15 - regret

(I've asked people to send in pictures for me to write about. This picture was sent by the lovely Crystal.)

(noun)-–

the weight of a body on your back,
staring in a direction
in which you failed to move

mother’s voice
and father’s voice

how did you come this far
without noticing

the stranger following behind,
his arachnid legs click-clicking
as he drags himself
over scarred pavement
after you?




(Notes: It's funny that Crystal should send me this image to work with, for two reasons: 1) I've been dealing with some feelings of regret and guilt over some weird stuff lately, and 2) I've, completely coincidentally, become addicted to Florence + the Machine's new single, "Shake It Out," which addresses such feelings. It's an awesome song, much better than the poem I just produced on the subject. Go listen to it: )

14 - open wide

if I take into my mouth
all the red universe
will I
speak something perfect?

will I make
you a gift of words,
let slip between
my teeth some
holy psalm?

be honest
for a minute there
you thought I was
going to say something sexual
didn’t you?






(This week's image was sent to me by my beautiful friend Shelly, whose name is too perfect for this blog. It depicts the five minutes in which a sulcata tortoise is actually smaller than something.)

Laptop has returned

My computer has returned from the shop, meaning that I now have regular internet access again, and I've made some progress on my doctoral thingy, so The Shelled Life resumes this week.

13 - gopher

why should I want to look at you
when you are cold

so cold that it makes my eyes hurt
just to be near you
and so open that none of my armor will keep me
from the sight of birds?

because, you tell me, even cold
can be beautiful
and birds are sometimes wrong

God is open, you tell me

come outside
God still loves
the grumpy and the unimpressed.






(I wanted to write about gopher tortoises, which, with the cabybara, share the title of The Most Unimpressed Animals Ever.

Image credit: copyright Reed Bingham Park, via this site.)

12 - mangrove (for the newly found hawksbills of the East Pacific, previously thought extinct)

(Quick note: this poem had three inspirations: a news report, a picture, and the song "Everything" by Helen Jane Long. Feel free to listen to the song as you read, since I was listening to it on repeat while I wrote this.)























because you looked for me in Eden
I went to the mangrove
where I took a lover
and fed on the moon itself

thirty years later
I still
have a belly full of salt

Let me whisper
the new religion to you
in the language of photosynthesis

so deep into your ear, my love,
that you still

feel the warmth of my voice
flooding your insides

as the roots
close around you.



(Inspired by the weekend's news that the hawksbill turtle has, while appearing to be extinct from the East Pacific shores, actually adapted to live in the salty estuaries of the East Pacific coast. Reports can be read at the Huffington Post (with pictures!) and on the BBC.

The move is particularly surprising because these turtles have previously inhabited rocky, coral-laden waters. Their newfound habitat is quite the opposite of what biologists and conservationists have known for their species. For the past three decades, these turtles have been feeding, mating, laying eggs, and thriving by the roots of the mangroves. According to this weekend's reports, biologists will now seek to learn the exact adaptations these hawksbills have undergone, and conservationists renew their call to protect the mangroves from human destruction.

Image from this photoreport of an East Pacific trip. Note: That looks more like a green turtle than a hawksbill, but the image was nonetheless appropriate.)

Update

Two things have conspired to make my updates less frequent these past couple of weeks: 1) I caught a really awesomely awful cold and have barely wanted to move from the sofa, and 2) My laptop's power button stopped working, meaning I've had very, very limited access to the internet. In addition, I've been getting more stuff together for my PhD project, and I'd severely underestimated the amount of time and effort that would take.

Turtle poems will resume this week. I might actually post two instead of one.

11 - ugly girl

a face which
only a mother could love

---------ugly girl
made of stones
Mississippi
statue

daughter
of the flood

How many men
have found you on
the river bottom,
have taken your body
and turned it
upside down

how many
have made you
their bride

like Ophelia,
shuddering
as she drowned



(Image of this lovely snapper: unknown. But the turtle is awesome.)