
Ah, to be a cicada
and discard what I’d once been-
dispersing in the wind.
Particles of me,
so tiny,
no one would see.
I’d scatter in the breeze.
In your hair,
I’d settle there.
Sink into your pores.
Unmask secrets of yours.
On the roof of your mouth,
I’d hang about.
So, every time you sung,
I’d tumble to your tongue.
We’d sing as one.

Truly a fascinating poem, and so ingenious how you transposed yourself as a cicada and spread yourself into his skin, to evolve as a loving, final tongue twister… wow I think I got it right….
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Haha! Your comments are always surprising and never fail to make me chuckle. Cicadas also sing in their own way, so that’s where the guy’s tongue comes into play. I do love a good tongue twister, though! Thank you, mate. xo
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I agree wholeheartedly with Ivors. (Though “wholeheartedly” seems like a word you might turn into something macabre) 🙂
Dear Rose–this was brilliant. It made me laugh, too.
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Ivor is very perceptive. Lol! Ah, you know me too well, Merril 😀 Thank you very much, and I do like to hear your lovely laughter echoing through my macabre mind. 😉 xx
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🙂
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When I saw Fly’s video yesterday, I couldn’t stop thinking about what it would be like to be that cicada but with the cognitive function of a human, knowing that you were leaving behind a shell of your former self and becoming something new and strong. Your poem is a beautiful and playful interpretation. I really admire the way your personality comes through in your writing and your art, which is lovely and memorable here as always.
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Oh, my dear Oggy — what would I do without your thoughtful comments? I do believe you’d make a stunning cicada… I’d hate for you to become completely different from the Oglach we’ve all grown to love, but I certainly always wish you strength and good health. ❤ Thanks for your sweet words, Oglacada 😀 😀
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Oh, I LOVE this!! I love cicadas, too. Just lovely.
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I love them, too! Thanks for listening to the cicada sing, Angela. 🎶💓
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Intriguing poem…the lines that jump out at me: S”ink into your pores. / Unmask secrets of yours.” – – that our secrets flow through us, are literally part of our body, but of course, becoming metaphor, the layers it creates for the other lines.
And is it just me or does that little critter’s face look like a small piranha’s?
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Such eloquence! Lol. A piranha, huh? Well, I do want to devour your delicious words. 😁 A million thanks for taking the time to share your lovely comments.
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As the ice cream drips down,on a hot summers day,the boy remembers why he asked if he could have….his mother says yes,as the ice cream numbs his lips,the cool sensation is a welcome
As the summers noon day sun heats,while the boy licks as much as of the ice cream as he can
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Let me be your ice cream
in the flavor of summer.
Taste the sun on my skin
as I melt and shudder.
Hear the distant jingle
of the ice cream truck.
The music makes me tingle
as we drip and —-
Damn! I’ve run out of rhymes. 🍦😜
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As we dip and run through the stream
Happiness is you and a the noon day sun
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Ahhh, you are s’wonderful! Thanks darling. 💝
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Summer bows to autumn.
As leaves drift and twirl.
I fall for your words.
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Lovely and so clever
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One has to be on their toes to keep up with you, my clever Knight. You always brim with infinite posts. I’ll be visiting soon. Thank you for your sweetness. 💋
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X
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We should bust our old seams, and then discard the pieces that are no longer resourceful…it’s the only way to grow wings. Thanks for sharing my photograph and article! Your creativity is louder than a cicada’s abdominal boombox.
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Abdominal boom box! How cool is that?! Your cicada post, photos, and film are thrilling to see. How could one not be inspired by your heaps of talent, my Fly friend? 🦋💖
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An absolutely wonderful poem Rose. 💕
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I’m absolutely happy you’re here, my darkling! I hope you’re doing well. Thanks so much. 💝
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I will keep my mouth shut when I hear the cicadas! Great poem and picture, as always.
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Lol. Not fond of cicada crumbs, K? Many thanks, my dear. 💋
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What a striking poem…pretty horrendous! but lovely and a photo so special too.
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Horrendous — a wonderful word! Thanks my wise and most talented friend. 🌹
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This is yet another truly beautiful poem, and the choice of a cicada is brave and interesting. For me the sound of the cicada is exotic and romantic. ‘We’d sing as one’ I interpret as an ultimate coming together. S
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You make me soar like a cicada! Thanks very much for your sweet words which I shall keep in my purse; in my makeup bag… some of a woman’s most prized possessions are in her makeup bag. 👛💄💋
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What a wonderful image (is that a skull tattoo on its back?)–your words reminded me of the old folk song “I wish I were some tiny sparrow”, but I love the idea of an insect instead of a bird! (K)
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Good eyes — yes, it’s the cicada’s tramp stamp 😁 The Tiny Sparrow lyrics are somewhat morbid — I enjoyed them so much! Much thanks, K. I’m familiar with Peter, Paul and Mary. Puff the Magic Dragon is a favorite. 🦋💞
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What a delightful poem and about my favorite insect. I love the way they sing to each other in groups. I believe it’s by rubbing their legs together. Sort of like an opera for insects.
