Poetry Forum

Forum Home » High Critique » Without the Sea

For poets who want unrestricted constructive criticism. This is NOT a vanity workshop. If you do not want your poem seriously critiqued, do not post here. Constructive criticism only. PLEASE Only Post One Poem a Day!!!

12/11/2015 5:22:26 AM

Terry Robinson
Posts: 49

The sun's beams penetrate me,
with fingers delving deeply beneath
the blanket of my surface

And the clouds rise up, as bitter as the
moon eclipsed sun, only to fall back
to earth, with life on the coat-tails of
every drop

On these benign waters rest the swimmers,
whose hearts I hear pitch the perfect beat
and whose skins I caress like a lovers breast;
encasing them in champagne bubbles.

Yet, they ravage me, savage me. Narcissists
seeking the elusive liquors of promised bounty

And, though I envelop the rocks at the edge
of man's domain, I hold from him the abyssal depths;
sparing him from his frailties, and hiding from him
my vanities

The rivers are my children, so easily breached
by the lifeless, upturned fibrous husks of an
acorns bed. David to my Goliath, making fools
of all my tributaries.

The seagulls flying above me, sing their
homages, draining away my windswept salt
from the purpose drilled holes in their beaks.
Like so much brine ejected from salt-encrusted lakes

And, like the harbinger of bad news, the moon's
tides recede within me like elasticated yawns,
revealing the lost souls of battles ancient;
illuminating elysium's reflected glory upon the
silvery face of my Lunar mirrored watch

• permalink • reply with quote