Bug-Day Afternoon

[normal jean]

Tomatoes plants hem
the edge
of my rented yard.

I have faith
that a move will occur
sooner than later

and for a third spring
( in a row)
my garden grows
with that hope against hope

type of feeling
that maybe we won't
have to move after all

but the plants don't care
where they blossom
or fruit, yet they put down

white and wiry roots
anyway.

 

[champagne1982]

The seeds germinate
rain falls and life
takes root in the strangest
climes along with hope
faith and the rest

Sounds like names
to give your daughters
born at the start
of the last century.

 

[normal jean]

The seeds germinate
rain falls and life
takes root in the strangest
climes along with hope
faith and the rest

Sounds like names
to give your daughters
born at the start
of the last century.

Carrie!!

Thank you for planting such a beautiful flower in this little garden.

 

[normal jean]

Vacancy upon the Hill

There is a vacancy- At the old frog pond.
I acquired this luscious tidbit through
the grapevine, no not really, I never had
any grapes...it came to me via birdsong.

Darwin, at present, is the captive finch
that resides in the green wire cage
right outside our front screened door.
I am fairly confident that what he tells me
is true, after all, what has he to gain by lying?

But I digress, let me get on with the story.

Last I heard, Magellan Frog was best described
as "disgruntled" although I can't imagine
what in his slimy world he might encounter
to disturbed his normally gruntled nature.

Perhaps it was his fruitless search for a mate.
We all were aware of his enamored state
of mind when it came to matters of Tammy Toad
but he had been forbidden, disallowed to date
outside his own speckled species.

Oh, How badly I feel for him, as I too,
once loved a toad...


Darwin informed me, his cheeks filled with millet
that Magellan Frog had made a decision
he thought it best to leave, just move along.
So Magellan moved along,
and young Picasso Frog accompanied him.

Picasso Frog was a newbie, ( take the 'was' as a clue here, boys)
barely out of his tadpole suit
when he came up with the grand idea
of moving across the newly paved road.
The back way, through the woods
would have been much, much better.

But Magellan was always up for adventure
and being snubbed by the Family Toad
seemed to increase his need for departure.
So when Picasso suggested they both just up and leave,
there was not much to consider.

The Tammy Toad bridge to love was burned
and Magellan Frog took this as a sign
of better things to come. But that only lasted
Until he witnessed the tragedy of Picasso Frog
who in his haste for adventure, looked left
looked right then crossed,
without a second look to the left.

And thus the vacancy, upon the hill,
at the old frog pond is for an artiste frog.
Perhaps a Monet Frog would do, lily pads
and all, and perhaps a second look, too,
at the freshly hatched batch of spring girls
who cannot giggle or sigh
but hide behind nasturtium and clover

whenever he comes around, yes a second look
might just prove productive
in the ways of froggy reproduction
if not, at least he'll get some practice
in the ways of froggy seduction.

 

[rosco rathbone]

Bug Day!

First off
you've got ze answer

[Misereen] all its skin

Bug day
Bug day

Midges - midges hovered over the heather
3 moths shivered
Green moths shivered
Cockroaches moldered in the ground
Tonguehorns belched fire

So, fleed at sea
Terrors hit water
Minoa said 'eek'
Minoa said 'eek'

Sea reaffirms some things
We learned some things
People behave very wrong
Create company
Green is starboard, back
Left is port, there
Old continental women
Coffee cups poised on front

Facing up to the sea is a very hard thing
Facing up to sea is a v. hard thing
Anything is better than bug day

Bug day
Bug day
Bug day
But day

[mumbles]

Bug day

Anything is better than bug day

Bug day
Bug day

-lyrics by Mark E Smith/The Fall

 

[normal jean]

Magellan Frog Plots His Departure

Because someone asked.... I am reposting a few tails from the pond


~~~~

Magellan Frog Plots His Departure

Magellan Frog is kingdom explorer,
frowned upon by Frog King
for being rash and irresponsible.

He spends his days admiring
a verdant patch of centipede grass
that grows beneath the wisteria vine.

Magellan Frog has formulated his plan:
1) escape to far off grassy land
2) command worldwide frog respect
3) rescue Princess Frog from wicked son
of neighboring frog king’s brother
4) spend life eating bees
and fertilizing eggs, and eating bees, and...

The only real problem with Magellan Frog
is his inability to plan or comprehend
the consequences of leaving
his small though adequate pond,

So he ventures away, binocular vision
set upon the gourmet cuisine
that inhabits the land beneath the vine-

He hops...he hesitates...
he lowers his head
and.....he.....waits.

Big Hop and he lands, three feet away
from home, away from the Frog King
And (he hadn’t thought of this)
away from Water!

Magellan Frog frantically hops
back to the little pond where he plans
his next foray into the world-

Away from this particular pond
and even further away
from the disapproving eyes of Frog King
~~~

 

[normal jean]

Eviction of Sinister Toad

July afternoon, humid and hot
green frogs peeking from deep below
a foot of warm pond water, and there
beneath a lily pad is Sir Bug Glutton
also known as Frog King.


