World- spectacle, grips
like Octopus' tentacles;
True vision- illumines.
haiku by Mamta Agarwal
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An Ode to Paul
A soothe- saying invertebrate
Takes the world stage by storm
By accurately predicting winners
And by deduction the losers too
The ecstatic winners are thrilled
To offer him goodies and publish
Eulogies about his stunning feat
In accurately predicting their wins
The losers of course have their guns
Trained on the poor psychic octopus
Some onlookers observe the scene
With a quiet sense of amusement
As the creature hogs the headlines
“Preserve him, give him 24/7 security”
Shout the soccer tournament winners
“Get your pans ready for fried octopus
Hopefully Paul will make a tasty dish”
Shout the more distraught losers
The muse in me, sits back and wonders
“What is the world coming to - if our
Future lies in the tentacles of an octopus! ! ”
poem by Sandra Martyres
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The family, that dear octopus from whose tentacles we never quite escape, nor in our innermost hearts never quite wish to.
quote by Dodie Smith
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The family-that dear octopus from whese tentacles we never quite escape nor, in our inmost hearts, ever quite wish to.
quote by Dodie Smith
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Octopi Opportunities
octopus opportunities searching
tentacles reaching
grasping opportunities eightfold
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Its A Miracle
You wouldnt believe where Ive been,
The cities and towns I been in,
From boston to denver
And every town in between.
The people they all look the same,
Only the names have been changed.
But now that Im home again
Ill tell you what I believe:
Its a miracle
A true blue spectacle,a miracle come true.
Were together baby,
I was goin crazy till the miracle come through.
Now youre here and my arms
Are around you and baby
Theyll be dancin in the streets
For the miracle a true blue spectacle,
The miracle is you
I never knew you look so good.
Oh I never knew anyone could.
I must have been crazy
To every have gone away.
I almost forgot what its like,
Holdin you near me at night.
But now that Im home again
Youll know that Im home to stay,
Cause its a miracle a true blue spectacle,
A miracle come true.
Were together baby,
I was going crazy till the miracle come through.
Im feeling so good,
And baby theyll be dancing in the streets
For the miracle a true blue spectacle,
The miracle is you.
song performed by by Barry Manilow
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Octopus
only one person
in the whole world
the way we say
there is only one god
a moving tentacle
slap it and the soul cringes
chop it and the octopus
is not the same again
the whole world trembles
to absorb loss of every soul
the way the octopus swirls
to its new state with a lost limb
the way everybody is to the whole
the one person, one god
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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A Spiked Balloon
A Puffer fish was in a cross huff,
he had suddenly run out of puff.
‘How can I keep my system alive,
when danger to me, might well arrive‘.
He met up with an electric Eel,
who said, ‘I do know just how you feel,
t’was shocking, when I lost my power,
all I could do was hide and cower‘.
An Octopus with tentacles long,
said, ’now come on, tell me what is wrong’,
And after he’d heard the sorry tale,
he had a word with his friend the Whale.
‘We’ve decided it’s a rest you need,
your life’s been lived at tremendous speed.
you must slow down and take things easy,
you’ll most likely be feeling queasy‘.
‘Take a week off and find somewhere nice,
your puff will reappear in a trice.
you’ve blown yourself and you require rest,
listen to us, we know what is best‘.
So, for a whole seven lazy days,
the Puffer fish, not one fin did raise.
He recouped his strength, and very soon,
his body became a spiked balloon.
He thanked Octopus, who left propelled,
also Whale, who he thought had excelled.
And though not now scared to face his foes,
Eel follows close, wherever he goes.
JUST IN CASE.! ! ! !
poem by Ernestine Northover
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There Is No Direction
i admit, there is no direction
to follow, my feet keep walking,
my mind runs out of control,
imagination is an octopus
with tentacles, black is the color
of its defense, shoots and
moves, hides inside
a cave of stone,
getting away from
everyone.
where to go?
follow me, says The Feet.
a weak mind
easily submits to be taken
anywhere.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Octopus
Tell me, O Octopus, I begs
Is those things arms, or is they legs?
I marvel at thee, Octopus;
If I were thou, I'd call me Us.
poem by Ogden Nash
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Dying To Live
Eight kisses of death and I am alive
My chest is still bleeding
Come brother, come,
stitch my wounds.
Whom shall we believe, rebirth
or life after death?
Both are study of wasteland.
To speak through angels is difficult these
days and prayer has run
out its charm.
I want to swim with octopus
again,
to test its suckered tentacles.
The envy of ocean cannot stop me.
Tonight the burning candle is going to live.
poem by Satish Verma
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I said Don’t Tell Me
Don’t tell me of a world of masterful politicians
Don’t tell me of a world of embattled coalitions
Don’t tell me of a world of the spin doctors slurs
Cannot perceive the blindness as the vision blurs
Don’t tell me of a world of the dominance in hate
Don’t tell me of a world in riches for who last ate
Don’t tell me of a world of trades in bloodied furs
Cannot perceive the blindness as the vision blurs
Do tell me of a world where a heart seeks allures
Do tell me of a world for when tranquillity conquers
Do tell me of a world empowered as rebellion stirs
Cannot perceive the blindness as the vision blurs
Don’t tell me of a world of violent augmentation
Don’t tell me of a world in servitude of aggression
Don’t tell me of a world of pennies before the cures
Cannot perceive the blindness as the vision blurs
Don’t tell me of a world of the lost and the listless
Don’t tell me of a world of a dying disciple so lifeless
Don’t tell me of a world infested by human aggressors
Cannot perceive the blindness as the vision blurs
Do tell me of a world that the politician fought for freedom
Do tell me of a world where we dropp the food not the bomb
Do tell me of a world when making love new life occurs
Cannot perceive the blindness as the vision blurs
Do tell me of a world for grain that fed the thousand starving
Do tell me of a world when a day broke in a child’s laughing
Do tell me of a world where I can drink from purest streams
I can start to perceive though to only make sense in dreams
poem by Vision Ghost
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Tall Promises
I am asking
who is calling the shots?
