Best Dorsal Poems


Premium Member Milton Creek, Sneak Peek

NOTE: To those who will soon be joining us in Milton Creek:  
Please allow our Mayor to make the announcement. Thanks!

Lots of things are going on in the town of Milton Creek
now that the posse has returned after putting under arrest
the villain guilty of murder; but who pretended to be meek.
It's a lesson to those thinkin' of movin' to the wild West.

I've been hearing rumors that are spreadin' on the street
about a bunch of new townsfolks that are comin' this way...
to Milton Creek because it's been declared the county seat.
I'm sure they're all good people, Mayor Tom will have his say.

He don't take too kindly to those who barge their way in.
There's procedure to follow when runnin' a business here.
The town council will disapprove of sharks with a dorsal fin,
so, all citizens can live in peace, without the need of fear.

I bought what was a restaurant next door to the Aces Hotel.
It folded when many got sick from eating bad Mexican food.
Now, it's part of Milt's legacy, and I promised I'd never sell.
Dinner at Aces, dessert at the bakery, coffee: fresh brewed

Mayor Tom is off on a new adventure, but he'll be back soon
to announce the names of new residents coming to the Creek.
I'm sure he'll be calling a town meeting on the first afternoon.
For now, I thought I'd offer a glimpse, just a little sneak peek.
© Lin Lane  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Bells

It was the bronzed bell of a tinseled Ocean ship.
Until Destiny was scuttled by a fiery water witch.  
In time, it became the haunting clang upon a reef.
A macabre knick-knack for cliques that ruled the deep.

They returned like blue birds, lonely for a blossoming.
To pay homage to every sailor overtaken by the sea.
They lay bouquets over shadowed grief...
as ghosts pared sweet memories into paper effigies.

Between shuffles of worn decks and ninety-proof lips.
They spin tales of crimson seas and horrible dorsal fins...
Torn hearts and sails, forever on a starboard list.
Drifting between a blue refrain and the salty mist.

In the graying vein of time, everything's forgotten.
The sweet angelic, the mundane, the eternally rotten.
Gravestones hoard salt within their granite cracks.
Tokens to a time when auroras bled into blackness.

One by one the crew will drift from this pearled realm.
Riding Tradewinds into the gilded scented heavens... 
or become driftwood in the brackish heart of hell...
as the captain sways to the clang of his beloved water bell.

I Have Become a Predatory Great White Shark

I once was here, then in the blue ocean,
I once was dry, then thrown into commotion. 
I had no clue, for I was in the complete dark,
but I was becoming a GREAT WHITE SHARK!

Just a wee baby was I at five feet in length,
I have a dozen siblings all in great strength.
I’m just a pup who swam away from his mother,
trying to hide from prey with my little brother. 

Now I’ve grown fifteen feet long as I’m older,
I’ve become more vicious and completely bolder. 
I can swim fifteen miles per hour with my dorsal fin,
I’m top of the food chain as my speed always wins.

I’ve become a predator expected to hunt food,
but during the winter days I’m not in the mood.
I really fear humans who fear me even more,
for it is actually sea lions and small whales that I adore.

I can’t believe the adrenaline rush that I need,
as I rip apart marine animals for my feed.
My agitation today became stronger than ever,
as I went on my greatest and best endeavor.

My torpedo shaped body and my stable tail, 
help me escape from a pack of killer whales.
They tried to tip me over and become catatonic, 
it makes me fall asleep in a state of hypnotic. 

My life has never been better on this journey I embark,
for I have become a predatory GREAT WHITE SHARK!


I chose: Becoming a Great White Shark
April 9, 2017


All In the Family


Daughter crime
hooking up with felon Father time
Both got incestuous, crooked desires in mind
Two thieves in a thug hug, 
secrecy intertwine conspiracy vine bind 
Mother brood 
raising a wild pack of dog sharks
to feed on 
minnow murmuring moods
of bottom dwellers street schooled
Imprinting runt dorsal vig tales
with a devouring loan interest attitude
Like father, like daughter
Evil is, evil become
Like mother, so are the sons
Wicked poison flower, wicked petal blossoms
Family of privileged gangsters;
from rotten fruit, spoiled seeds sprung
DNA genie-ology:
witches ~ warlocks conceived 
by blood occult umbilical wizardry
Inherited death
will be all in the family
Cursed wealth,
it will estate all in the family
Snake in the grass grifter grafted stealth
give get you 
adopted into this viper family,
so devilishly easy
Destiny rooted in brimstone soil,
be any branch from this evil tree

