The Symbol Of My Clan Is The Frog, But Why?
it must be because it is tailless,
aquatic,
semiaquatic,
or terrestrial amphibians
a smooth moist skin,
webbed feet,
and long hind legs adapted for leaping.
or is it because it is wedge-shaped
and can very well
be taken as a
horny prominence in the sole of a horse's hoof
did my ancestors mean
a loop fastened to a
to hold a tool
a weapon?
what if they hinted on
an ornamental looped braid
or
cord with a button
or knot for
fastening the front of a garment?
well, a frog can also be understood as a
device on intersecting railroad tracks
that permits wheels to cross the junction
or a spiked or perforated
device used to support
stems in a flower arrangement
or the common nut of a violin bow
or the hoarseness
of voices
the phlegm
in our throats
or something so disparaging
for one who looks
like French,
you see, in our reunion
today
with the rest of the clan members
they all arrive at
one conclusion,
why did our ancestors
choose the frog
of all the creatures
in the river
nearby
where they once thrived and lived?
i still suspect
it was meant for
survival
the ability to live in both worlds of
land
and water
because in truth
they were once doves
escaping
from a very far island
to free themselves
from the snakes
and crocodiles
and dragons
and they were
almost annihilated
in the air
there
oh! how they hated
the fall
from the air
oh! how they disliked
air since then
now, they have
evolved
into frogs, and i feel like
i am
a very interesting tadpole
since then
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Related quotes
We, the amphibians
The aquatic has no longing for land.
The terrestrial has no fancy for sea.
It is the amphibians who are beset
With pro and con of land and sea.
0502.2012
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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‘Dogo Erectus’!
Standing on its hind-legs,
Wagging its long tail,
Panting with its tongue out,
Without its fore-legs!
Stands a dog so freak-born,
Until dusk, from morn;
Passers-by go pat him,
Giving things to eat!
Smiling canine always,
Walks like human beings;
With its hind-legs strong as
A Kangaroo’s back-feet!
Thrilling all the people,
Peering at the beast;
Stupefying crowds that
Throng to see his feat!
Living with just hind-legs,
The dog can’t go on fours;
Smiling to the people,
Everywhere, he goes.
Having just but two legs,
The dog walks, runs so neat;
‘What undaunted soul, God! ’
Say people on the street.
Copyright by Dr John Celes 6-26-2008
poem by John Celes
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Angels come as birds to Say Goodmorning!
An angel came as bird,
Sat wings folded, singing 'look it is time wake up.
it is morning that opens,
You are lawful inhabitant of this world,
good,
you evolved as terrestrial,
that life Confined to water as only aquatic,
Be not satisfied terrestrial,
work like an ant,
But not confine and be satisfied to be an ant,
just enjoy multidimensional universe,
Look at space and stars and galaxies,
Think about home celestial,
breathing air, wandering and wondering here,
Look at the distant goal!
Cleaning garbage of narrow thoughts,
Filling heart with Ever growing love,
Come fly with me,
Find imagination and intelligence,
Wings that help and make you fly!
Found yourself in heart,
Own and all hearts you see,
billions of worlds living in own heart!
Come on let us fly to divine,
Never you are limited
Nothing can confine.
It is all easy,
if efforts are determined!
poem by Ramdas Bhandarkar
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Be a tortoise
Gratitude and compassion are front legs;
Fortitude and tolerance are hind legs.
With these as limbs, one moves like a tortoise
But with a tough shell made of good will.
He can’t run with hares but can move safe.
08.03.2009
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Not Lust, but Care.
Tell me dear, that it was all true
That, it was not my shapely legs,
The size of my hips
The shape of my cheeks
The coolness of my lips
Nor
The soft colour of my skin
Tell me that you shall not bolt
When my knees shall be knocking and weary
When my lips shall have cracked and dry
When my face is wrinkled and my skin dry
You
Shall remain to care
and each we shall care
For then I shall know
It was not lust, but love.
poem by Charles Jagongo Ogola
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The Dance
The gym was dim.
Red and white balloons
glittered in the dusk
while flashing lights writhed
on the dark floor
like enchanted water-snakes
gliding through scented fog.
This was a celebration dance!
Eighth grade done at last,
they stepped, hesitant, into the roiling
teen-age sea, their synchronous, bobbing heads
attuned to the be-bop rhythms of the city (not their city) ,
and the lusty calls of the hood (not their hood) .
Smooth gym walls echoed the dj's mechanical angst
endless, relentless beats, the racing heart of the machine,
artificial sighs, nano-seconds long and gigabytes wide.
The boys, spinning on heads and leaping from hands and
flailing legs, showed an athleticism
never seen in PE,
while the girls huddled in their own dark corner
and planned their move;
their fashion walk,
legs strutting ahead
of swaying hips,
heels clicking the hard, dark floor,
as they stalked right up to the foul line
where boys were spinning and leaping
through throbbing lights
to the tribal, primal beat.
So the girls turned,
hips flung in defiance,
and sashayed back to the wall,
staring hard at the gaping boys
over their swaying shoulders.
poem by Steven Federle
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Mother Goddess
a circle of stars over
her head
hands holding white
flowers
her feet on top
of a snake
her long black hair
smooth skin
wavy eyelashes
slender fingers
virgin
pure
mother of all
in plaster of Paris
painted and revered
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Mountain And The Snake
a long black yellow snake with stripes
arrives hissing
looking for a prey
a rat perhaps
but there is none
not even an ant for a snack
and so the long black yellow snake with stripes of green
slides its way to a dark, moist cave
tight on its door
pushing its long slimy body
to the tip of the
cave's orifice to the end of its
intestine
it was a good tickle
and the whole body of the mountain
gives a tremble
a moan and from the slits of its sides
to the tip of its feet
and toes and trees
the whole body of the mountain
moans
happy with the long slimy body of the
snake's skin and bone.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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When you have got an elephant by the hind legs and he is trying to run away, it's best to let him run.
quote by Abraham Lincoln
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Insect
From your hips down to your feet
I want to make a long journey.
