An Interesting Ancestry
To some of us, a tortoise lives on land
while turtles only rarely leave the sea.
‘Chelonians' applies to any brand,
so here I'll use this terminology.
Land dwellers share aquatic ancestry
and most of us decided to stay put.
Chelonians agreed to disagree.
A flippered revolution was afoot.
A late Triassic turtle fossil shows
a hard-shelled belly plate and softer back,
presumably to ward off fatal blows
from deeper-dwelling predators' attack.
Did top shell metaphorically ‘dissolve'
when full-shelled forebear sought the sea's embrace?
Or did an unshelled forebear's shell evolve
in oceanic pilgrimage retrace?
Genetic sleuthing points to latter case.
The evidence suggests that once again,
the tortoise forebears left their liquid space
and plodded (swam?) to shore with sigh, 'amen'. *
From sea to shore to sea to shore once more.
You'd surely think a record lies therein.
Yet maybe making not three trips but four
is water loving cousin terrapin.
When next you gaze with love in tortoise eyes
and wonder at his mind's soliloquy,
from languid, longing looks you may surmise,
he's pondering ‘To sea or not to sea'.
poem by Diane Hine
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Related quotes
A tortoise
the tortoise is just inadequate
she has been treating
the same way everyone
of another kind
a supercilious front
to shroud weaknesses
broadcasting insouciance
with a hard hard shell
she knows she has a birthright
a hard headed advantage
with its shell signed
with letters from heaven
nobody is allowed even to knock on
it, protected species
here she is behaving in ways
that turn people away
without even knowing why
ten thousand years from now
she would be still in her same state
and behaving the same way
one big curvy hard hard shell
as the world shuttles to a new sphere
poor tortoise! poor tortoise!
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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A Tortoise's World!
Story of a tortoise who hid in his shell
Under the rock in the well
That is where it would dwell
Until one day a frog chased by a snake, did fell
Both, tortoise and frog were friends since they met
They had so much to talk, a lot of fun, you bet
Frog wanted to go home, leave a new friend, not to forget
Frog left, promised, soon it shall return and bring friends to get
Days passed and tortoise was sad and lonely
It rained and rained, and then came the day lovely
Frog came and came Frogs, croaking and singing jolly
Also were there tortoises, fishes and snails, Joy filled the world wholly!
poem by Manjeshwari P MYSORE
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Alankar(Decor) -69
Their Race Yet Not Over(Kyrielle Poem)
a narrative, it tells a story.
stanzaic, in quatrains.
syllabic, each line is 8 syllables. in iambic tetrameter.
written with a refrain in the 4th line of the quatrain.
rhyme scheme may vary. Quatrain options abaB, cbcB, dbdB
Their race yet not over with that
Else way tortoise as thought to race
To run, to swim in halves, to work-
Agreed the hare willing to race
Starting speeded with hare on land
Plodding slowed with tortoise to race
To help the river came on hand
Swam fast tortoise won first the race
Knowing not to swim the hare lost
Foolish was his challenge to race
Judging oneself the best way last
Is the way best to win the race
poem by Indira Renganathan
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Tortoise Shell
The Cross, the Cross
Goes deeper in than we know,
Deeper into life;
Right into the marrow
And through the bone.
Along the back of the baby tortoise
The scales are locked in an arch like a bridge,
Scale-lapping, like a lobster's sections
Or a bee's.
Then crossways down his sides
Tiger-stripes and wasp-bands.
Five, and five again, and five again,
And round the edges twenty-five little ones,
The sections of the baby tortoise shell.
Four, and a keystone;
Four, and a keystone;
Four, and a keystone;
Then twenty-four, and a tiny little keystone.
It needed Pythagoras to see life playing with counters on the living back
Of the baby tortoise;
Life establishing the first eternal mathematical tablet,
Not in stone, like the Judean Lord, or bronze, but in life-clouded, life-rosy tortoise shell.
The first little mathematical gentleman
Stepping, wee mite, in his loose trousers
Under all the eternal dome of mathematical law.
Fives, and tens,
Threes and fours and twelves,
All the volte face of decimals,
The whirligig of dozens and the pinnacle of seven.
Turn him on his back,
The kicking little beetle,
And there again, on his shell-tender, earth-touching belly,
The long cleavage of division, upright of the eternal cross
And on either side count five,
On each side, two above, on each side, two below
The dark bar horizontal.
The Cross!
It goes right through him, the sprottling insect,
Through his cross-wise cloven psyche,
Through his five-fold complex-nature.
So turn him over on his toes again;
Four pin-point toes, and a problematical thumb-piece,
Four rowing limbs, and one wedge-balancing head,
Four and one makes five, which is the clue to all mathematics.