Premium Member Embraced Between Sea and Stars

I had my first glimpse of her from the sandy beach,
her silhouette painted on the sky's canvas of peach
The regal double-mast brigantine, sailing out to sea
Upon waves she rode, full glory not yet at apogee

But whence the wind, her sails would be unfurled,
she'd glide quickly over waters, crested and curled
Fully hoisted and billowing in flowing trade winds,
chased by dolphins, breaking surface with dorsal fins

I longed to be a mariner aboard her quarterdeck
visiting foreign ports along the journey I would trek
Hearing tall tales the sailors were bound to embellish
Her crew was setting sail on a voyage I would relish

I yearned to stand at the helm; salt spray on my face
Memories of such an adventure I'd cherish and embrace,
on a vessel sailing between the sea and the stars
But I sit in the shallows, enviously watching from afar
© Lin Lane  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Shark In the Soup

When I ordered fish soup I hadn't a clue
 That a predator lurked within the brew
 I was ready to taste it so I dipped my spoon in
 But rising from the bowl was a dorsal fin!

 I took up a fork to spear this fish
 Which was swimming around making my soup swish
 The waiter came over to see what was wrong
 I said "there's a shark in my soup, he doesn't belong"

 The waiter decided to take the bowl back
 I told him to bring something that didn't attack
 The waiter returned and granted my wish
 And brought me a bowl filled with goldfish!
                           -
 12-28-18
 Shark in the Soup Contest
 Sponsor.. Anthony Slausin
© Joseph May  Create an image from this poem.


Premium Member Come, I Invite You to Suckle

Sea, I stand upon your shore with the rising of the sun 
as sanguine shades of dawn blend with an amber sky
Long before the overture of the human race has begun
I walk barefoot on the sand; to moonlight wave goodbye

When Ra lifts his heavy eyelids and wipes away the sleep
his light is softly reflected in prismed mirrors on your skin
I wonder what buried treasure lies within your waters, deep
before my mind is captured by the wake of a dorsal fin

Your smooth satin surface is without wrinkles or ripples 
It beckons me, "Come," as though you invite me to suckle
upon the salty crested waves of your whitecapped nipples
and I, powerless to refuse, would wade in and gladly truckle

Oh, rising Sea, would I were the wind to caress your cheek
I'd not tire of lying cradled in the ebb and flow of your tide
Rocked by gentle motion, I'd be entranced by your mystique
Upon Earth, you are feared and worshipped, far and wide

Your voice lashes out with Neptune's roar when riled in rage
but tranquil in peace when moonlight shimmers in the night
What dark secrets you hold would fill a novel, page after page
You evoke my mind with questions; flames burning, you ignite
© Lin Lane  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Afraid

The truth is, I'm afraid of most everything.
From the beautiful forests, cloaking hungry beasts. 
Every wave of the ocean din harbors a cold dorsal fin...
With my name engraved on it.
The mountains-and all the hidden fissures
, every step a potential hellish frozen death.
I'm afraid of big cities with all its bag pipe faces.
Blitzing back and forth from noise to noise-
A million dirty children-a half a million broken toys.

I'm afraid of small towns-and all the earthy smiles.
Hiding in plain sight, their filthy six-fingered lies.
I'm afraid of the finality of graveyards... 
Rows of forgotten marble splashed with pigeon droppings. 
I'm afraid of old age-as signs of frailty are starting to mount.
I'm afraid of the lost people of the iPhone occult.
Blank faces shuffling along like short-circuited robots.
I'm afraid of the heartless turbine called change. 
The lengthy lives of predators
The brief flash of beauty
Pristine waters that suddenly turn murky.
Mayhem always stalking beauty
The brevity of pollinators.
I'm afraid of love tossed so casually aside.
Like a pair of city sneakers wrapped around a country wire.
I'm afraid of that late-night phone ring.
That chimes, that your life will never be the same.
I'm afraid of the snotty ogre in the mirror-that they call a wasted life.
I'm afraid there is no God at the end of the line. 
I'm afraid of boxcar graffiti
I'm afraid of dying but not death
I'm afraid of the mirror so I turn the other cheek.

Jellyfish

Jellyfish

Once I had a wild wish
To be a jolly jellyfish,
A quietly quivering jellyfish
Shivering in the sea.