I hope you are well… jc
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Thanks my dear friend! I think you’re thinking of grasshoppers or crickets. Cicadas actually rub their abdomen to “sing.” Like Buddha, I guess 😀
Just busy at work. I used to only teach art class 3 days a week and now it’s up to 5 days. Thank you for thinking of me, JC. I’ll visit you soon. xo
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Sounds like what I did to Alpha. 😆 Fantastic poem, Rose. I love it!
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Ah, I get it, naughty Kat! 😁 You kids are always playing. Thanks darling!
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😉💜
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I love the cicada song. This is a fun poem, and I’m ready to shed my skin now.
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Thanks for visiting! I’ll help peel you — like a banana or an orange?
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I don’t know why, but I’m going to go with banana.
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😀 I’ll try not to slip on your skin afterwards.
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That makes me think of slip and slide.
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Fun!
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Only you, dear Rose, could make a cicada ooze sexually…the Marilyn Monroe of the insect kingdom. ☺️
Lovely poem and illustration.
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I do like things that ooze 😜 Haha! You’re so funny, Cathy!! I hear cicadas like to strip dance. 😆
Thanks very much, dear friend! 💋
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They do indeed…I watched them partying under the oak trees yesterday evening…my oh my, the things I saw…🤣
Always my pleasure to read your work, Rose. 💜
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Wonderful poem, Rose!
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Thanks a lot, Jennie!
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You’re welcome, Rose!
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What a touching and fascinating poem!
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Thank you for your visit and kind words!
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I love cicadas but I don’t know how to say it
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Sick-ah-duzz. 😘
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at last ❤ 😀
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Even after you’ve given us the phronetic spellin, I still ain’t gonna say that right… 😛
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I’m sure it’ll sound very cute, nonetheless. 😄
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This is a fascinating transposition of yourself and I like the cicada very much. Never seen one until now! 😀
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Thought I would dropped by to say hello
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do you have an instagram? I’m at: writer_author_t_ponder
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this is so mesmerising, and you’re a truly talented human. God bless you.
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Thanks for visiting! Your kind words are much appreciated. Blessings to you, too!
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Beautiful photo by Fly…and the poem is epic…how i would love to be a cicada so that i could easily let go of my old self and fly again …and well i could then be anywhere leaving parts of me as the wind blows…then i’d come back together in one piece and.tell you stories of my journey…damn…i think i am talking of my current situation…lol..
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You’ve been traveling a lot? I loved how you interpreted my poem. Fly’s photo did most of the work. Lol. I can see you as a lovely cicada spreading kindness and love poems.
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Our country is in chaos Rose and so as my own little world..lol; that’s why….
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I’m sorry, my sweet friend! How’s your store?
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The store is doing well and been a source of great help for most of our less fortunate fellows here…
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I surely do love this poem. It gave me a big ole smile 😉 Thank you:)
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Happy to hear that, Jazzy! Thanks so much 🙂
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The song is lovely. Good acoustics, I can tell straight away that the singing cicada is sitting right on the roof of someone’s mouth 😉
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Lol. I do enjoy your wondrous mind, Inese. Many thanks. xo
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What an amazing capture by FlyTrap Man! The cicada is too eager to start its new journey through the pores and tongue but Rose, my heart goes out to the one hosting it.
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Fly is an insect whisperer. Thank you, dear Somali. I may have interpreted your lovely comment incorrectly, but the cicada is shedding its old shell. There’s no host involved; although that would be quite the story! xo
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Dear Rose, I realize that host is not the most appropriate word here. What I meant was the cicada is eager for a new start but what about the person on whose tongue it will tumble? I hope I got it right now. 🙂
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Nice poetic intimacy!
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Thank you so much! ☕️💋
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I love your poem, Rose!! You’ve captured both the essence and fascination of these marvellous creatures so wonderfully in your words. There’s something utterly romantic about cicada sounds, they always transport me to a warmer climate and lovely nights. 😄😚💕
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Nice poem !!
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beautiful. i’m glad i stopped by. i’ve missed reading your words.
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A lovely poem – and so is your illustration.
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Thank you for your kind words, Otto. xo
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