A dark necklace…
Telling Toads, 2:
poems and stories for the Year of the Toad
The poems are still slipping in. Slowly, carefully,
toad-hopping rather than frog-leaping, possibly even salamander-crawling, but I
am hoping to share a new set of words every month and here are the offerings
from July
A Haiku special is brewing and a set of photos to give you
something to think about is coming in the next few days
I put out a request on facebook for some extra photos to accompany
poems and stories and am now wading through an amphibian tidal wave of images. It
does, however, give me some rich images to choose from…
If you'd like to find out more about this project, visit the blog post here: Telling Toads
Thanks you, Jane Millum |
1. Friend Frog
Tessa Strickland
Friend Frog, your eyes are water jewels.
Looking at you, I
see orbs
of liquid mineral looking back.
You are as inscrutable as a Buddha,
and I wonder, what
is it that you see
gazing out of your frog world
at this bulky, shadowed being-thing
which has arms and
legs, like you,
a heart, like you, but a breathing apparatus
that can no longer live amphibiously,
a body that can no
longer leap
between river and hill.
Friend Frog, you who can
hear the earth
talk, who can sense
the shifting tremors of the underworld
with your small, exquisite body,
you who can see
and hear and interpret
the elements in ways that are lost to me,
Forgive me, Friend Frog,
for the way I
trample through your domain
in heavy boots.
one of Rob's Axolotls |
2. Axolotl
Rob Bounds
In the 1980’s I had one of these amphibians – one of a number of
waifs and strays pets adopted alongside gerbils, hamsters and an ill-tempered
rabbit. Said creature came into my
possession after its previous owner thought it would make an interesting
additional to his fish tank, resulting in his aquarium ending up goldfishless!
30 or so years later I now have another one of these fascinating
“walking fish” – alongside a collection of other waif and stray pets…..
When people see this Mexican marvel they frequently say….
“What is
that…?”
Some say he’s ugly, some say he is cute.
With his feathery gills he looks like a newt.
He’s not a frog and he’s not a toad,
you won’t see him in a pond or crossing the road.
He’s incredibly rare and can’t be found in the wild.
He never grows up – he’s a perpetual child.
He’s the Water Dog god the Aztecs called Xolotl
Meet my amphibian friend the Axolotl.
3. Haikode to the beginnings of Toad
By WeeVee left as a comment on an earlier post
Elegant toadspawn
Festooned from weed like bunting
Aristocrat toads
Frogs lay globulous
Blobs discombobulous
Toads think 'how common'
Elegant toadspawn
Festooned from weed like bunting
Aristocrat toads
Frogs lay globulous
Blobs discombobulous
Toads think 'how common'
3 Pond thoughts
Gordon MacLellan
Some experiments here with a fib
poem (follows a Fibonacci sequence in its lines) and two cinquains (a set
sequence of syllables). I then got caught in a personal discussion about whether
"wriggling" is two syllables or three
1.
One
Cell
Divides
And again,
And tadpoles squirming
Into a wriggling explosion
Fill a pond with life and hope and dreams of transformation.
2.
Toadspawn,
A string of pearls,
Dark necklace for green weeds,
A gift of wriggling cheerfulness,
With hops.
3.
Scrawny
Legs on a lump
Of knobbled mud, turning slow,
Blinking golden eyes, gulps a fly,
And stops.
What's going on? background to this project: Telling Toads
First poems and pictures are publsihed here: The First Elegant Hops
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