The Lord wrote it all down on the little slate
Of the baby tortoise.
Outward and visible indication of the plan within,
The complex, manifold involvednes,s of an individual creature
Plotted out
On this small bird, this rudiment,
This little dome, this pediment
Of all creation,
This slow one.
poem by David Herbert Lawrence
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What You Are Saying
you once said
you are unhappy
you live on this hard shell
of a tortoise
and your burden
is such that you cannot
really move freely
as a bird with its wings
you wish the burden
melts into your skin
and it is done
then you say
the skin binds you
and the flesh and bone
are burdens too
you want something
lighter like the feathers
of a free bird
something light and easy
and verily free
and it is done
i am happy to see
you flying in the skies
doing some acrobatics
in space
chirping some melodies
under the trees
diving in the sea
teasing the rivers
and this hovering
on the cows
and today i hear
a different song
a sad song from a bird
by my window
it is you
you want to return
to the hard shell of
the tortoise
you miss the silence
and the privacy
of your hiding
now, you have doubts
what burdens are
what freedom is
and this cannot just
be easily done
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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358
you once said
you are unhappy
you live on this hard shell
of a tortoise
and your burden
is such that you cannot
really move freely
as a bird with its wings
you wish the burden
melts into your skin
and it is done
then you say
the skin binds you
and the flesh and bone
are burdens too
you want something
lighter like the feathers
of a free bird
something light and easy
and verily free
and it is done
i am happy to see
you flying in the skies
doing some acrobatics
in space
chirping some melodies
under the trees
diving in the sea
teasing the rivers
and this hovering
on the cows
and today i hear
a different song
a sad song from a bird
by my window
it is you
you want to return
to the hard shell of
the tortoise
you miss the silence
and the privacy
of your hiding
now, you have doubts
what burdens are
what freedom is
and this cannot just
be easily done
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Crisis Counselor
She was a coat of arms
seasoned for the job -- tough
and polished like tortoise shell.
When the women were tougher,
she'd tuck her advice-giving head
back against the executive chair,
let them try to fluff bent feathers,
watch them falling to their feet.
Then, her little turtle arms
would stretch out across the desk;
try to float a form --
a restraining order, maybe
a list of early warning signs --
but they'd keep on sleeping, sleep
hard through the sessions she'd spend
blowing on plastic ships, paper sails
rarely reaching port, and they would cry
like little children watching helpless,
dazed as she sunk their dreamboats,
sat on them, no coming up for air.
And perhaps she'd think of the little turtles
we'd kept confined to bathtubs as kids,
or of the public safety commercials
telling mother how, if she turned her back,
we could fall to sleep, slide and drown
in barely an inch of sitting water.
Tortosise and the Hare: The true story
So you think tortoise
won the race,
not so.
Today the last
of Hare's descendants
passed on.
Oh his death
bed from his
lips came this,
my great, great
so many grandfather
was bribed,
to throw the race,
to the Tortoise
by the way of carrots,
his greatest weakness
you didn't really think
the Tortoise could have
won do you. Then he passed on.
wrote 4-14-07
The Tortoise (Love Poem)
This girl came to my party,
And petted my tortoise,
In nineteen sixty four,
When I was eight, and
No-one noticed, not even me.
She still complains today
That she missed out on
Her jelly and ice-cream,
When she was seven, and
No one noticed, not even me.
I think when ten years later this
Beautiful blonde said yes, she
Would be mine, and is today, this
Tortoise slow was still around, and
No one noticed, not even me.
I tell our children now grown-up,
That I have found a tortoise is
The perfect way to find the girl,
Who will be yours forever, when
You are eight and she is seven.
poem by Ian Beckett
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It's the tortoise's shell, ugly and hard that protects its life long journey on earth.
A broken string of a Cello
The poet TYP (Pseudonym) in the poetfreak who introduced me the greatest cellist Jaquueline Mary du Pre. Merits for him!
Jaqueline Mary du Pre was a British Cellist
One of the great players,
Her career was cut short
By multiple *Scierosis, which forced her to cease
Performing at the age 28, and led to her premature death
At the age of 42.
Death always a dilemma for me?
Just imagine a hard shell tortoise lives for a long
And this poor human beings bring to the guillotine
Within a short period?
Who thinks human being's a guinea pig for their experiments?
Anyway it's not fair indeed and the guise of the Life is ridiculous!
* Abnormal hardening of the body tissue?
Human should get only the soul and live a long like the tortoise!