I have seen him surface for glimpses,
gulp of air, then glance and dive
again into the shallow, he is a patient fellow
and he knows there lies beyond this pond
the army of his rival, Sinister Toad.

With his right eye missing,
he’s a reptile with a mission , and he’ll allow
no frogs in his way. As he has hopped all day
and pirated the hole at the base
of the young cedar tree, where
Sweet Lily Toad had been resting.

I bear witness to the fact that
Sinister Toad was up to no good.
I caught him bugging my red bell peppers
and pestering the cat, as he strutted around
as though he needed
to make a good impression.

I was willing to let him cohabitate
generous soul that I am
but he used his narrow lil snout as a weapon
when all I did was warn him

This is not Big Frog City,
yes, that’s been established
but you can’t just come in here
take over the pond with its bountiful bugs,
or pee on my flowers, or give Nicholas a nudge
and have you forgotten Sweet Lily Toad?

Forced her from her hole, she’s homeless
an orphan toad with nowhere to go
and I thought I saw her leaving
with a little red bandana
tied to the end of a toothpick pole

Sinister Toad, the verdict is in
and it has been decided-
You simply, have to go

 

[normal jean]

Frog King as Observor

Frog King (as observer)

Frog King as observer of his realm
an imposing grand arena
of sixty cubic feet not counting
combined surface area
of fuchsia flowering lily pads

Imposing as he squats, intense
as any frog could be
swollen with thought upon his concrete hill

he gets the big meat

Frog King, His Majesty
~Imminent Culler of Protein~
sticky tongue zapping juicy bumbles
smearing flecks of pollen thick
across his smirking Frog King lips

Late day sun, peeking through
warms old Frog King’s glistening back
this is why he is called King
~he has claimed the high ground~

Abundant peasant frogs abound
in jet black water lonesomeness
~this is not Big Frog City~
merely an abutment, an annex
a cement pond an afterthought

~a freckle on Miss Luna's cheek~

This un-abandoned trench complete
with ribbit ribbit hiccup rhythm
and with a mighty moonlit gulp
Frog King in mid-croak
is swallowed deep
into his realm and into the night

 

[normal jean]

Bad Day at Skeeter Pond

It was a steamy day . A sticky humid,
sweaty dog with itchy balls, type of day.
Just damn aggravating. An ominous veil
of mosquitoes blackened the sky and hummed
to life, the sky barely visible above the pond.
Something had to be done and done quick.

Perhaps Frog King sent word by messenger frog,
I do not know, but late that afternoon,
Hammer Frog showed up. He was packing a tongue
that could pull a cliff diver off balance. He could hide
from his prey till it was too late. He was a mercenary.
He was an intimidating frog and he knew it.

Hammer Frog had arrived with a flourish,
an entourage, and a bad attitude. As everyone
in the frog world knows, a mercenary frog
with thick skin is a thing to be avoided. Frog King
had buckled to pressure from the ladies. They ached
for the sweetness of bumble bee, but mosquitoes

Had taken over the place, and as almost everyone
in the frog world knows, mosquitoes are never
as tasty as bees. It was then I saw Frog King
hiding, or perhaps concocting a strategy,
to rid the pond of potential rival, the exterminator,
and oh how the ladies loved old Hammer Frog.

And Frog King knew it!

Quizzical expression, he stared straight ahead
gazing at a pink cherry tree. I saw him blink,
again, and again, and I saw him swallow,
again and again. This process continued
until darkness came, and Frog King had swelled
far beyond normal size. I feared for his life.

His situation might have been amusing, if he hadn’t
looked ill in his eyes. His frog-lids were drooping,
lips slightly parted, a nauseated croak escaped from his lips,
and then he fell backward into the pond. There was a plop,
it almost echoed. Ricochet from cement wall, from
the monkey grass to the water hose, and back.


I sprang from my swing and leapt into the pond,
grabbing him with my hands. He was bloated and bulging,
his frog chest was heaving and jiggled as I held him.
Gently I placed him onto the grass, placing a finger
just so, then I pressed. One upward motion and Frog King
expelled the offending mosquitoes, then I expelled my lunch.

I didn’t say a word and he wiggled his way away from me
and dove back into the pond. Hammer Frog was content
to finish the job, within a few days he moved on.
Now the ladies have the bumble bees, I still haven’t seen
Frog King, but I have a good feeling that he wouldn’t mind
it Hammer showed up next year, about this time.

