Ashore I found myself, on a remote island
Star sand and seashells gleamed under the night sky
Handmade flower crowns on my head
Okinawa’s memories from last summer
Rest gently on my left shoulder while I sleep
Eagerly searching for a trace of paradise in my dreams
I die over and over—
between pages—a ghost
in a world more real than my
own—drowning in ink—
willingly washed ashore—
swelling, bloating breath.
Against my nature of concealment,
I cough out the ink—everywhere—
chaos, carnality, collapse!
onto a canvas I cannot
cower from.
Who else perceives meaning there?
Who else feels the frenzy like fire?
The sailor goes ashore.
the night in the hallway paled into a yellowish screen
showing a black movie, 1963
A time machine of memories sent him back to the years
to meet people long since gone.
A family at the dinner table of people he knew too well
the shadow of his 125 years old father was not there
nectar drinking Colibri exotic as Christmas present never received, the one in the toy shop, a red firetruck
with wooden wheels
And he, the son of the oldest man in the world, had gone to sea, and when he returned, nothing was as remembered, differently by the people around the table
A lacuna of missed years, a distance that was unbridgeable whenever he came home, a stranger silent
augmenting the gap filled with politeness.
They had known and seen him grow to adulthood, but his character remained a mystery, sitting in the living room.
They were related to him and knew he would leave soon.
A nurse gently touched his shoulder are you awake?
Yes, mother, I'm home from the sea.
Ashore at last
The night in the hallway paled into a yellowish screen
showing a black movie, ca 1963
A time machine of memories sent him back to the years
to meet people long since gone.
A family at the dinner table of people he knew too well
the shadow of his 125-year-old father was not there
nectar drinking Colibri exotic as Christmas present never received, the one in the toy shop, a red firetruck with wooden wheels
And he, the son of the oldest man in the world, had gone to sea, and when he returned, nothing was as remembered, differently by the people around the table
an ocean of missed years, a distance that was unbridgeable whenever he came home, a stranger silent
augmenting the gap filled with politeness.
They had known and seen him grow to adulthood, but his character remained a mystery, sitting in the living. room
somehow, they were related to him
they knew he would leave soon.
A nurse gently touched his shoulder,
you are awake?
Yes, my dear, I'm home from the sea.
Come…
Like the ray of hope
An oasis amid the mirage
Bring back your rivulets
Inside my desert!
Spoonful of water
Caring tears!
Come…
Like the rainbow
In to the thickening twilight.
Let the smiling moon
Dance on the lips.
Where two eyes-
Singing in joy,
Dazzling vibes
With passionate dreams
Come…
Like the sea waves
Crushing ashore
Roaring midnights into the veins
Like the woman in love
©SriSuvro
I'll Always Remember You From Ashore
I'll forever look out at the sea
And see you waving
And though I like what I see
I could never ride your waves
Like a seal
I could never undress my feelings for you
Because you had ... so many other seals
The ebb and flows
The low tides
It caught me just in time
More than you'll ever know
My heart hurts at the imperfections of life
... and the mysteries of the sea
connie pachecho
2/10/24
The Mariner ashore
the night in the hallway paled into a yellowish screen
showing a black&white movie ca 1963
A time machine of memories sent him back to the years
to meet people long since gone.
A family at the dinner table of people he knew too well
the shadow of his 125 years old father, was not there
nectar drinking Colibri exotic as Christmas present never received, the one in the toy shop, a red firetruck
with wooden wheels
And he, the son of the oldest man in the world, had gone to sea, and when he returned nothing was as remembered, differently by the people around the table
A lacuna of missed years, a distance that was unbridgeable whenever he came home, a stranger silent
augmenting the gap filled with politeness.
They had known and seen him grow to adulthood, but his character remained a mystery, sitting in the living. room
somehow they were related to him, they knew he would leave soon.
A nurse gently touched his shoulder, are awake?
Yes, mother, I'm home from the sea
Dawn arrives in a dark widow’s shawl.
A hard sea rubs raw
the knuckled bones of the shore.
The first thing a sailor sees as he dreams of arrival
are the white hands. Sometimes the hands
are land marooned seagulls,
sometimes the hands are the open fists of the sea.
When in a stony village by the waves
he disembarks from the tossing dark,
when he clambers over its sea walls
he laughs, but it is not a merry laughter
more a harsh cry of a wild and restless of joy.
