Short Whelk Poems

Ancient beyond knowing,
spirals of information
float in on a frothy tide.

With shades of the rainbow
the whelk shell preens
enclosing its gastropod guest.

Where did they meet
to become this symbiotic star
of eons before mind?...

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Might in want shall 
her gentlemen speak
to have his trusted 
woman take his
 hand.
She gives as much as
she takes
he looks to mornings
to smile
might she kiss him to
began the day


What ways are we different
to the sameness of
our desires
that we meet in ned to
want no more
and will be satisfied and
pleased
From Whelk Cookery...

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under a delightful moon
      air silvermist due to drizzling rain
  a pale patina rode wavetops
              of the mystic sea

creamy waters washed across my feet
depositing opaline conchs, whelk egg cases
    and bits of purple fan coral
  oceanic generosity
          fueled my thankfulness
      as the horizon's apricot blush
                  announced sunrise...

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Daddy didn't seem to be playing with a full deck
                      He whaled the tar out of Rosalind's Florida whelk
                                      This whelk was a snoop
                                      Sneaked in daddy's soup
                     And found his peer group with no disability check 







       DADDY'S SOUP/Limerick Copyright© Rajat Kanti Chakrabarty 11/26/2014...

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I remember the day I ate a whelk,
A day I'll not forget.
Like chewing on a leather belt,
I broke into a sweat.

Sticky bits and slimy stuff
Were clinging to my teeth.
Nearby was an empty sink,
Much to my relief.

Over I went, spat it out 
And could scarce believe my eyes,
That gelatinous mess made me puke,
It's whelks that I despise.





Entry for My Blue Cheese is contest
Sponsored By Kevin Shaw
6/1/18. Placed 3rd....

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Listen to poem:

What do you think?
Nothing.  Again, nothing.
I am as colorless as clear water,
as reflective as a mirror, as empty
as a room everyone just left.
What do you feel?
Nothing.  Once more, nothing.
I am as passive as a stone,
as fluid as a stream,
as shallow as a saucer...
Why do you lie? I do not lie --
you see my exposed shell,
the walls inside which I have 
become dessicated, shrunken,
hard, withdrawn -- a dried out oyster, 
a clam, a snail -- a distracting 
polished whelk....

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