Poem: Octopus Fantasy

OCTOPUS FANTASY

By Karen Ashley Greenstone

Octopus sits on a deep ocean rock,

Awake, alert, watching.

Eyes scan back and forth under the sea,

Silent, waiting, searching.

Fish swims sleepily into view,

Unaware, unprepared, unsuspecting.

Octopus sees, octopus hums,

Assured, intent, attracting.

Fish swims closer and closer yet,

Charmed, lulled, dreaming.

Tentacles stretch through the watery depths,

Circling, pulling, trapping.

Black mouth opens and descends,

Engulfing, consuming, swallowing.

Octopus sits again on his rock,

Still, content, digesting.

Poem: Maria Maria Sangria

MARIA MARIA SANGRIA

By Karen Ashley Greenstone

Maria Maria Sangria,
dancing through life
in a grass skirt
under an elegant hat
crowned with ganja.

Maria Maria Sangria,
Lover of Jamaica, drums, and purple.

Maria Maria Sangria,
Moon Beam and Sun Splash,
Pagan Saint and Wise Fool,
Merry Mermaid and High Priestess,
Virgin of fierce sexual appetite.

Maria Maria Sangria,
Creator of high magic,
turning dreams into reality,
her heart into a home,
and strangers into friends.

Maria Maria Sangria,
unboxed and untamed,
Well of boundless energy and Source of courage.

Maria Maria Sangria,
the Center of the circle,
the Star of her life,
the Life of her party,
a constant Surprise.

Maria Maria Sangria,
beloved Sister,
cherished Friend.

Poem: Fever Dreams

I wrote the poem below while thinking of the odd but enjoyable dreams I've had when I've gone to bed slightly feverish from too long in the sun.

FEVER DREAMS

By Karen Ashley Greenstone

When my temperature is one hundred and three,

These are some things I like to see.

Sometimes I like to hallucinate

Of mice who mate,

Or snakes who skate,

Or a hippo with a curly pate

Who ambles along at a clumsy gait

To the watering hole where she likes to wait.

And then at times I like to dream

Of live ice cream,

Or a dancing scream,

Or a traveling team

Of mad moonbeams

That fill the heavens with crazy gleams

Till all the planets start to steam.

At other times my thoughts will turn

To the arctic worm

Who has to squirm

Through tons and tons of snow packed firm,

Or even to the tropical germ

Who aims to infect the epiderm

Of the mighty majestic pachyderm.

And finally my mind will swirl.

Then acrobats whirl

With lips that curl

And hands that hurl

Pink flying squirrels

At tap-dancing girls

Who are all named Merl.

These thoughts all pounce

As my fever mounts

Until I have reams

Of fever dreams

And hallucinations

To stun the nations.