I did not crave to be a crab,
A sideways-scuttling, crusty scab
In sluggish sludge and dismal drab
At the bottom of the sea,

Nor wish to be a sucking sponge,
Sea-sway drudge of the fathoms' plunge,
Dredging supper from the soupy gunge
In the dungeons of the sea.

I might have wished for shark or whale,
To lord the oceanic trail,
My dorsal fin a regal sail,
Imperial in the sea;

Or dared to dash through the dolphin waves,
Gliding where the wild seas rave,
Dive to a shipwreck's sunken grave,
Sunken deep in the sea.

Instead, I wished for a jellyfish,
A parachuting jellyfish,
A gossamer drift in the seas' vast dish;
That's what I wished for me.

Premium Member Pearl Diving - Part 2

“Pearl Diving” (Part 2)

Angel fish are pretty, but they’re boring that’s they’re lot
the Man O War is far too flashy, frivilous, 
Octupi are too touchy feely always begging for the real thing way too early,
the Dolphins always laugh out loud, they’re overly boisterous show-offs
always trying to call the shots;
perhaps she’s best off lying in her Clamshell tight and small
for she is understanding now 
the Clamshell has cast a spell o’er her
to stop all creatures in the deep from
hijacking her magic powers.  

It’s comfortable and very warm, no need to leave her purse,
how could she leave what’s she’s only ever known behind;
better to sleep forever with the Clamshell as her nurse... 
dream her dreams, 
keep very still -
it couldn’t get much worse.

She’s shiny and she’s aged just right
the Clamshell protects her from the light, 
she’s not a real jewel anymore
she’s a bottled up narcotic bright,
a little white pill zipped up in her hardened purse
to numb out all that sunken hurt.

He swims down to get a deeper look
the sunlight now dappling through the 
hottest deepest lure of blue
thrashes his legs much harder now 
to get the closest view.
He sees the sharks surrounding her 
he checks his dorsal fin
he’s now become a predator 
and she his treasure there within,
to somehow prize and shuck her 
from her clammy milky mucous shell.
Such a beautiful sin he grinned and thought for a nano-second,
“Maybe I can win”.

Somewhere in the distance from the surface way up above,
he hears a mermaid call down to him, her silky voice enticing him, 
her echolocation surrounding him, 
through all those other fish making such a blasted bubbly din,

“It’s mine.” the voice whispers mysteriously in his ears, “ I’m playing this, it's mine, a life to win”.

(Lovejoy-Burton/ December 2017)




"Aqualung", Morcheeba
https://youtu.be/xxHL5szgThQ

Premium Member Submarine-The Gray Ghost

From fathoms deepest keep, where man,
Shall not dare go, a white toothy giant
Dwells, with hatred's malice, this is a living man
Eater, whom lies at the bottom of the ocean.
In this striking zone, of deadly encounters,
Here where dead men tell no tails, crimson
Currents of the lifeless, float to the top of the food
Chain, and their last breaths of air explode, as
Bubbles above at the surface,
Leaving nothing behind but a bloody residue,
And the wreckage mangled life raft, and one word
Still lingers on the foreboding breeze, as a screams
Echoing drowns into whispers in silences last refrain,
SHARK!
Nay this aquatic Phantom, called Submarine,
Is the gray ghost that stalks within every human
Beings nightmares, just below the waves of our
Subconscious fears, a demon lurks in the darkness,
Of the murky shallows, waiting to take a bite
Out of us.
A thirty-seven foot killing machine, with razor
Blades of jagged ivory's, moving at velocities mega
Speed, heading straight for humanity's beach,
His favorite hunting grounds.
A leviathan of a shark, highly intelligent,
Circling his preferred prey called man,
The hunter is ready to appease his
Insatiable appetite that is never satisfied,
In a carnivores blood bath of mayhem,
Just off shore of paradise.
In hell's kingdom many souls scream from
Below one word that echoes through the
Chum filled surf above, SHARK.
For these are the latest victims, of
The Submarines wrath, and now they do
So warn the living, beware of this sharp
Toothed Giant!
Look into the black eyes of death, take
Notice if he bares the scare of men,
And notches gouge mark on his dorsal fin,
For than thee shall know for sure, if
It is truly the gray ghost,
Known as Submarine.
If thou’ art sure, than say your final prayers unto God,
And inhale one last deep breath of air,
Than swim away, as fast as you can,
For humanity is now on the menu!

BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
© Cherl Dunn  Create an image from this poem.

