Short Urchins Poems

coins drop palm to palm
a lively tune she dances~
we applaud loudly...

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   watery porridge

   GASP! a soggy oat
   slips past the beadle
     onto the floor

   urchins pounce
                   ~ splat!
...

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Even the most powerful fall in the end
No matter the prestige they fall like all men
Tycoons with fortune
Lowly street urchins
No one's immune, time does not bend...

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Even the most powerful fall in the end
No matter the prestige they fall like all men
Tycoons with fortune
Lowly street urchins
No one is immune time does not bend...

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The bass and perch are both spinny-finned.
Whereas sand dollars are spiny-skinned.
Sea urchins and starfish are spiny-skinned too.
I love my world book which is totally brand new!...

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Even the most powerful fall in the end
No matter the prestige they fall like all men
Tycoons with fortune
Lowly street urchins
No one is immune, time does not bend...

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Haiku Glass objects
I entered a poem Nov 29, 2010

Tones of sea urchins
Glisten in large glass sculptures
On umbrellas blue

Shades of jade caress
Swirling glass styles portraying
Regal floral views...

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We urchins did survive
The cesspool of our streets.
Our joy at being alive
Depended on such treats
As husbandry can do. 
In sounds of songs unsung
We learned this as we grew--
Flowers grow from dung
And ancient songs renew....

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haiku, the beginning of fall



Saturday morning
there is a chill in the air 
leaves fall silently.

Leaves are urchins 
no one to discipline them
the lost generation 

Summer is still here
by noon it will be hot again
the last gasp of death.

Yellow leaves on roads
the process is beginning
from the lost to soil....

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Thirty street urchins, faces dirty....
Thirty outstretched hands....
With thirty tin cups,
With thirty over-active glands,
Looking like thirty sad faced pups...
All thirty pounding at my door
All thirty begging, "Please, sir, more!"
That's what I get, as I hand out
Thirty dimes,
For reading David Copperfield
Thirty times!...

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Her mouth swallows whole
Slip away under the blackened deep

See the waves churning crashing overhead 
Moved with a toss and jerk

An insignificant faint distant star in a murky dark sky 
Embedded in sand

Lay with spiny urchins
Tumble across our sea bed

Crustaceans pinch and pick away
And what’s left for the coral

Feeds the sea
Until another...

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Hear the zebras roaring?
  In the forest shadows,
  Deep into the night.
  Dancing on black stripes,
  Across the moonlight.

  Little imps and urchins,
  Falling over roons.
  When the zebras are a roaring,
  They shake the mountains on the moon.

  When I walk with zebras,
  Among the thundering herd.
  I can't hear you calling,
  Masked hoof beats cover every word....

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What is it about the sea and me?
The attraction is so strong.
I know I am 80% H2O, but U are 2.

Has it something to do with
the full moon?
Today I rescued star fish, crabs
and sea urchins.
Marooned on the sand.
The opposite of "Out of their depth."

That means tonight, as we speak....
It's high and deep.
Is it too late to go for a swim?
Please join me ...

LET'S JUMP IN!!...

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An octopus asked 
a squid for some ink, to pen
a tentative tune. 

Some turtles shelled out
for tickets sold by sharks.
Urchins snuck in for free.

The Sun dimmed the lights
on the Atlantic stage, as
dolphins waved moonbeams.

An orchestra of oysters, 
pearl jammed with the mussels and
the clams crowd surfed.

A cool crustacean
grabbed the mic while a cod played
the bass on the rocks....

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i had a real morbid day, harry.
i dunno what makes those nauseating thoughts come up.
utterly disgusting
and completely illogical.
no basis in reality.

i think i better think nicer thoughts,
like flowers
and clouds
and dewdrops
and picnics
and seashores,
and please extract the other two sea urchins from my left ear canal.

and harry, thanks for the swell job
on my right ear.

(mar 79)...

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lifting random hushes of grey green,
gentle pushes and unknown time
of salt sprinkled quiet and solitary
mist,

rising;
lifted;

speckled sand; flecked dunes
clumps grass blades,
their yellow curled tips 

watching;

a small girl;
single tiny impressions
on level reaches home.

and the waves watching,
urchins but children of the sea,
learn their moods and reasons
searching in her eyes....

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confronts in the wee day,
street urchins stole my green paper,
spent the night in the pricky hay,
seeping dew on the near tree-pepper.

broken pieces of a poor heart,
swollen feet tasted enough miles,
and when the day is yet to break apart,
you distort all that make me smile.

a bet, bet for the best,
i gambled, only to gain the grave,
used all the power for all the rest,
and now am left with no coin to save....

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I could not stick my head in glue
To feed and wait with barnacles,
Or seek security among
Aggregate anemones,
Or anchor to tomorrow with sedentary polyps,
Or browse with slugs,
Or cling to rocks,
Or maintain the perpetual
Defensiveness of urchins,
Or achieve “being realistic”
With camouflaged bottom dwellers,
Or remain isolated in a shell.

I float on my colors,
Moved by current desires.
Developing backbone
To swim effortlessly
In the ocean of possibility....

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Children of darkness do not play under the Bluebird sky
nor do they feel the sunshine of a summer's morning
on little backs and faces..
instead they toil from dawn to dusk in rooms of

darkness with dirt floors and grey walls..
barefoot urchins from six to ten
hollow eyes that stare at sewing machines
where tiny fingers thread and weave garments

for rich ladies and gentlemen who buy the cloth of silk..
spun by little folk who had the misfortune to be born paupers.....

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Newspaper curtains
tea to stain paint
skeletal scorpians
arranged by the bed
Roses and indica rice in a bowl
Willows gone weeping on Japanese scrolls
Candles to floating
Sandalwood breath
Dimly let lit 
In a box, frankincense
Books of high learning broke open in spines
set up upon urchins, read into design
Rug, white flotilla
a kiss from the sea
to soften bamboo
on the floor, for our feet
Scene of discovery, resting in wood
like a dream to interpret, long misunderstood....

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