Poetry Wednesday: Ode to the Cephalopod Mollusc Contest!

Octopus DiveTell me, O Octopus, I begs
Is those things arms, or is they legs?
I marvel at thee, Octopus;
If I were thou, I’d call me Us.

—Ogden Nash

You know there’s an unfortunate lack of poems about a certain subject when I’m forced to resort to Odgen Nash, who was a clever, playful, and undeniably talented man whose utter disregard for meter drives me batguano insane.*

We shall not speak of how quick that trip must be for a woman who spent the better part of two hours searching for octopus poetry.

Instead, we shall agree that it’s clearly time for another Try It Yourself Poetry Contest!

The rules, as usual, are simple:  Write me an octopus poem. 

Don’t care what kind, dore care what quality—but there should be at least four lines.  And if your references go beyond nudge, nudge, wink wink, e-mail it to me, please.**

There will also be double points awarded for rhyming one of the Latin classifications and for using one or more particular biological quirks of a specific cephalopod mollusc (make sure I know which one, please).Glass Octopus

Vitreledonella
Is such a funny fella
He plays at being naive and prim
But everyone can see right through him . . .

Ahem. 

OctomugIf you accept this challenge and post the poem or a link to your own place in the comments—or e-mail them to me —your name will be entered into the Pink Cowgirl Hat of Win for a chance to own the regular-sized Cafepress mug of your choice,*** which doesn’t have to feature an octopus—but c’mon, how cool would that be?

This one is gonna be quick:  contest starts now and ends midnight (CST) on Thursday

Winner will be selected and announced on Friday.

Tell your friends!^

_________________________________

*Not that I don’t appreciate a few of his poems, or at least what he was saying in them, but those are a rare exception—this is one of ’em.

**Kev, you’re still on limerick suspension.  I’m not joking.  And any graphic references to hentai will be passed on to your mother.

***Or an online gift card, if you prefer not to supply your postal address or CafePress won’t ship to your country, though so far, so good.

^If you’re related to me by blood or marriage, you aren’t eligible for this contest, sorry—but if you enter, at least I’ll know what to get you for your birthday.

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17 thoughts on “Poetry Wednesday: Ode to the Cephalopod Mollusc Contest!

  1. Oh, Octopus!
    You slippery, mysterious thing
    I’ve seen you many times
    tucked into the dark corner of The Museum
    You were always my favorite
    but shhhh…
    don’t tell the whale.

  2. Fine. I wasn’t going to do it, but I reached procrastination o’clock. This is an ode to your Faux Calamari:

    I once had a dog who ate spaghetti raw,
    never once did she get it stuck in her craw.
    She would have liked it better
    in a hot-dog sweater
    snatched from the plate of your mother in law.

  3. I am an octopus
    I am a weirdo
    I am a weirdo
    I’m an octopus
    I’m an octopus
    la la la la la
    hum hum hum hum hum
    I have eight arms
    Star Wars
    I like watching Star Wars
    Number one.

    -M (4-years old)

  4. Octopuses are scary
    They like to eat berries
    and one of their names is Merry
    Poppins.

    They are mean to me
    They don’t like me
    They are awesome
    doody doody doo la la
    I’m awesome
    Goo goo gaga.

    -J (7-years old)

  5. Ode to Ursula

    Did you ever stop to think
    That I had an extra heart
    The singing drove me mad
    I never got to start

    The red-haired brat
    Caused such a stink
    Ignored her Dad
    I should have inked.

    -Me

  6. OK. I am shamed into entering another one of your poetry contests. (Not really. The octopus is my all-time-favorite invertebrate.) So here goes!

    My octopod
    Is rather odd
    but he’s a little sweetie

    When I am bugged
    And need a hug
    He uses all eight feet-y

  7. This is a great poem, Mike! Unfortunately, you missed the deadline . . .

    But you won last time anyway, I think—right? That was back when I was still calling you Steve. Ah, memories . . .

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