Best Larval Poems

Mastered Puppets


Of the voices thrown and never shown their cries travel well
A starving sewn with a bitter bone of their life a quiet quell
With larval lips that are losing grips where echoes only dwell
Their smile drips as they use their fingertips in a yielding yell

Left...

Continue reading...

tadpoles growing in a pond
anxious for the great beyond
decreased numbers, fairly grim
takes too long to grow a limb

hiding from the larger fish
trying not to be a dish
feeding on the larval flies
protein bars in strange disguise

gain a voice before you croak
caught up in a ghastly joke
wishing...

Continue reading...

“In situations of captivity the perpetrator becomes the most powerful person in the life of the victim, and the psychology of the victim is shaped by the actions and beliefs of the perpetrator.”
? Judith Lewis Herman, Trauma and Recovery: The Aftermath of Violence - From...

Continue reading...

These big mother mayflies
spend larval lives in mud
eating detrital crud,
then molt and take to skies
to mate, lay eggs and die
hand on to newer blood.

Freedom's brief days  passed
water phase starts anew
next cycle to accrue.
From time's undying past
through eons  have they last,
each generation true.

Delectable to...

Continue reading...

Straight rows of soft chairs, larval eyes stare blank
Absorbed by glowing colors on the wall
Their jaws slack, fetid whiff, unwashed and dank
Arrested minds the blue screen does enthrall

Their horticulture, growing docile strains
Indulge the twisted whims our lords conceive
The whores to culture, placid in their chains
Reclining...

Continue reading...

The larval stage that insinuates
a protective agony made of silk
Interlaces incipience quilted diametrically
Which twitches against cogitation and reasoning closing in...
The same as guilt
Or what guilt started as.

Unforeseen contingency's photo flash
An illusion based on disappointment.
Crime.

Each searching for a way to Each searching for a way to...

Continue reading...

All day out of sorts with self I fluttered like a leaf
Upon a monstrous limb of grief
There was nothing in psychology or even belief
I found to bring my soul relief
All day with smoke filled eyes I prismed light
But could not see beyond my tears
The invisible...

Continue reading...

From predawn birth, you dwell alone,
Preferring deep shadowland over light.
So much easier to conceal what is shown,
Nascent ember forelimbs that daunt your sight.

With growth in undying murk, and wings in flames
In brilliant reds, yellows, golds all blazing.
Flying is hopeless with birds of other names.
Passions rage...

Continue reading...

Mid-spring, skinny, black, blind
eastern tent caterpillars - 
Malacosoma americanum - 
falling from the cherry tree
leaning, human, over our deck.
Irksome. Mash and kick
them with my feet, continue
practicing or reading.

Three weeks later, reading
late at night. Heavy-bodied
black-eyed, reflexed antennae -
many hundreds of moths
crave the lamplight, some attaining
extinction through...

Continue reading...

Go love your rainbow falling from trees
Your spectral forests stripped of leaves
Stark branches fingering the sun's eye
The little deciduous garden waiting to die, and dappled ground appalled 
I will praise the days of fainting breeze
The hurricanes swallowed by the fog, my shack at ease
I will...

Continue reading...

Upmteenth (re:) inspection revisited...

I experience dread-nought
until April 19th, 2022 becomes yesterday
when troubles with management
here at Highland Manor
hoop fully temporarily alleviated.

Yours truly and the missus
personal living space
otherwise known as Unit B44
encroached, obtruded, and violated
predicated upon fruit fly infestation
justifying purported request for entry
into our one bedroom apartment.

Anticipatory...

Continue reading...

     Larvae of certain Butterflies 
     exhibiting a real surprise :
      eating only mulberry leaves ,
     though it is too hard to believe !

    ...

Continue reading...

I’m a titch like a detritivous dust-mite,
Yet taller than a boiler-hauled trawler.
Little like the winter mice’ whittling bites,
Brained bigger than a floor-fallen brawler.

I have stories smaller than memoried whales,
More shallow than trills of the trenches they’ve seen.
But my weather is the wind in their tow'ring...

Continue reading...

On the weary wings of winter the northern winds depart,
their harsh whisper in the frozen air 
the frost-fastened mulberry trees hear, 
“wait, you’ll listen the sweet music soon, 
don’t despair, the serenading southern breeze 
will embrace you with verdant melody”. 

The misty mask melts, turning...

Continue reading...

Just one more chance to mate.
He flies around the pond,
But now the season's late.
Will females still respond?
He perches on a stem,
To search for females free,
Maybe in nearby swarm.
He's up and off to see.

Then one comes up close by.
He sets off at a pace,
Gives her the...

Continue reading...