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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The developers, if they decide to move a tortoise, have to pay the long-term costs for enhancing the areas that take care of the tortoise, and it gives us the opportunity to manage an area that is going to be protected.
quote by Gale Norton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I took my lyre and said
I took my lyre and said:
Come now, my heavenly
tortoise shell: become
a speaking instrument
Paradigms of an ocean
The paradigms of the ocean
Dissolve in your eyes
I look away
But my eyes keep returning
To yours
And when they meet
At the fringes
Of the eternal ocean
I drown in a bubble
On the foam
On the shore
Perhaps the time has come
For another ocean
I shake off the drops
But the water clings
To me
And every nuance of skin
Is wet
With the moisture
Of your sweat
On your lips
Emancipation will not be mine
Until you have left the shore
Free me
Leave the shore
Or draw me into your depths
Forever
Pratip
17 November 2007
poem by Pratip Sen Gupta
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Watch The Race
Watch the race
Here is the hare
And the tortoise
It is funny for the hare
And a serious game
For tortoise.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
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Drifting Too Far
Out on the perilous deep,
Where danger silently creeps,
And storm's so violently sweeping,
You're drifting too far from shore.
Chorus:
Drifting too far from shore,
You're drifting too far from shore,
Come to Jesus today,
Let Him show you the way
You're drifting too far from shore.
Today, the Tempest rose high,
And clouds o'er shadow the sky.
Sure death is hovering neigh,
You're drifting too far from shore.
Drifting too far from shore,
You're drifting too far from shore,
Come to Jesus today,
Let Him show you the way
You're drifting too far from shore.
Why meet a terrible fate?
Mercies abundantly wait.
Turn back before it's too late
You're drifting too far from shore.
Drifting too far from shore
You're drifting too far from shore (peaceful shore)
Come to Jesus today. Let him show you the way
You're drifting too far from shore...
song performed by by Emmylou Harris
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Little Turtle Called Muddle
There was a little turtle
and his name was Muddle
because at times he got confused
could not remember if he was
a tortoise or a turtle.
Had Muddle been brought up
in the wild
he would not have been confused,
but he was brought up in captivity
and now he was not sure what he was suppose to be.
Now Muddle lived a sheltered life.
He had no friends or playmates
to keep him company.
Then one day in his glass cage,
his owners put in someone new.
Now he had someone to talk to.
The newcomer stayed in his shell
afraid to come out. He felt safe in there,
thinking no one could see him
when he was
tucked inside his shell.
Muddle moved up to him
and nudged him with his shell.
“Have you gone to sleep in there? ”
Muddle asked as turtles do.
“Come on out,
no one is going to hurt you.”
The stranger poked his head out
and gave a look around.
“Who are you? ” he asked.
“My name is Muddle. What is your name? ”
“My name is Timmy
because I’m rather timid.”
After their introductions,
Muddle and Timmy
settled in for a long chat.
They talked to on another
between little snacks,
from sunrise to sunset.
Now Muddle had his company,
someone he always wanted,
and Timmy had a friend too.
They both lived together happily
and as they grew older
Muddle found he wasn’t Muddle at all.
As it turned out
Muddle was not Muddle,
But Marianne.
He was not a boy, but a little girl.
Now Marianne and Timmy
live together happily.
They are hoping for
the patter of little feet
in the not to distant future
as they start their family
and live happily ever after.
6 - 7 May 2008
poem by David Harris
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In The Sweet By And By
There's a land that is fairer than day
And by faith we can see it afar
For the father waits over the way
To prepare us a dwelling place there
In the sweet by and by
We shall meet on that beautiful shore
In the sweet by and by
We shall meet on that beautiful shore
We shall sing on that beautiful shore
The melodious songs of the blest
And our spirit shall sorrow no more
Not a sign for the blessing of rest
In the sweet by and by
We shall meet on that beautiful shore
In the sweet by and by
We shall meet on that beautiful shore
In the sweet by and by
We shall meet on that beautiful shore
In the sweet by and by
We shall meet on that beautiful shore
In the sweet by and by
In the sweet by and by, ohh
song performed by by Dolly Parton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Beautiful Mind
Dwelling in the crown
creating illusions through imagination
raising hopes and expectations
causing perplexity and confusion
an illusion as real as the truth
and the truth subject to perception
good and evil both vie for the supremacy
like the tortoise and the hare respectively
thoughts and actions playing in their hands
abetting the fight sometimes
clouding the sunshine
but not always.
Righteous
ultimately seeking the right path slowly
casting away the seven sins
the mind wins
like the tortoise.
---x-----
All rights reserved/Tribhawan Kaul
poem by Tribhawan Kaul
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