Silent in its violence, the sun
lays its ancient fire hand on the heat-scoured
concrete of the promenade,
the boxy seafront chalets tilting and creaking at angles,
the scorched, salt-stiffened gardens,
sand dunes, the screaming blue sea.
It is so difficult to accept a loss, a deprivation.
Innocence flaps its winding sheet behind me,
its mummy cloth of myth.
As from an isolated moon I see
the first cold breaker rush to engulf me:
an underwater undulance,
undercurrents of menace, of malice.
The sand-strewn strand stretches into infinity,
shimmering with the visions, the voices, the echoes,
the faceless departments of government and society.
I watch the insouciant people around me,
they possess a flatness, like blank paper.
They hump and lug plastic picnic paraphernalia,
ridiculously, all beach grime and blistered backs,
reduced to a red cindery glow.
Ice creams, scooped from the freezers
in trinkety seashore shops,
are clutched in sunburned hands.
They are spreading striped sunbathing mats,
snide and smiling slyly.
Is it a mirage, a delusion,
plucked from the desert-dry air?
The air snags in my throat: the flat summer stench
of warm wood, sun lotion, billowing cotton -
blank but expansive; the creaking, the flapping.
A strange wind howls and banters in my ear.
And the train shrieks through its station -
the station of my brain -
a riddled red abyss, poker-hot.
The sun is sinking:
a disc of fire, a blood clot.
Water floods the ridgy shallows,
eddying into treacherous pits.
The black gun muzzle of my mouth
flays the oxygen from the air.
My nerves a hive of wires suffering
the scarlet atrocities.
Pokers put out my eyes.
Squeezed by the forceps of agony
I see nothing, nothing
but a mirage of wavering dunes closing in
and the sea splintering; a multitude of glass glittering.
Summer scent is the smell of freedom
where we can escape the flavor of boredom
so we plan to have our vacation on the beach
where we can relax and fresh air is within our reach
The warm wind tenderly embraced my spirit
I felt excited on this first visit
on an island where refugees can find paradise
an island where spending time is wise
The dulcet breeze gently kisses lush green trees
and the mirthful sun smiles over the vast seas
Where surfers play with gigantic waves
and are not certain on what road it paves
The fluffy clouds are smoothly sailing
the birds are singing and harmoniously dancing
There are butterflies that are colorful in hue
like enchanted fairies changing colors from pink to blue
I need my sun block, it's time for swimming
the tables are full because later we're all eating
Ladies are smiling to many cool surfer dudes
Children are hungry seeing delicious exotic foods
I picked a shell that whispered peacefully in my ears
and we built castles that we fancied over the years
out of the small grains of white sands
and all you need is helping hands
God was really great in creating splendid wonders
that were loved by all especially the nature lovers
There are numerous oceans that are aquamarine
and abundant trees and grasses that are green
The brother sun was slowly hiding
because the sister moon was coming
I guess it was our time to pack
but there will come a time for us to go back
Go back to a place of leisure and freedom
where you'll not taste the flavor of boredom
It would be hard for us to say goodbye
because truly we will come back and say Hi!
Golden goddess up above,
shine down on me rays of love.
Summer dreams, they come to me,
bright white sands on the beach.
Rays of sun that warm my skin,
waves of blue come crashing in.
Sailboats sailing in,
summer breezes, summer wind.
Sandcastles along the shore,
summer rains, they always pour.
Summer dreams they come to me,
children playing on the beach.
Rays of sun that warm the sand,
couples walking, holding hands.
Baby blue summer sky,
summer dreams of you and I.
In the cool morning the sun rises.
Over the sleeping jungle lies:
Cold, still fog—from the sun it flies
To wake the sleep of lonely night.
The parrot’s feathers shake with chill.
As through the trees the sun does peep;
To wake new life in things that sleep—
And banish all the thoughts of night!
The tiger’s hairs stand up on end.
The monkey wakes to scream and shout:
“The dawn has come. The sun is out!”
Vanished now are the things of night—
For dawn is only the reign of Light!
Summer is here once again.
The breeze is warm,
I smell salt on the wind.
The same sandy beach between my toes,
The same waters I learned to swim.
Sun burn on my nose,
To the Ocean I dive in.
I submerse myself in the waters of the Atlantic
Warmer than the West Coast Thankfully
Cold, I simply cannot handle it!
Further out I paddle faithfully,
For my mother ocean to keep me sane,
this is my therapy,
to soothe this migraine.
This place gives me energy,
a weakness with a name.
Pleasure Island, NC.
A place hidden with fortunes
and undiscovered fame.
Never could I stray from the ocean
my passions would never be fulfilled
and I would never be the same.
