Satire

The Naked Mole Rat and the Penguin

~ Iyan Igma

Once, there lived a penguin, and she madly fell in love with a naked mole rat that fell in love with her. The penguin came to live with the naked mole rat in his burrow. But, alas, she couldn’t take the heat.

“Honey,” the penguin said, “I’ve got to get out of the kitchen.”

“Well, come on inside the living room burrow and lay down in the cool. I’ll finish supper,” the loving naked mole rat said.

“No, honey, I’ve got to go back to where I came from. I want to stay here, I honestly do, but I can’t.”

“If you cannot live here with me, then I’ll go to Antarctica with you. I cannot live without you.”

They packed up their love and left the homely burrow to live in cold and windy lands. But, just as the penguin could not take the heat, the naked mole rat was unable to cope with the bitter freezing cold. He died. In the snow.

Moral:
There are some things love can’t conquer.

The Zenith of Oblivion

~ Iyan Igma

The success of my oblivion
I shall never surpass,
Should I scribe an epic
For each lad and lass.

Oblivion is my acme,
Zenith, and bounteous yield.
In it the greatness of my
Characters was developed and revealed.
Compared to it all else
Lies as a barrenly fallow field.

Nothing else could achieve
Oblivion’s universality;
Everyone can attribute
It to me.
Should even a few recognize
Other works my pen doth decree,
Oblivion’s numbers grow daily
As the flora in the lee.

Cereal

~ Iyan Igma

“Chewy,” thinks me, fork in hand,
Commenting on her taste.
Throughout pubescence had I been
Taught etiquette and not to waste.

She tasted not like chicken but
Of sumptuous carnal pleasure.
Sat I picking at fickle fillet;
I had deboned her at leisure.

All of the girls who’ve died for me
Have touched me in endless ways.
In love, I trust all’ve had the misfortune,
I know of one crime that deliciously pays.

Disdain from Wittenburg Castle

~ Iyan Igma

“It is easy to disdain from a sheltered place,
But harder to shelter the place of your disdain.”

I can attack your inherent flaws
Because I am protected.
With luck, you will change,
As I have not projected.

And from a secure place in my soul,
A speck tedious to locate,
I sit ‘neath a willow tree.
I weep for you and agitate.

I would shelter you from
This if I only could
Disguise the barbs
As satirists would.

But then this assault would
Have no satisfaction
By achieving an indignant
Or hostile reaction.

Sin Colored Glasses

~ Iyan Igma

You’re looking at my world
In shock and in pain;
Everything I do
Seems quite insane.

But I see things
In a much different light,
Your strict and dull ways
Are such a bland sight.

To see as I see
Requires not classes,
For my education comes
With sin colored glasses.

Shade your eyes
From what’s right
And let avarice be
Thy guide through the night.

I’m looking at the world
In a sin-colored way,
But everything seems
As clear as the day.

Supernova

~ Iyan Igma

His love was a comet’s song;
Beautiful, lovely, disastrously gone.
Bleeding tears of milky despair,
With the cosmos his pain to share.
He was taken with a-flaring anger and fearful ague,
And here is where it all grows vague,
For which of you mayst nobly say
Aught of the demented mood on that day
When the swollen red giant burst?
In anguished, doubting confusion, and what’s worst
Of all these passions, a self-hating shriek
Urging self-slaughter in no way meek.
This once dazzling and coyish entity
Set fright in all who did see
His plasma smear the firmament,
And to his fickle love was sent
Word of his turbulent demise.
On occasion she thinks and cries,
Her cold tears streaking watching skies.
But she has no forgiveness in their eyes,
And from where he once lay she’s often fled
Like cosmic winds to another’s bed;
And with thoughts as empty as his love,
We now wonder if there’s life above.

Deflowering Fields

~ Iyan Igma

As if in a dream
I run deflowering fields
Of the spring’s newborn
Bounteously petaled yields.

It’s rare one sees blue
In nature; the oceans are green.
Yet, childishly, the sky adorns
My fingers and in between.

From peedabeds and aphids
I’ve fashioned a toga.
In this black-eyed Susie
Hut I meditate in yoga.

With a honey-suckled daisy diadem,
I naturally rule in thought.
My embellished ways have more flowers
Than any florist has bought.

