2020 at 4:49 AM UTC
With you,
I can feel what
I've never felt.
I can feel my wings
growing stronger as I
soar above the clouds
and I want to fly with you
like butterflies freed from a jar, ever grateful.
I can feel my face
glowing from the moon
as it cradles my oceans
and I want to swim with you like stingrays in a sea of love.
I can feel my petals
opening to the light
as it radiates into me
and I want to grow with you in a magical forest.
I can feel my horizons
extending as my sun
rises forever.
With you, I want to shine.
Dec 15, 2014
Dec 15, 2014 at 1:37 AM UTC
the joy of breaching
have you ever seen stingrays fly?
not just popping their heads up
taking a quick peek at sky
but completely clearing the ocean
even doing alley-oop-summersaults
vertical 360's in mid air
strength and gracefulness
their flight as fluid as paper airplanes
the wetness of salt watered skin
shimmering in sunlight
dark gray against cerulean
fin wings flapping in wavy curly movements
outwardly oscillating like sound waves
wagging tails like happy dogs
leaping out of their element
with confidence and exuberance
and bidding onlookers to do the same
Apr 8, 2016
Apr 8, 2016 at 4:48 AM UTC
i hate to break it like this, it's not a metaphor's worth of sentence that could become a riddle: it's not exactly a - why is a raven like w riting desk? because you're hunched, sitting over it, and scribbling with a pen, like a raven might with its claw(s)?
i wish i could make the following observation into a similar
riddle, but i can't, simply because it's too obvious...
what bird, could possibly be a far removed cousin
of a sparrow?
i have two families of sparrows building
nests just outside my window...
so i notice the fidget and the "anxiety" of their
little bodies...
but the link is in their tails...
the tails aren't exactly like flowers blooming in spring,
opening like a peacock's tail for courtship...
nor like the raven's tail... nor like woodland pigeons' tail...
they're sharp, pointy... never unfolding,
simply because the sparrows are little spitfires...
they require a sharp tail that doesn't unfold, for greater speed,
like a shark's fin...
the natural aerodynamic addition to their little bodies...
so who could possibly be the sparrows' cousin?
answer? magpies!
and because of the longer sharp tail that doesn't unfold,
like the sparrows,
i dare say, i'll call magpies the aero resemblance to the their aqua
cousins that are, stingrays.
come on... we've differentiated far enough,
poetry can't differentiate... the "only" thing poetry can
do is integrate... to make language, so dismembered: a whole;
doubly stressed: it's about making associations...
not about making dissociations...
so yeah... sparrows... magpies... stingrays.
May 12, 2017
May 12, 2017 at 3:02 PM UTC
I wade the waters of my fear
And know why Jesus walked above
I am immobilized except for tears
As terror shoves to fit the glove
The silent dogs that run the fence
Whose presence is felt not heard
To snake fangs that make me winch
Slurs my speech faltering all my word
The angels sit upon the wall
Casting lots on when my time expires
So Adam this is how you fall
From Heaven's grace down to hellacious fires
So dance with me on the graves at sea
On the promises you will never keep
Come wade the waters of my fear
Watch out for stingrays beneath your feet
Jul 20, 2017
Jul 20, 2017 at 12:24 AM UTC
your eyes are riptides,
undertows,
the current sweeping me off my feet:
pulling me under until i cannot breathe,
drowning me.
in a sea of people, i always search for you,
hiding across the crowded room.
sharp relief of your jaw line
--sculpted,
a statue of david--
your soul smothers me when you smile,
lights up those eyes
like the moonlight reflecting the choppy
ocean water at night.
in a sea of people, i always find you,
gentle touches like stingrays and eels,
sugar-coated shark teeth
sinking into me,
windswept across the beach with
cawing seagulls hunting clams.
your words are too sweet
--candied,
falsified for personal achievement--
smothering me in my sleep when you
trill your fingers to say hello.
in a sea of people, i always miss you,
shadowed,
a ghost of what once was and what will be,
things that i saw and things i will see.
the tide tickles at my ankles
as i stand on the edge of the horizon,
searching for your silhouette
in the darkness.
the sun has set and the tides will rise
--moonlight,
moonlight in your eyes--
but i am accompanied only by silence.
the ritual
of a faded dream that
crossbreeds with vague metaphors
and bad similes.
sweet dreams, great barrier reef.
goodnight, my darling.
Oct 16, 2016
Oct 16, 2016 at 10:22 PM UTC
The golden baby
In the last slice of Mardigras cake
A half dollar
Well after they stopped being printed
A rare right sided conch
When most others are left
Are the rare treasures I find buried underneath
The glass bird
Dainty as can be
And the size of a nail
The miniature tea cup
A full set
Spoon and all
The Minni and Miki
Mouse holiday wear
mini collectibles
Miniature Kitty Kat
Pouches
In four different colors
Are the tiny bobbles I couldn’t bear to part with
The multitudes of dice
From classic six sided
To 8 To 12
Even dice in dice
More than can be counted
Erasers by the gazillions
Stingrays, baseball gloves
Eraser pencils with missing erasers
And a baby head detached from the body
Keychains, by the plenty
Sunglasses, Weapons
Dream catchers, bird’s with bells, all sorts
Of strange and curious oddities attached to a chain
Coins, many sizes countries
Fake, real
Dinar, Rupee, Euro, dollar,
Replica of ancient yuan
Jewelry-
Don’t even get me started
Necklaces, bracelets
Rings and earrings
Even though my ears aren’t pierced!
My hoarding tendencies coming to light in this
Curious collection of collections
Also known as
The objects in my closet
Dec 9, 2018
Dec 9, 2018 at 12:27 AM UTC
Happy memories are stingrays now
Thinking of when you drunkenly called me from your friend’s bathtub
When you only wanted to be with me at that party
Not with your friends
When you looked into my eyes and made me feel at home
Like I belonged somewhere
Like I belong in your arms
In the warmth of your laughter
In the softness of your skin
And only to you.
I try not to remember talking to you until we were half asleep
Or drunkenly arm wrestling
Or your hands in my hair
Your heat colliding with mine
Creating a bond between two passions
But when I see you with him
Not only is it all I can think of
It is all I can live
Because your love
Is all I can be.
Nov 17, 2018
Nov 17, 2018 at 7:33 PM UTC
Well
its been midnight for most of the day
and the winter clouds laid heavy and deep
across the dark of the bay,
there are no sunfish to see
there's only the moon and me
sitting on the end of the pier.
Jan 20, 2021
Jan 20, 2021 at 12:57 PM UTC
Eyes gone dull, receding into comatose
Fingers full of dirt and hope, spinning sunflower
Power and lack thereof, the perception of those above looking down at the masses
These clashes seem to me, a supply chain theory, I want what you got, bombs pour out
Military industrial ore, we pour out the lifeblood of our children for soil
Foil snake, famished toil, ****** boils your tea
Three, one two many, send me space bound, no suit
Acute, angles I'm not seeing, the masses are fleeing, into the commonplace complacency of creatures of comfort
Watch the fort burn down, all your pretty ideas, replaced, rejected, genocides neglected
That's a bet, kid, I seek, you hid, cheese slid off the ******* jack pop snap
Lapdog lullabys, sticky morning crust in our eyes
Swatting at radioactive flies, landing on my lips and your hips
The road dips and tumbles, rumble strips and gravel licks
Rifle clicks on empty, nobody sent me, I came here on my own, mobile phone to the dome locked lengthways
Stingrays and hot water, burning protein venom
The waves are crashing down but the swell is just beginning
Sep 5, 2019
Sep 5, 2019 at 12:11 AM UTC