 

[normal jean]

Ballad of Frog Royale

this was written for a thread Liar started way back when...
~~~~

The Ballad of Frog Royale

( this should be read/sung/hummed
to the tune of the Daring Young Man on the Flying Trapeze)


He could sail through the air, on the wisp of a breeze,
the daring young frog from the coast of Belize.

He was part of a troupe, yet was one of a kind,
he could waltz on a bud since he learned how to climb.

But as he performed for a queen and her niece,
he was swallowed alive then expelled in a sneeze.

Though the day has long past he remembers it well,
how he came close to death by one hapless inhale.

It seems ripe papaya was part of the cause,
then a lamp in the parlor attracted some moths.

And when he attempted to bypass the flutter,
he misjudged the distance, and landed in butter.

And meanwhile the queen and her parlor of guests,
demanded refreshments, a simple request.

With no way of knowing, they buttered their scones,
while poor circus frog was as slippery as stone,

And when he emerged, left the queen all aghast,
her ladies in waiting withheld frightened gasps,

The queen then emitted the shrillest of screams,
went into a seizure and started to sneeze.

She struggled for air, frog was caught in the mess,
but managed to land on the queen’s new silk dress.

She bent over it seemed, to take a big breath,
but when she inhaled, frog was sucked off her breast.

She gagged as she swallowed, frog stuck in her throat,
the way that she bleated as poor froggie croaked,

The hysterical sight so delighted the queen,
now her Majesty’s party was the place to be,


The queen was amused but her guests wouldn’t leave,
until a repeat of the disaster-ous scene,

Now young Circus Frog has a troupe of his own,
they’re dancing their jigs at the foot of her throne.

 

[normal jean]

Goodbye, Sticky Frog

~~~
Goodbye, Sticky Frog

Sticky frog hung on for at least three miles
if I had only known, if I had only seen
his lime green leopard spot moist frog body
attempting to cling, perhaps I could have saved him.

It is just a hunch, nothing more
but it had rained heavily an hour before
and it is possible that he became displaced
during that ferocious storm.

Perhaps he was wedged beneath
a windshield wiper’s arm, or frightened
and hiding inside a wheel, but whatever
transpired, his sticky frog fate was sealed,

And when I raised the window, I saw him
frantically hugging, his sticky frog eyes were bugging
and his legs stretched out, and face contorted
by force of a thirty mile per hour wind.

I slowed down, hoping to stave his departure,
and what I thought would be a certain death
without an ounce of sticky frog dignity.

The last sight I saw of sticky frog, he was airborne
on Platt Springs Road. I like to think he landed
in a tree, it’s possible as almost everyone in
the frog world knows- to a sticky frog,
airborne or not, any tree can make a good home

 

[normal jean]

I am the Cricket

for Eve, since she was tired of frog poems

Was it you, Oh Wicked One
stomping across the kitchen floor
as I chirped my midnight anthem?

You have made the claim that I,
the Cricket, a meek and cheerful soul
has harpooned your evening silence
with ricochet chirp and saw
as you put it-
a rickety, crickety serenade
bouncing off the walls

Allow my voice, are you not a poet?

I am only guilty of invading closets
no match for daylight creatures, no choice
but to sing when biology will allow.

And should you sweep my body
to the darkest corner of the house,
I'll keep singing anyway,

No need for reminder of gray wolf spider
eight legs curled, she is a withered
and frizzy memorial of yesterday's invasion.

I insist that you crush my fragile body!

I am merely a cricket, it matters not
that I break the depth of night
with what you feel is wrong
you have the right, Oh Wicked One
to expel my life of song

Into a chunky spot of clouded green
a martyr, on your kitchen floor.

 

[normal jean]

ode to a squirrel's passing

The eight year old doctor
who lives next door, regrets
to inform me that the mother
of the five baby squirrels
who nest in the oak tree
has met an untimely demise.

She carefully checked for a pulse-
her tiny fingers wedged beneath
the mess of bloodied fur.
The squirrel's tiny teats, engorged,
seemed to affect me more than
her actual death or her resting place
amongst fast-food litter and the dampness
of the dewy morning grass.

Road kill, The girl stated.

"Cars should be illegal," she whispers
as if the squirrel would somehow
be disturbed. "Maybe someday
they will be," I whispered back,
the astronomical price of gas
somehow outweighing the death
of that innocent but aggravating
bulb-thieving pest.