The time makes noise,
and silence brings pain.
Years go by.
Night of stars and moon
develops a sonorous dream.
All kinds of brutes and aborigines come to parade
flaunting their arms and ammunition.
Where they are going in veils?
The body of truth is already lying in state.
Magnified eyes stare at micro images
of windows,
through which you could see
long tentacles of an octopus.
Meditation helps for a while,
contradictions arise again.
The empty spaces are being encroached
upon by tall promises.
poem by Satish Verma
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Look at the sunrise and sunset as a spectacle of the ephemeral, as a scene where people climb noisily and pass silently into oblivion, a spectacle in which colors are born and die in the frenzy of the sun.
Look at the sunrise and sunset as a spectacle of heaven as long as you are in time, combining the beauty within you with perfect sincerity in your relationship with God.
Camelia Oprița in from the book The wall of thoughts (2020)
Submitted by Akexander
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I Have a Vision
A vision like a dream
Living in a dreamy world
Like living in heaven
A place where we can't find here
Send forth our wishes
Every day I see myself in a mirror
Wishing a vision
Of my own vision
Having to have a vision
Blind to see my life mission
Walking into this sanction world
Without know why we are here
So I have a vision
To call God comes again
To save us from sin and
Ask His forgiveness, blessings and graces.
poem by Lawrence Hiung
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Inside = Outside = Equal fascination
writing poetry
suddenly i realise
it is to a journey to
my own sanctuary
where i get a better
inkling of myself
those who read
and could follow
pick up a few
pieces of diamonds
i look into myself
and find a universe
similar to the one without
unreachable, without end
god's geometry
within and without
this human frame
would work out
- for me - to be only this;
equal fascination
two coins of the same
thing?
the real solution
perhaps we have
to wait for the
eternal master
to come with the
real formula
when we close our eyes
and look within
does it mean we look
into everyone's else
universes too
the ones locked in
each of us
unreachable, without end?
are we hands and legs
of the same spirit
like what the tentacles
are to the giant octopus?
are we lost in these universes
that bind themselves to us?
these universes a parasite
to our soul? the satan that refuses
to let go?
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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In The Grips Of Tough Times
In the grips of tough times,
It's hard to hold back...
From gritting on teeth.
It's even more difficult to be real nice...
To someone seeing life,
Sugared and spiced.
In the grips of tough times,
Childish minds can much annoy.
And giving this attention can cause a big riff,
When an immaturity is involved in it.
In the grips of tough times,
It takes a lot to find peace of mind.
But if it means leaving petty scenes,
Don't waste a dime or the time leaving this behind.
In the grips of tough times,
It's hard to hold back...
From gritting on teeth.
It's even more difficult to be real nice...
To someone seeing life,
Sugared and spiced.
In the grips of tough times,
Don't be seduced to play the fool somebody uses.
No!
In the grips of tough times,
Don't be seduced to play the fool somebody uses.
No!
In the grips of tough times,
Don't be seduced to play the fool somebody uses.
Don't be seduced to play the fool somebody uses.
No!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Yet more Ogdenashicals. just for fun
Ermintrude the echidna
lost her diamond tiara.
Her husband trying to be kind
softly whispered never mind
It never suited your behind.
Coromandel crocodile
whilst swimming in the River Nile
Yawned and swallowed a canoe.
his mother cried this will not do
You make me so ashamed of you.
Caroline the kinkajou
liked a glass of wine or two
Which made her act indecently
so that very frequently
She was confined for her own safety.
Sebastian a young male skunk
was a most aggressive drunk.
Until he met his waterloo
and picked upon a kangaroo.
Who showed him what a roo can do.
Gustavus gorilla thumped his chest
to show the world he was the best
When a stray hunter with a gun
shot Gustavus just for fun
I do not think he should have done.
An octopus can count to eight
the number of his tentacles
I’m sure you will appreciate
it’s one of natur’s miracles
At least I think so more or less.
We rattle snakes are dangerous
but only if you anger us.
We aren’t aggressive naturally
We much prefer to lie quietly
and will do if you leave us be.
17/10/2009
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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To be nice is at a cost.
A nice girl is an unhappy girl
As she lives with her tentacles curled up.
A nice man is a brewing man
As he lives with his tentacles bent up.
08.01.2006
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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The moon of a bright silver, which dazzles by its shining, illumines a world which surely is no longer ours; for it resembles in nothing what may be seen in other lands.
quote by Pierre Loti
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Soccer Prediction!
Octopus soccer prediction
Decides the victory for world cup
Among nations for 2010!
poem by Ramesh T A
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