A Mackerel Sky

"A Mackerel Sky" 

shadows like sun 
dance across 
an ocean of tears

salt for the stinging
walking on clouds
with the Fisher King, 

as if in school 
in the swim of things 
fishing nets for love

all in the eye 
of the beholder
wisdom like pearls

sown, 
an inevitable plant, 
pregnant with possibility

full-bellied, grown, 
then stitched up
embroided 

sewn imperfect
the hem of it slipping
needs fast mending

cirrocumulus,
fleecing
altocumulus

blown away 
an empty canvas 
borne for painting

bluebirds sing
on the backs 
of cloudy angels racing

Mares' tails 
and mackerel scales 
make lofty ships 

to carry low sails;

red herrings 
far from sure
bloody mind dripping

another colour 
washes itself 
in a pink mackerel sky - 

the observing self
hedging bets and 
reacquainting

do or die

(LadyLabyrinth / 2023)








“According to lore (tradition), a mackerel sky means that the weather is going to change.” 




“Mackerel are built for speed and, along with a highly forked tail, can streamline themselves by retracting their dorsal fin into a groove in their body when they swim. Actually, they are the fastest swimming fish, in UK waters, able to swim around 50 metres in 10 seconds.  Mackerel, have to keep swimming to live, as if they stop moving forward they will drown.”





Meaning, Mackerel Sky - "a name given to a sky covered with those same puffy cirrocumulus and altocumulus clouds arranged in a pattern of waves, with blue sky peeking through so that it resembles the scales on the back of a mackerel." 


It’s all rather fishy. Red Herrings, Mackerel Skies.

Neatness

Everything was in the right place; the shoes, books, furniture, utensils, remote control…. His house always smelled of fresh air, although it was hundreds of miles away from the ocean.

“Your house smells like a beach-house!” his friends told him.

He knew his house was far from being called a beach-house. It had no fishing harpoons, fishing nets, scuba diving suits or shells. In fact, he hated the ocean.
 
Three years back, his perfectionism had landed him a job in an environmental movement company. A research lab was set for him close to the beach.

One Saturday morning, he saw a turtle floating close to him. It was still, its body dancing only to the motion of waves. BP oil spills and chemical wastes suddenly haunted his mind. He now saw oil rigs and floating marine animals all around him. Quickly he jumped out of the ocean as though he had spotted a shark’s dorsal fin, a dozen feet away.

“I’ll never stay around imperfection!” he swore to himself.

Neatness then became his pilgrimage. He took one last bottle of vodka to erase the memories about the ocean, and moved to live in a place not close to any water bodies.

Sometimes he eats fish and lobsters with difficulty. An imagination of a contaminated ocean close to him scares him stiff to hold his knife and fork.    



Current Contest Name: Take The Dagger From My Heart, Please - 2

Previous Contest Name: SHORT STORY

Date the Previous Contest was Finalized: 9/27/2016

Premium Member Breathtaking

Begin your Diamond Head hike in the early hours of morning as it
Requires two full hours to climb to the top at an
Elevation of seven hundred sixty two feet from sea level.
After reaching the top of Diamond Head Crater,
That was formed by a volcanic explosion 200,000 years ago,
Honolulu and Waikiki are the breathtaking views from 
The top of the crater, spreading out from the Ko'olaus to the sea.
Allow yourself enough time to capture panoramic pictures as
Keepsakes of your climb and bask in the beauty surrounding
Impressive famous landmarks from the Manoa Valley to the
Natural harbour featuring the Arizona Memorial at Pearl Harbor.
Gorgeous amazing views greet the eyes in every direction.
  
*Ko'olau Mountain Range

Diamond Head Hike:

Diamond Head is the name of a volcanic tuff cone on the Hawaiian island of O'ahu and known to Hawaiians as Le'ahi, most likely from lae 'browridge, promontory' plus ahi 'tuna' because the shape of the ridgeline resembles the shape of a tuna's dorsal fin. Its English name was given by British sailors in the 19th century, who mistook calcite crystals on the adjacent beach for diamonds.

Premium Member Yellow-Fins

One by one
the Yellow Fins are gathering.
Their salty hearts gently filling 
with the indigo currents
of struggle -of living.
Tide treading the present...
back-stroking(grimacing) the past. 
Front-crawling into future's moaning crag.
Dorsal fin topped dreams and crimson cream 
never seem to last...
or do they?

The wicked wield wicked nets... squeezing tighter.
Calloused gaffs move in greedily.
The joy of yellow fins is flayed... 
One by one, 
as foul-minded sea lice gobble down
a million future suns...

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