Today I am
querulous
my foot taps a rhythmless tattoo
my fingers roam unfulfilled
this bolus of undetermined want
slides down my throat,
invertebrate,
lodging in my stomach
dull,
as a faint scratching on a prison wall,
carving out the days
heavy,
as a stone unquarried and uncut,
the sculptor indecisive, reluctant to take up his chisel
some indeterminate
unfixed need
slithers, struggles for expression
through restive eyes
Turned his back, for he ain’t got no spine
Invertebrate snail, leaving a trail of slime
Stood me up, promised we’d go for a climb
I waited all day, and it’s already nighttime
Never trust slugs, let you down all the time
Oops! just heard, he’s been held up on a tine
Bite Size Poem no6 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Line Gauthier
10/06/2021
Dear humans,
I am an octopus and I’m unhappy with how you humans think you’re so great.
You might say I have a bone to pick with you…
which would be true if I weren’t an invertebrate.
I want you to know I am more than just a cephalopod
with 8 tentacles who spits out a little ink
for I too have a brain, in fact with nine of them…
and I am much smarter than you think
I have learned to use different tools and I solve problems too
and what if all those times you think you’re watching me…
I’ve been watching you.
You humans think with your one heart you’re as loving as can be…
Well think again mere humans…for every octopus has three.
So the next time you’re feeling superior…
the next time you think that you’re so great
remember…most animals in the world live in the ocean…
and most, like me, are invertebrates.
Please do not lament these facts…
do not become a sourpuss…
I’m sure you have some good qualities too…
Sincerely,
The Octopus
P. S. I know you’re proud of your ability to write…
and to be fair I think that’s great
but in the time it takes you to write one letter…
I’ve already written eight!
None came to such a remote place
Near Pannawonica in Australia, without access
No bird has known it, not even a skink
Troglobites live in the dark caves, never shrink
Humans came with iron mining project
But noticed the exceptional nature of the tiny insect;
Darkness keeps them smart
Bright light kills the insects
They live in the caves dark
Spider like tiny blind invertebrates
The aboriginal heritage of the earth
Deserve human interest for their special worth;
Man has abandoned mining there
Leaving the rocky caves to the insects’ care
To protect the lovers of the dark
From the assault of the light stark
Strange world accommodates all the opposites
Pannawonica like sanctuary is one of such sites.
© Aju Mukhopadhyay, 2020
A constant charging and retreating,
leaving behind the soaking sand,
is the ever changing of the tide,
pushing the sea against the land.
And all along the changing shoreline,
Pacific Gulls glide on patrol,
seeking out the ocean bounties,
of washed up departed souls.
There’s flotsam and old cuttlebone;
driftwood finally makes the shore.
Stints and waders chase invertebrate
stranded along the sandy floor.
And up above high water mark,
there is the victims of wild gales.
Dead sea grass in drying windrows,
meander below sand dunes in trails.
New Zealand spinach thrives and spreads.
Marram grass has stabilized the dunes,
and here and there is native spinifex,
among the burrows of communes.
These communes arrive in early spring
in thousands to the burrows each year,
so it becomes a special time,
with mutton birds returning here.
And constant charging and retreating,
leaves behind the soaking sand,
in the ever changing of the tide,
pushing the sea against the land.
HAIKU
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
the light of day
the darkness of night
twenty-four hours
a moment in time
one blink... total darkness
a bat does not care
o summer sunshine
fourteen hours... joy... heaven
then you got found out
one day... life for some
invertebrate imagoes
did you know... mayflies...
inch worms' measuring
time... pupating... emerging
beauty revealed
time in a void
light... darkness... how would you know
all conjecture...
time.. conjecture
astronomical distance
do we need to know...
a new planet... 'b'
time... we have not got it
not conjecture
have a good time
just how long is that... how long...
should be a life time...
time is running out
for all life on planet earth...
why are we warring...
time spent jousting
a waste of life... the moment
take time... live for it
philosophizing
me... but a mere mortal man
my muse guides my hand
my thoughts are my own
inspired by threats ignored...
i beg... heed nature
There are few foods in this world that I hate
But there is one gnarly and nasty invertebrate
Against which I most assiduously discriminate
And I absolutely can not in any way tolerate
If forced to eat it I would surely asphyxiate
If compelled to consume, I would first self-immolate
Let me be clear for I don't want to obfuscate
If told to ingest it I would violently retaliate
The oyster is something that won't grace my plate
That bilious bivalve should be banished as bait
That odious oyster is fetid incarnate
I can honestly say it's the worst thing I've ate
-Quiet voices with low decibels are taken with offense. Preconceived notions, spoken words without thought, inserting smileys to disclaim. Invertebrate personas can be seen evaporating from the skin, with the naked eye. Forming a resin that keeps building up over time. Labeling you with defects of character. Beating around the bush, hiding from problems; loose ends form. Texts twist the dough sprinkled with good intentions. Life's a *****, it hurts, don't it? Untied shoes are today's special, featuring potential failure. Intentional lack of preparation. Detached from the lanyard of civilization. Eyes disconnect; declining their calls. Reading the texts with disregard. Getting notifications and silencing alarms. Misdirected; free-falling off the imaginary edge of fictional beliefs. Playing a new version of make believe. Pretending with the help of it's big brother assumption, the answers we do not know. Taking offense to the actions committed with good intent. Overthinking the simple things in life. Misinterpretations of the harmless innuendos.
She was a fiery seashell,
lost 'neath convoluted oceans
amongst opuses of pure poetry,
artistically outspoken
'tween invertebrate reality
secretly devouring mankind,
beware Herr Lucifer,
she rose from the gaseous chamber
to live amidst ashes of immortality
& renowned marital infamy,
eternally burning spirit of Lady Lazarus
In honor of Sylvia
Out of the ash
I rise with my red hair
And I eat men like air.
- Sylvia Plath
REMINISCENCES OF A DINOSAUR
Nothing really changes; each one thinks himself
Slightly better than others of similar type :
“Oh, he’s too fat ; she’s gonna be left on the shelf”. . . . .
I hear all this daily and it’s just hype.
“He’s a bit of a dinosaur” -- an insult to his ears --
To show inability to modernize the way he thinks.
Yet the dinos ruled supreme for a hundred mill years
Humans for less than a million -- couple o’ blinks
And another thing, dinos had feelings of superiority too
They were just as human as you and me
They probably used to stand around saying “It’s true,
He’s a bit of an invertebrate” -- as an insult (the same, you see?)
I dunno, but invertebrates probably in turn felt mellow
By referring to their forebears, and then
Mocked disparagingly at some inferior fellow
As “a bit of a plant” or “one of the amoeba men”
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