Tag: poem

Poetry

Arlo, the Cat.

The Royal Octopus

Arlo the cat, with his misshapen head,
One wonky eye, like the moon overhead.
Yet oh, how he’d strut with his tail held so high,
A marvel to all, and the joy of my eye.

His fur was a patchwork, his whiskers askew,
But something about him was noble and true.
In every soft stumble, in every low purr,
Beat a heart full of kindness that nothing could blur.

They whispered he’s strange, a little bit odd,
But Arlo brought laughter, a gift from the gods.
From Insta to Facebook, from mountain to shore,
He gathered up hearts, and then gathered more.

For what is a flaw in a world that is vast,
When the love that he gave was a love built to last.
In every embrace, in each gentle paw,
Arlo taught us, that love defeats all.

A hero to many, though quirky in form,
With spirit unbroken and heart ever warm.
The world knew his soul, not the shape of his face—
For in every heart, Arlo had found his place.

©️ 2024

Poetry

Arachne’s Thread

The Royal Octopus

With nimble hands, I wove my art,
A tapestry spun from the depths of heart.
Each thread a story, each stitch a song,
In mortal skill, where none belong.

The loom was mine, my gift, my pride,
In every pattern, the world complied.
Yet gods, they watch with a jealous eye,
To see a mortal touch the sky.

Athena came with wrathful glare,
A challenge born of pride’s despair.
She wove the heavens, grand and wide,
But still, my threads refused to hide.

In every weave, I dared to show
The truth the gods had feared to know:
Their faults, their folly, clothed in grace,
A mirror held to power’s face.

For this, my gift was torn away,
No human hands allowed to stay.
A twisted form, a cursed fate,
To spin in darkness, bound by hate.

Yet in my web, the threads remain,
A testament to mortal pain.
I weave the truth the gods can’t see—
That even cursed, I still am free.

2024 ©️

Poetry

Look at me..

The Royal Octopus

In shadows deep where whispers crawl,
I stand, a queen beneath them all.
My hair, once silk, now writhes with spite,
A crown of serpents, born of night.

Look at me—if you dare,
Feel the weight of my endless stare.
In my gaze, your heart will freeze,
Stone-bound, trapped in silent pleas.

I once had beauty, grace, and charm,
But the gods cursed me with blighted harm.
Now, men fall with just a glance,
Petrified in a deadly dance.

Look at me—if you’re bold,
I’ll steal your breath, I’ll turn you cold.
What you fear is what I’ve become,
A bitter song that’s left unsung.

But see beyond this cursed face,
A broken soul in a cruel embrace.
I did not choose this endless fight,
A monster made from another’s spite.

Look at me—and you might see
Not a beast, but tragedy.
In the cracks of stone, a heart still beats,
In the silence, a cry repeats:

Look at me..

2024 ⓒ