Sand crab follows Hot
Chilli crab he knows, beaut
like the tide, shore thing
haiku by Ken e Hall
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No Crab
Whether it's Crab soup,
or whether it's crab cakes,
whether it's crab puffs
or whether it's crab flakes
crab gumbo or crab dressing,
it's all the same to me,
for crab is crab is crab
and I detest the taste.
poem by Ruth Walters
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There is nothing fantastic or ultradimansional about crab grass... unless you are an sf writer, in which case pretty soon you are viewing crab grass with suspicion. What are it's real motives And who sent it here in the first place It only looks like crab grass. That's what they want us to think it is. One day the crab grass suit will fall off and their true identity will be revealed. By then the Pentagon will be full of crab grass and it'll be too late. The crab grass, or what we took to be crab grass, will dictate terms.
quote by Philip K. Dick
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Manteca
Written by dizzy gillespie and gil fuller
Crab in my shoemouth
Crab in my shoemouth
Crab in my shoemouth
Crab in my, crab in my, crab in my shoemouth
Crab in my shoemouth
Crab in my shoemouth
Crab in my shoemouth
Crab in my, crab in my, crab in my shoemouth
song performed by by Phish
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Grinning Crab
Come with me, said the fish to the crab
and I will show you a cave where beautiful coral live.
When do we leave, said the crab to the fish
and tell me what I should bring.
Just bring a sense of adventure, said the fish to the crab, and some sun tan oil
You forget, said the crab to the fish, my shell is thick and impenetrable by rays of any kind.
What about the metal-tipped arrows, asked the fish of the crab, from a cheeky cherub?
Oh they don’t stand a chance, said the crab with a grin.
The fish, having eyes that could not blink, felt the molten tears sting his star-crossed eyes.
poem by Vernon Adrian Emuang
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Walk straight, my son - as the old crab said to the young crab.
The Little Crab
As the little crab climbed
To the top of the basket
Hoping to make an escape
The bigger crabs pulled him down
And when the consignment
Did reach the market place
The Fisherman’s son was delighted
To find a small crab in the bag
He picked it up carefully
Drooling at the thought of soup
But this time the little crab
Reacted fast, he bit the boy’s hand
Falling quickly to the ground
As the child reduced his grip
Undaunted by the crack in his shell
He scuttled away in search of
A safer place, far away from
Fishing baskets, boys and big crabs.
poem by Sandra Martyres
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Green Circle
You are peeling me off
like a crab.
Time has sunk very low.
For the hungry kids
who was growing crab apples?
Creating art,
arriving between the pubes.
A microfossil
roosting within me.
I could live without oxygen.
Incandescent,
the liquid wounds.
I will not send any salvo.
poem by Satish Verma
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The New Teacher
he prides himself about
this job
where he is all wise
and his students listen
he drives the points
like he's the hammer to
his nails
somehow the old teacher
listens
it is not supposed to
be
he picks a snail
a house actually where the hermit
crab lives
he whistles and the crab comes
out
learning the song of the
master
the wind, soft as breeze
the openness like the wide gate
of the morning sun
between the breasts of the hills
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Tonight I Just Need My Guitar
Gulf coast nights, flounder lights
I'm back on the Eastern shore
With my history of wrecks
I think It's time to check
The crab trap of life once more
Need is a relative thing these days
It borders on desire
The high tech world is full of bright shiny things
We think that we really require
Sometimes more than others
You see who and what and where You are
I'm a one-man band with no Immediate plans
Tonight I just need my guitar
Don't need to feel important or famous
No limos or my little Nash car
One lucky man
With my feet in the sand
Tonight I just need my guitar
song performed by by Jimmy Buffett
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Down By The Sea
Where the tumbling frothing surf,
Meets the sand dunes' spiky turf,
And daring seagulls dive and screech,
Above the sunny sandy beach,
Inventive children with bucket and spade,
Run down from the esplanade.
Lobster pots are drawn up to dry,
Beneath the blue and breezy sky,
And seaweed waiting for the tide,
Lies still, with nowhere else to hide,
And the tangy, salty languid air,
Makes one want to stand and stare.
A crab who liked the noonday heat,
Makes a speedy fast retreat,
As all his space has been invaded,
By humans looking for a shaded
Place to sit, and rest, and play,
On this hot shifting sand, today.
Then wafting gentle winds whose kiss,
Anoint our bodies with cooling bliss,
As through the hours of burning sun,
We try to get our tans well done.
They, nowhere else, could better be,
Than on the shore, down by the sea.
poem by Ernestine Northover
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Have you ever watched a crab on the shore crawling backward in search of the Atlantic Ocean, and missing? That's the way the mind of man operates.
quote by H.L. Mencken
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I am a baby Crab
I am a little Crab
Rests a while at shore
When the next wave comes
I'll go with her!