I am smaller than an insect.
Over these hills I pass,
hills the colour of oats,
crossed with faint tracks
that only I know,
scorched centimetres,
pale perspectives.
Now here is a mountain.
I shall never leave this.
What a giant growth of moss!
And a crater, a rose
of moist fire!
Coming down your legs
I trace a spiral,
or sleep on the way,
and arrive at your knees,
round hardness
like the hard peaks
of a bright continent.
Sliding down to your feet
I reach the eight slits
of your pointed, slow,
peninsular toes,
and from them I fall down
to the white emptiness
of the sheet, seeking blindly
and hungrily the form
of your fiery crucible!
poem by Pablo Neruda
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a lion-cloud
hind legs fixed on the sky
preying on a star!
quote by by Indira Babbellapati
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Frogga
Long long ago
In a faraway land
Lived a frog named
Mr. Stikitung Grand
Near a meander
In his little mud house
In rain you could hear him Croak,
Looking for a spouse
Rains came and went
But he never got a single mate
He tried every trick a frog could
Still no one fell for his bait
He would keep
Harnessing his vocals
Polishing his webbed digits and
Perfecting his focal
While his efforts were appreciated
And some found it cute
The girls still went out
With the true frogs, the slimy smooth
With Mr. Grand being so different
All warts and moles
Others wondered how
He would ever father tadpoles
Mr. Grand with his huge eyes
And big mouth could do very little
All these hurdles made Him
Too depressed and shittle
While there were uncertainties
Looming large on his life
Fellow amphibians were betting
On his chances of getting a wife
For termites said the caecilians
Calling others to join the hoot
For worms said salamander and
For cricket said the newt.
On the fateful day Mr. Grand got fed up
And was waiting to call it a night
When he heard a hiss
Loud enough to give him a fright
Hello said the snake why are you
In such a spiritual gloom
Come let us find out someone
Who can help you groom
Frog was surprised at snake’s kindness
And overwhelmed at his warmth
While his kinds were busy ridiculing him
Snakes words soothed him like a balm
At first he was cautious and
Kept a safe distance from the snake
But the snake kept saying he was hurt
That Mr. Grand still took his efforts as fake
I have nothing to lose thought Mr. Grand
And reached out for the help
Yum thought the snake and gulped Mr. Grand
Before he could think or yelp
Salamanders, newts, all of his fellow beings
Saw this but not a single tear was shed
Guess this comes with living a life
So cold blooded
There was a crocodile, who saw it all
Hidden behind a pier
Some say he was the only one who
Did shed some tears.
poem by Soma Mukherjee
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Sick World
now m well adapted to this sick world
cruel world
wild world
after being shattered
after being crushed
after being cheated
left with no other option
accepting the things the way they are
m adapted to this sick world
selfish world
insane world
after being frustated
after being alone
after being tortured
i gave up
accepting the people the way they are
m adapted to this sick world
poem by Richa Soni
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Leg
I know your legs are
On the legs of Baali the demon king
I know your legs are
On the head of Bharata your brother
I know your legs are on the
Head of Uddhaba your follower.
You have no leg I heard.
I Know you are present everywhere
Everytime and in everybody.
I do not know what a leg is.
I know the insect has six legs
I know the animal has four legs
I know the bird has two legs.
Your leg is my project paper
I do not know howmany legs you have
I do not know I a leg is.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
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The Bride
My love looks like a girl to-night,
But she is old.
The plaits that lie along her pillow
Are not gold,
But threaded with filigree silver,
And uncanny cold.
She looks like a young maiden, since her brow
Is smooth and fair,
Her cheeks are very smooth, her eyes are closed.
She sleeps a rare
Still winsome sleep, so still, and so composed.
Nay, but she sleeps like a bride, and dreams her dreams
Of perfect things.
She lies at last, the darling, in the shape of her dream,
And her dead mouth sings
By its shape, like the thrushes in clear evenings.
poem by David Herbert Lawrence
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Who Am I
In the bottom of a stream;
In water so pure and clean —
I live, an animal so strange,
Sensitive to every little change.
Just like a duck, I have webbed feet,
But I do not eat a bit of wheat.
I live in a long, dark hole,
But I am nowhere near a mole.
Every so often an egg I may lay,
But I do not fly, night or day.
I even have short, brown fur;
Just like a slinking cur.
When I go out at will,
I find my way with my bill.
My name rhymes with octopus.
I am a platypus;
And God made me so.
poem by Joses Tirtabudi
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Ghost of You
Whistling wind
Crashing waves
Hot white sand
And high caves
The smell of grass
The taste of sand
The sight of happiness
Cool skin 'gainst my hand
Footballs and soccer
Cameras and lenses
Exercise and hugs
Sitting watching movies
Hiking the bush
Cycling in the heat
Slaving at work
Blisters on my feet
Ur cool lips
Ur smooth legs
Ur delightful smile
things i won't forget
But no joy
Do they give
They merely remind
Me of what i could've
Everywhere i go
In the things i do
I'm constantly haunted
By the ghost of you
Trying so hard
To get you out my head
But The ghost of you
Still isnt dead
poem by Joses Tirtabudi
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