Ode to the Devoured

It seems your fate to be devoured;
First by teeth whose marks remain
Like runic scratches left to impart
The memory of when you were slain.

Then you nourish the ground from which
Grows the grass and green your children eat,
Flourishing ever healthier with your sacrifice
For you were more than simple meat.

Later come waves whose licks digest the scraps
And bleach the memories from your surface
Leaving naught but a husk of your being
To be found and inspire these verses.

One must wonder what might have been
Had you remained everything
In your own little world
Instead of becoming nothing
In the grandest scheme,
But now you’re my belonging
And are free to be all that I dream.


My Friend Stan

Poem for one of my university assignments, inspired in part by my partner’s art. Check out Messy Miscreation Artwork .

I have a friend,
I call him Stan.
He’s a cool little fellow,
But not quite a man.
You see, this old buddy,
He sits on my shoulders
His legs ‘round my body
And he’s with me all of the time.

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