[ If the life asks; Let me know something about you, definitely I forward my tattered resume here but I know exactly that she's a blunder mute! ]
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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The Poet Of Ignorance
Perhaps the earth is floating,
I do not know.
Perhaps the stars are little paper cutups
made by some giant scissors,
I do not know.
Perhaps the moon is a frozen tear,
I do not know.
Perhaps God is only a deep voice
heard by the deaf,
I do not know.
Perhaps I am no one.
True, I have a body
and I cannot escape from it.
I would like to fly out of my head,
but that is out of the question.
It is written on the tablet of destiny
that I am stuck here in this human form.
That being the case
I would like to call attention to my problem.
There is an animal inside me,
clutiching fast to my heart,
a huge carb.
The doctors of Boston
have thrown up their hands.
They have tried scalpels,
needles, poison gasses adn the like.
The crab remains.
It is a great weight.
I try to forget it, go about my business,
cook the broccoli, open the shut books,
brush my teeth and tie my shoes.
I have tried prayer
but as I pray the crab grips harder
and the pain enlarges.
I had a dream once,
perhaps it was a dream,
that the crab was my ignorance of God.
But who am I to believe in dreams?
Anonymous submission.
poem by Anne Sexton
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Ejection, Injection!
An injection,
I can help you with my love;
Ejection, injection!
The crab man,
The crab woman;
Rejection, injection!
The wolf man,
The wolf woman;
To see eye to eye.
Love can give life a whole new meaning!
So, keep on waiting on my love;
For, i can help you with my love.
Math, bath!
True love is very precious than money;
And, i can help you with my love.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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0012 'Only one life was lost in this disaster
The water’s not so deep
down here, it’s still stirred
on the sea-bed by the off-shore tide.
The seaweed waves in slow rhythm, almost gracefully.
Sometimes a crab, going somewhere not apparent
with laborious stubborn intent
displaces very slightly the bone-white skeleton
lying on its back, almost relaxed, almost temporary,
as if waiting for time to give some signal
to turn those stark claws back into a son’s hands
or the current turns a few degrees the eyeless head,
the young jaw, as a light sleeper
in a dream, submissive to the tide;
peaceful; down here
in this filtered light
death, grief, tears, a mother's memories
seem unknown, have no place.
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Traces
Each day is filled with tiny traces
Like footprints of a deer in snow
Or silky snail tracks in small places
And crab holes when the tide is low
Each breath exhaled and new step taken
Leaves markings not to be erased
Small cherished patterns fain forsaken
In nature’s cunning woven lace
The crumbs that fall from modest tables
Are soon retrieved by little ants
A spider’s web the stuff of fables
Embraces woodland’s lushest plants
We make a difference as we wander
Among the throng and rush of day
Our every movement filled with wonder
Touched by a gentle force at play
When pride and prejudice surround us
And things are quite beyond control
Just look at lowly trusting creatures
Their humble ways refresh the soul
No need to faint when your tracks wither
In heat of sun and loss of hope
That pearly snail keeps creeping hither
While deer and crabs still run and grope
Each day we live we leave small traces
Like footprints of a deer in snow
Or silky snail tracks in small places
Or crab holes when the tide is low.
poem by Liilia Talts Morrison
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The Hermit Crab
The hermit crabs life is all but exciting live all alone
and in the sahdows in the bottom of the teary sea
feelings no comfort and no love this crab is all alone
no friends and allways hurting everyone
he use to have friends till the day he found him self this shell of dark sleeping alone
and being alone this crab used that bad to fell worse
we the other crabs of life the ones that live a full happy life
need to find him/her and bring this hermit out of it's shell
show to the hermit that talking isn't all bad
but being alone is talk about your problems dont hide in a shell
Segurista (wary)
================================================= ===========
he hermit crab crawls
always carrying its small shell house
fearing that there might be fire on the shore
==================================== ========================
umang nga gakamang kanunay
dala-dala ang iyang balay-gamay
kay hadlok masunog ang baybay
=================================== =========================
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Don't You See?
The day was hotter than words can tell,
So hot the jelly-fish wouldn't jell.
The halibut went all to butter,
And the catfish had only force to utter
A faint sea-mew - aye, though some have doubted,
The carp he capered and the horn-pout pouted.
The sardonic sardine had his sly heart's wish
When the angelfish fought with the paradise fish.
'T was a sight gave the bluefish the blues to see,
But the seal concealed a wicked glee-
The day it went from bad to worse,
Till the pickerel picked the purse-crab's purse.
And the crab felt crabedder yet no doubt,
Because the oyster would n't shell out.
The sculpin would sculp, but had n't a model,
And the coddlefish begged for something to coddle.
But to both the dolphin refused its doll,
Till the whale was oblidged to whale them all.
poem by Katharine Lee Bates
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