Dedicated to my Dad on Father's Day 2013
The man who introduced me to the ocean and educated me about it and gave me reason to love appreciate and respect it.
She's highly sophisticated and full of undefiled wisdom
Yet a crowned Duchess in a paradise kingdom
Quite a beautiful angel flying with black wings
Covered in gold jewelry and precious things
She dresses like the women of ancient Egyptian class
Her wealth is generous and her money grows like grass
She loves orange scented candles with dark room flame
She rules thirty legions of soldiers and Bune is her name
Her comely warrior voice can wake and relocate the dead
Her armies of soldiers gather around the cemetery
She is brave and deserves a princessly crown on her head
Her facility of speech and flair for words is legendary
A beautiful queen to be treated with respect and honor
Instead of blasphemy,wanton abuse and fictional horror
“God bless us all when the door is shut behind us,
only then will we breathe our first breath,
from the long dream…”
Forging past the indisputable summit onto the
shelf of the perfect medium (ah, ‘tis noble here!)
he sits, contemplating his balance. He does not sweat.
The winds breath breaks upon his predestined neck,
bestowing the gift of lily white scent upon a lapel that’s
stiff, yet pliable – just stiff enough. A 72 degree sun
shines its neutrality, (fueling his desire for nothing at all,
just the concept of sun giving heat, like a heartbeat,
unnoticed in its certainty) upon his stagnant face.
He is wearing his favorite pants (soft, worn jeans with
a little give, but not enough so that he forgets to hold
in his stomach), and from the ample pocket, he takes
an apple. It is a Red Delicious. Not quite living up to its
name, but unassuming and secure in its redness – he eats.
It’s not the best apple he’s ever had, but its good enough.
The vultures, native to this coveted desert waste circle,
vying for the core of his Non-Delicious, yet edible fruit.
And as he Bites into the last white taste of just fine, a glint
of sunlight flashes briefly – like infinity within dreams,
off of the vultures black eyes. And all at once he knows –
everything is. The death birds orbit the terracotta desert
peek (red and inviting in its dry and unforgiving reality),
the bird turns away so fast after catching his eye,
he forgets that he’d ever seen its pulsing recognition.
The forgettable sunset mollifies him - sedates him,
pacifying his every forgettable non-movement.
It is then, when the last dripping light of day descends
behind the obvious rock mount; the definite edge
of darkness falls. Shadows creep slowly and quickly
across the terrestrial rock spine, (engulfing its redness
in its totality) leaving just the remnants of burgundy
skin between yellowing teeth, and a deafening black desert.
As the sound of raucous wings and ripping jeans dominates
the guttural desert - the vultures take their coveted prize.
*Reposted for Deborah's Something Wicked This Way Comes, Wickedness Contest. :)
Summer is a lemonade
Summer breeze blowing the grass around
with a warm sun kissing my face
blue skies wrap and hug me
as I watch the butterflies race.
Summer gives me lazy days
coloured flowers and dancing trees
smell of charcoal and starry nights
brings back childhood memories.
Summer is an endless beach
sun cream, bikinis and beer
salty seaspray, fish and chips
postcards saying "wish you were here".
sunburnt shoulders and fun fares
laughter never seemed to fade
grab the ice and share around
yes Summer is a lemonade
On that cloudy weekend in June
I hear a soft and graceful tune
from the grey bird on the tree
Singing sweet lullabies felt
blessed in the moment
My body tingles of joy at sight
Gazing out through
my open door,
Letting thoughts fly free
Releasing love out into the horizon
Heart filled with emotion came
Grey bird stood playing its tune
for awhile and on the wings of
Then as the rain fell from the
sky the grey bird flew away
I blew a kiss to the clouds and
utterd these simple words of I
Love You father ( who's now in
heaven ) and yet I hope to hear
that grey bird sing again once
more for me
Farewell, love your son
Poem contest for Debbie -referential
Clouds, white or gray gone
Not leaving a trace behind
And pure azure blue skies, drown
In blinding sunshine.
Summer has arrived
The sun beats down on the plains
Mercilessly, changing life
Once quite green, now pale.
Yet flowers do bloom
yellow accents fields gone dry
Vines in red, rose and purple hues
Cacti, their blooms bright.
Yet the earth suffers
Turned beggar, longs for water
Mountains turn rusty amber
River beds' dry stare.
But deep underneath
Thermal volcanic water
A treasure is found, healing
Giving courage, dream.
The winds pick up speed,
As the sun descends the blue
Transforming the ski's appeal
Orange and mauve hues.
Temperatures cool down
The earth is relief from scorch
People come out, still look out
For a sign of clouds.
When at last they come
Not a complain is heard, but
in all their hearts, dread is gone
The promise is up.
Copyright © 07.09.11