 

[normal jean]

twilight silences most things
amplifies others
but enables me
to discern the difference

 

[UnderYourSpell]

Spurning him a lazy bug
just for him a ladybug
and a nibblin' of them toadstools
he's a psychedelic frog,
man.
Hopping to a lily pad
makes them waters
skip and swirl
he's been taking of them toodstools
and he's a psychedelic frog

 

[normal jean]

Spurning him a lazy bug
just for him a ladybug
and a nibblin' of them toadstools
he's a psychedelic frog,
man.
Hopping to a lily pad
makes them waters
skip and swirl
he's been taking of them toodstools
and he's a psychedelic frog

girl, I would lick a toad for you...a psychedelic one, of course, but just for you

 

[UnderYourSpell]

was going to put something about toad's tools but decided not lol

 

[Anschul]

Hummingbirds

Two inches flitting by, a needle beak
Plunges into scarlet petals, thirsty
From a thousand-mile journey. Mustn't speak
Too loud now, been waiting since last Thursday,
When first I heard the hummingbirds were back.
The skittish little ruby-throats appear
When winter's chill gives way. We leave a sack
Of dryer lint for their nests. They wear
What's left of winter plumage 'till the sun
Beats warm on the flowers that my garden
Gives up to them. They drink and then they run,
Fickle, to some other chintzy bargain
Feeder in a neighbor's yard. But each year
They come back to us, knowing food is here.

 

[normal jean]

Sahara, the sensient frog

someone somewhere did not appreciate *Sahara* as a frog, and I didn't ask her first, so it has been deleted. I will ask the prospective "froggie" ahead of time, next time I feel so inspired.

But anon, I do take pleasure in the fact that you recognized who she was... other than that, you can bite me, hard.

 

[normal jean]

Hummingbirds

Two inches flitting by, a needle beak
Plunges into scarlet petals, thirsty
From a thousand-mile journey. Mustn't speak
Too loud now, been waiting since last Thursday,
When first I heard the hummingbirds were back.
The skittish little ruby-throats appear
When winter's chill gives way. We leave a sack
Of dryer lint for their nests. They wear
What's left of winter plumage 'till the sun
Beats warm on the flowers that my garden
Gives up to them. They drink and then they run,
Fickle, to some other chintzy bargain
Feeder in a neighbor's yard. But each year
They come back to us, knowing food is here.

Anschul, this is gorgeous, sorry I didn't see it sooner. I absolutely love hummers. Years ago, when hubby began working out of town, he brought it upon himself to begin a collection for me, so when he returned from his jobs, he would always bring me a hummingbird. I have several dozen, so many,l i had to tell him to stop as it was becoming silly, almost, to the point of clutter.

The coolest experience I ever had with them, I was hanging a feeder on my front porch, standing on a chair, as I reached out to place it on the hook, a tiny female came and fed as I held the feeder in my hand, she didnt even wait for me to move! That is the closest I have ever been to one, but they behave as if they might become tame after a while.

Thank you for your beautiful contribution to my froggy little thread.

 

[normal jean]

A warning to the poets here, who read these froggy poems. If you aren't really, really careful, I will turn you all into froggys!! muawahaha

umm, but that goes only for the ones that I love.

 

[champagne1982]

I see your latest froggy as the beginning of a new series. Kind of like The Pond Keeper's List of Persnickety Frogs... I love Eliot's Cats as you can tell. So, along the lines of Cats and The Mutt's Denizens, there's a world of topics for your poetry, right there in Sahara's koi pond.

 

[normal jean]

I see your latest froggy as the beginning of a new series. Kind of like The Pond Keeper's List of Persnickety Frogs... I love Eliot's Cats as you can tell. So, along the lines of Cats and The Mutt's Denizens, there's a world of topics for your poetry, right there in Sahara's koi pond.

Champ!!! welcome, I have been thinking about you. There is, after all, winter at the pond, and the way it is designed, would make a lovely place to ski, or at least, slide down into the frigid water when the stone slope ices up

I have had an awful time lately, trying to sleep and woke this morning after only 2 hours, had a little bug nibbling at my ear, whispering, sahara, sahara....I tried to ignore it, but couldnt...it is nowhere close to being "done" but was just sort of scribbled in cyber space till I can make her shine.

Thank you for popping in, this is where I feel most comfortable, as you knoe me, I dont drink that much and make for mostly lousy company. But, sigh, at the pond, my world is eternal and oh, so grand.

hugs to you sweet Lady

 

[UnderYourSpell]

He's a puffin' and a suckin'
his legs they are a jiggin'
to that crazy hippy beat.
Dig it.
Water lily flower power
peace 'n' love man
Psychedelic frog's on the pond weed
mind expannnnnnnnnsion!!

 

[normal jean]

He's a puffin' and a suckin'
his legs they are a jiggin'
to that crazy hippy beat.
Dig it.
Water lily flower power
peace 'n' love man
Psychedelic frog's on the pond weed
mind expannnnnnnnnsion!!

well, Annie!

Thank you for adding such an interesting character to the pond. I can see him now, in his little hideaway, I would imagine, he has a spot near the azaleas that have taken over, and invites his buddies for a toke, or two.

Funny thing, I see him with a hookah, like the characters in Alice in Wonderland.

If he has any friends, you want to invite, feel free! Always room at the pond.