Short Mussel Poems

icy waves in fall
            ferry to shore a sea star 
            from a mussel bed...

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A polato frittata
Three cheese lasagne
Saffron and mussel tartlets
An iced-lime cheesecake
or
Goats' cheese souffle
Chardonnay
Light !...

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I once loved
an anchor
one of those
that sails
on skin
one of those
that has 
a rowing heart
and pelting blood
within


One of those
who blows
mussel covered
kisses
one of those
that tells
mermaids salty lies
one of those
who'll
go down with
rum and shackles
the day he finally
dies.


© Gry W Christensen...

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Some people say a man is made out of ham
I say he's made out of mussel and clam
Mussel and clam, oyster and crab,
Spread like a feast on a mortician's slab. 

You eat way too much, what do you get
Another pound fatter all sweaty and wet
Tell Peter not to bake me no pumpkin pie
One more bite and I'm likely to die....

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At the mussel restaurant
You order up a pot.
Ceremoniously, they’re served,
Piled high and piping hot.

Scoop some shells and use your tiny
Fork to pull the meat.
Sop the sauce with crusty bread,
Each bite a tasty treat.

Sip a draft beer and relax
For everything’s all right.
A mussel feast’s the perfect way
To welcome Friday night....

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A palace on the rocks
washed by the sea
impregnable and strong
fit for a queen
softened by a carpet
of Ulva green
dotted with coins 
of Halimeda weed
adorned with peacocks
fan Padina
and feathery Caulerpa
red, pink, and green
lulled by the waves	
fed by the sea
fit for the beauty
of a mussel queen.

Second Place: Brian Strand- Mid August Standard-8/17/17...

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I am your clam, your mussel
I am your tuna, your salmon
I am your cream cheese
I am your rice, white and full-figured
I am your peculiar cilantro
I am your wasabi 
I am your sweet ginger
Am I a delicacy?
Do I taste good?
Don’t you think you had too much meat? 
Maybe I should have more carrot and more cucumber.
But still, I am sushi
That’s what’s important to me...

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I'm clinging to a rock,
Being battered by the waves.
At the mercy of the sea,
Living long and tedious days.

No escape for me,
Life's a constant tussle
Relentlessly being pounded,
It's not easy being a mussel.

Stuck here on this rock
Filtering away all day.
Nothing to eat but plankton,
I wish I could swim away.

Oh, to be a fish
And cruise the open sea,
I may be shackled to my rock,
But I dream of being free....

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The ocean welcomes
Jubilant waves rush to greet
Like a dear, old friend

It is a gray day
Yet this small, secluded cove
Is colored with life

From towering cliffs
To effervescent tide pools
True beauty abounds

Stoic pelicans
Soar in orderly fashion
Patrolling the coast

The beach is littered
Pink seaweed, mussel shells, kelp
Nature’s partied hard

My toes in the sand
I rest on a driftwood log
Breathing poetry....

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Man and woman, one in the same, 
Beseeching seductions, provisions, and prosperous name.
Some may face struggle, while others maintain reign.
Quagmires discharged, with little to gain.  
Although impressive, a lifetime of masculine praise 
 does not surpass the mental struggle in which females prevail,
So please preform arrogant mussel portrayal,
 but I double-dog dare you to not go insane, 
 when beaten by father, and absent mother’s place blame....

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I like to eat mussels
both in red and white sauce
I sometimes eat them with spaghetti
no matter what the cost

And then I always do something special
with the leftover mussel shells
I place them in the garden
where they look so awfully swell

The neighbors and the gardeners
don't know what to make of this
but it doesn't matter
it's my gardening bliss

Perhaps I'll start another garden
with clam shells all the like
It will brighten up my day
at a lesser price...

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Turtle cruises the reef,
turquoise warm in the sun;
tendrils of coral stretch to
sup filtered light.

Butterflyfish and Tang
intermingle amid coral polyps,
that are plentiful appetizers
for this party.

As sponges get their rays,
a seahorse uncoils and jettisons itself
just overhead of a yawning mussel.

I giggle to myself as an angelfish kisses
my goggles and swim beneath the belly of turtle;
awed at the Crayola chroma essence
that delights my spirit.
...

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