Raw Earth Ink
spit, mixed with dirt – muddy words flow
Black Beetles
black beetles creeping down the walls
eyes stare out
nothing behind them except everything
everything
everything
every
thing
nothing behind them at all
black beetles clickety-click-cuhlicking along
ash curlicues
swirls and slithers through my veins
dancing pearls down my veins
alphabet ash moves slow out my veins
my veins as roads to pure thought
black beetles skittering right out the walls
there’s numbness and pride
or disgust and shame
they all reflect identical faces
mirror to mirror
infinity feedback loop
there’s numbness and shame weeping
plippety-plop-pahlipping
until the muddy earthen vessel overflows
melts through the side
melts holes out the side
pours and flows out the holes
black beetles slip and fall to their backs
slipping and wishing they all could go back
back up and over and in
back over my chin past my teeth and my throat
black beetles wanting just to go back home
tara caribou | ©2020
Read this and more in my poetry book, Fallen Star Rising.
47 Comments on “Black Beetles”
Raw Earth Ink 
Goosebumps! Very spooky. Hope you have a great Valentine’s Day!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks Tom, you too.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Well, I didn’t know it until now but that sounds like my worst nightmare, or close enough! 😛
LikeLiked by 1 person
It wasn’t that scary. Eventually they made their way back home… I think. I don’t know, I wasn’t really clear-minded enough to be completely aware of their plight by the end 😉
LikeLiked by 1 person
Yeah, maybe they were just going to a beetle convention somewhere, with confetti and streamers and candy and everything! 😛
LikeLiked by 1 person
mmmm that’s not quite how I remember it, but if that’s what you gotta tell yourself 😉
LikeLiked by 1 person
Hee hee hee. 😛
LikeLiked by 1 person
“nothing behind them except everything”
I love that line.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you. It seemed to make sense at the time.
LikeLiked by 1 person
It makes perfect sense to me! I could be totally off, but I interpreted it as being like a ‘heavy emptiness’.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Great interpretation, (someone else said it sounded like heroin drug use).
LikeLiked by 1 person
Hmm, although I can’t personally speak to what that feels like, I can see where they are coming from.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Yeah, I have no experience with that either. 🤷🏼♀️ I just responded, ‘huh, interesting’. lol
LikeLiked by 1 person
Whoa that was dark, I got shivers and not the good type. Reminded me of my grandmothers hallucinations 😱
LikeLiked by 1 person
Whoa! You’ve seen your grandmother’s hallucinations??! Wow. That’s some good shit there!! 😉 JK
LikeLiked by 1 person
Oh yeah, it was spiders with her. My least favourite insect. I mean arachnid. Scary fucking shit. No wonder I’m so messed up, it’s in the genes 😂
LikeLiked by 1 person
LOL – there’s nothing wrong with spiders. My rule is, they’re only allowed inside if they pay rent or carry their weight (ie: catching flies or mosquitoes). If not, they’re out. Oh, and they aren’t allowed in my bedroom lol
LikeLiked by 1 person
You see, now you’re creeping me out 😱. It’s like the idea that you’re never less than 6 feet from a rat. So gross 🤮
LikeLiked by 1 person
We don’t have rats in Alaska (except pet rats).
LikeLiked by 1 person
Ughh. I live on the edge of a quarry/mini forrest. Fuckers are everywhere 🤢
LikeLike
You have beetles, too? (Love this)
LikeLiked by 1 person
I did until they crawled back in my mouth.
LikeLiked by 1 person
This piece, for me, shows how developed your work has become. I like the macabre tone and lyricalness. Hints Of Dahl, and I love the tantalising threat of hopelessness flanked by the need to go on and show, and do. Beetles seem to be a perfect fit too, anything else might not have the same impact…..maybe spiders, but I prefer your choice!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks Mark. I appreciate your insight. And yes, they were definitely beetles. I’ve played around a bit with writing, well, sort of like you do, in that my words have underlying meanings. There’s the surface… and then there’s the underneath stuff.
LikeLike
The underneath is the best part, people can reappropriate the words and the images, but i love how there will always be the writer’s bedrock. Thank you for sharing, loving those beetles and their creepy hi-jinks!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Awesome. So glad you do.
LikeLiked by 1 person
The wonder of “what is”. You presented things so well.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks John.
LikeLike
You are welcome.
LikeLike
There’s a strong capacity to act radically through words, and I can only imagine how good it must feel to sense it if you can put on this kind of work.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Nice one. The second to last line makes me wonder if there is something more to this poem or just an intense visual B-)
LikeLiked by 1 person
It definitely had meaning at the time. I was depressed for one thing. I also have bouts of intense self-doubt and -hatred. In those times, I wonder why I say anything at all. No one is listening, so why say it. That’s, at least, part of it.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I had a feeling there was something more there. Those times are tough, but I think letting it out through poetry helps us overcome it B-)
LikeLiked by 1 person
It very often does, yes.
LikeLike
Take care 😎
LikeLiked by 1 person
Sometimes I think we are all black beetles! Climbing the walls wishing to get back on our feet!!
By the way, I checked out your book on Kindle and all I got was a cover. I could not turn the pages.
LikeLiked by 1 person
hhhhmmm thanks Dwight. I will go check it out. It was working two days ago when I checked….
LikeLiked by 1 person
Hi Dwight, are you referring to The Poets Symphony? If so, I just bought the book and it worked perfectly. If it’s still not working for you, please email me at raw.earth.ink@gmail.com and I will help you that way. Thanks!!
LikeLiked by 1 person
I will check it out again and see if it opens.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I went back and reloaded it. It still did not turn the page from the cover, but when I went to the Go To and clicked on the chapters they came up and the pages turned. Not sure why it did not turn from the title. Thanks Dwight
LikeLiked by 1 person
Oh good. I looked at it on several devices so I was a little worried 😦
LikeLiked by 1 person
I am glad I figured it out! Thanks.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Those times when escape is impossible. A great metaphor for depression, I think. Well crafted, Tara.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you Chris. Your insight is always right on.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Poetry (perhaps more than any other art form) is very personal, but it is always nice to know that you (as a reader) have a handle on what the poet was aiming to convey.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I couldn’t agree more!
LikeLiked by 1 person
🤣
LikeLike