Excessively I’ve strewn petals
Where their transpiration splatters
To find out if she loves me
Or not and other such matters.

Fief

~ Iyan Igma

‘She’s such a lovely pretty girl,’
Longingly thought the lonely earl,
And in a conscious state that was alternate
Lived in a dream he could not forget.

Waltzing in mist under moonlight,
She made for a delectable sight.
She hastily turned and laughed, as if whisked away,
And twirled and dipped, as if on her knees to pray.

She forgave him of his splendour and conceit,
Called him the most common man she did ever meet,
And, as she majestically twirled around,
He forgot about her queen’s crown.

Then, they ran off to simply live and elope
Beyond the range of the king’s power’s scope.
He’d given up his title and feudal vow,
The king might surely be angry now.

My White Love

~ Iyan Igma

My white love went riding
On a horse that bore her away,
But I still remember her parting words,
“I’ll be back for you someday.”

And in my dreams I wonder
Whither she might be?
I picture her gliding by,
Hair waving windily.

Upon streets of turquoise,
The clip-clop hooves have tread,
Pausing only once here and there
For migrating soda bread.

Behind her a glimmering moon
Spews butterflies into the air,
And all of them weep to praise
My mistress that graced them there.

And in my dreams I know
She loves me with all her mind,
For when she but utters my name
A smile’s all my mind’s eye can find.

Across the sparkling waves she flies
To drink at rowdy sand bars;
And when she inebriatedly brawls, she
Proves to my leaping heart women are from Mars.

Amid the clouds of snow banks
She dusts off her reining hands.
She’s coming back to me
From beyond those dull foreign strands.

And from my dreams I wake up
To a bitter reality;
I like my dreams much better,
For there she returned and kissed me.

“Haiku’s for No One”

~ Iyan Igma

“Haiku’s for No One”
Haiku’s for no one,
For my perfect lovely girl
Who was never named.

“Sweetness”
Her voice is as sweet
As the words it ne’er will speak.
My muted beauty.

“Silk”
Shaggy spider web silk
Sandy blonde at roots
Strawberry at the tips

“Conditioner”
Fondles her mid-back
Finger stroking windily
Coiled for emphasis

“A Green Ground”
Yellow rivulets
Of limestone green, purple pores
Specked with birthstone blue.

“Pools”
All expression and
Communication should swim
In these profound thoughts.

“Lips”
Flesh-bills as soft as music
Full as gibbous moon
Pale as unspoke thought

“A Taste”
Receptive moist skin
Eden tastes as orange sherbert
E’er pleasing and chilled

“Tegument”
Marred with complexion
As soft as her gentle heart
Freckled where I kiss

“Thermal Need”
Meager covering
To touch ever chilled as ice
Requiring my warmth

“Llama”
Name as rolling and
Long as the Georgia Piedmont
Or family feud

“Camel”
A boyscout snake, this
Label ties up tongue and
Constricts capacity

“Indecencies”
With froggy toes webbed
Her feet will be as flippers;
I hate being pinched.

“Necking”
A polished tower
Hair’s curled from the left, behind,
Over to bosom

“Objectivity”
Proportional to all
Things to her figure
Be it petite or plump.

“Thailand”
Surface tension smooth
As stretchéd and long as my love
For her will last.

“A Doll”
Height is important.
She must be life-sized enough
To be seen by all.

“A Right to Bear”
These cannot be
Underestimated she does
Need them to grasp me.

“Obelisks”
Delicate power
Shafts strong enough to support
The weight of my head

“Washington”
The roll is calléd
Their number is thirty-two
In their gum wrapper

“Semi-Very Precious”
Pearly off-white stones must be
Long enough for her
To lovingly nip

“Singing How She Does”
The deformation
Isn’t length or shape
But it’s desire to nuzzle

“Licking? Good”
To hold like a dream
Long as needs be with the nails
Gilded like stained glass

“Placement”
Like dwarves in caverns
Fitting comfortably in
The vastness of mine.

“Jojo”
Stately as naught else,
Fleshed out to prevent ennuí,
Unslumpéd grandeur

“Maybe”
When I see my love
Outside of dream, then I’d say
Earthy love exists.