The cobbled streets are shedding their scales.
Fish heads are poking through net curtains.
Mackerels swim in world-weary eyes.
Old men leave their cots
shave their whiskers with a clam shell.
Seaweeds hang like dreadlocks from dripping eves.
Bare cold feet roll over paved stones
all is slipping backwards.
A sailor must wash his face with beer
while bailing green water out of his shipwrecked eyes.
I sail ashore a silent war
Shattered regret all the more
Angst sinks deep down ashore
Isolated like remnants of hatred to the core
Lonesome as a lazy lion in the streets of nothingness
And suddenly…
Sadness sweeps over me solemnly
Hushed sounds of revenge and envy sends vibes of virtuous vanity inside us all
Oceans between us and mountains among us
Rage rips us apart
Engaged in effulgent reveries
And I seek remedy
Shake off the tension from off our bones of all-alone
Imagine a world of woefulness melting into the Kingdom of Bliss
Living life with longevity and lament in mind for some odd reason
End the fear leaning against my every side and angels are on every angle, so watch out for them, for they will protect us with miracles and gifts
Neglect the wretched wolves of the deep unknown and seek the doves of delight
Tranquility will conquer over dangerous waters aflow and blasphemy for show
Weep no more and paint sunny smiles upon our faces of glorious grace
Anger will no longer linger around us and happiness will be our truth-trainer
Really bound to be sailing ashore on rivers and oceans of unremitting desire
Washed ashore, fond memories of old;
ours, as I stand, looking out to sea.
Recollections worth their weight in gold.
Abound, images my mind's eye can see.
Entranced; playfully carefree were we!
Footprints we used to stamp in the sand
as we walked by the shoreline, hand in hand.
What fun we had splashing in the shallows!
Thanks for memories so wondrous and grand.
They sing in my heart like summer swallows!
Date written: 05/09/2020
We go to one place via another
To do an activity and then leave
If we are allowed to do so
If we are not dead or burnt alive
Or heart stolen by a local gal
We go to this place from afar
Not expecting to be here
Or to do what we must
This is the way it is
For when you're not local
You have to do things
That the locals couldn't do
Like blowing up the tunnels
Full of live enemy soldiers
Have no pity for if we switched
Some of us are from Texas
Others from Maine or Idaho
We have one thing in common
We are in the Army and must fight
This battle and the next
Till we win then return home
For those who remain here
They are never forgotten
This land is now theirs
A home from home
The 6th Division at Mt Mataba
And other unnamed hills
The waters purl like a soft parade,
caressing the crudest of grains ashore,
with no straws nor barricades...
cascades a tribute to the bygone lore
who's song once sung but now no more.
Therein I lie where the wind is low,
and tranquility in all its keep i hold,
bequeath me slow...
as it does into me so it seeps,
words and whispers, forecasting
dreams.
She is the heartbeat of her ancient mothers.
Fathoms slide from her shell as she shrugs
out of her oceanic space-suit.
She strokes laboriously
through sand and a murderous gravity,
head exploring ways.
Beyond the next dune
she will excavate a womb alien to her own.
A dug-out oven for the suns steady eye.
Already gulls cry and swoop. Eyes closed
she lays her translucent eggs,
her blood singing of brine and loss.
A wave less depth awaits
where just a few of her kind
will take flight.
My body washed unbidden on your shore
Tossed by life's waves to be maroon
I shall sail waves desperate never more
As I found love in your sheltered lagoon
I have nothing, no jeweled treasure to share
No bright diamonds, red rubies, precious art
You clothed me in reason, this coat I wear
For my gift, a promise we'll never part
My love humble and eternally free
I give it without my worry or fear
Placed on your heart's altar for you to see
With only this, you keep it well my dear
Life, cast me out from its brigantine deck
A lone survivor from my own shipwreck
9/14/17
Gone Ashore Sonnet
I have sailed on many seas
they have various colours and smell,
but being indoors looking out
it got a bit boring as well.
One can’t stand by a porthole all day,
water stretching wet and endlessly
I knew I was never going to see
green grass again.
From a mountain, I can see the sea
but never go near the bloody thing
I swim in a river when it is hot.
Sea, shrieking gulls and rusty steel,
I prefer the forest and
the valley that has an unblinking eye.
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