Best Foreshore Poems
At day's end, I take in the last light
seeping into the dark waters
across the bay and keep it here.
I gather the sound of departing gulls
smudged on the sky, the quietening
settle of birds in the cypress trees
along the foreshore, the giggle
of a child high on a swing
being pushed by a mothers hand.
I hold here the gentle sweep
of waves soaking into wet sand,
the slow roll of seaweed, bubbles
bursting around shells, wings
low over the water.
I draw in the evening and keep
it close with its lights
sprinkled around the edges
of the headland,
emerging stars hung soundless
in the heavens, the blinking
passage of a southbound airplane
heading into a long night.
From somewhere, the smell
of honeysuckle spilling
into the waiting air.
I make my way home, filled
with all that I have taken in,
almost happy having little space
left over to fit myself.
Categories:
foreshore, eve, nature, spiritual, sunset,
Form:
Free verse
"Into the Ultramarine"
barefoot along the path down to the beach
the memories follow me like seagulls
either side the honour guard of scarlet coastal banksia
and the sharp green scent of Bribie Island pine
wave over me
The wide expanse of a life
like the wild side foreshore
now vastly eroded,
the space between, much shorter
the tides in time
have taken
the sands further out
dissolving the childish past
past the dissolving
further out
the Ocean deep
calls me further in
shedding skin
like a Selkie
diving head first
bare feet the body slippery
into the Ultramarine
the Ultramarine
like a possessive lover
takes me
Candide Diderot. ‘24
Categories:
foreshore, muse,
Form:
Free verse
At this harbor, I'm welcoming you as the moon in the middle of the mist
Even Victoria’s keel [1] takes some tears back home, the southern voices
All I want is thee unbinding hair stack pieces
But you said, “Something happened with Captain Magellan indeed”
Therefore I am that Lapu-Lapu [2]: Adventurer killer
Because love is fatherland I stand up for, until I wither
And a waiting has become grave for days in suffer
So are you: a poem I’ve wrote with tears
"Love is immortal," thou say to the tides at foreshore
Like a solitude staying at heart, never leave for sure
And we are the dawn body missing sunrise in pure
But I very sure that love is giving and never taking
So battle in Mactan [3] I heard as usual sad story telling
Then anchor’s elevated, another journey is begin.
[1] Sailing Ship of Magellan
[2] Tribe which winning a battle of Mactan from coalition army between Datu Zula and Magellan.
[3] A little isle in Philippines. Near from Cebu Island. The battle happened in 27 April 1521.
Categories:
foreshore, love, love,
Form:
Sonnet
I come to this little cove often -
no work, I have time to burn.
See Asians plunder its foreshore,
I still fish - show no concern.
Red-bill seagulls fly in circles,
fight over scraps they have won.
Never giving a thought to Icarus
who flew too close to the sun.
Soon a woman wanders over
and asks me what I’ve caught.
I tell her nothing yet but “you’d
be a great catch” I thought.
I know the swallows smirk at me,
my appearance they detest.
I cast my line and ignore them
(or at least I do my best).
Things start spinning in my head
like what it’s like to drown.
Did King Neptune sit on a throne
and did he wear a crown?
I come alone to this place often
to remember and reflect.
A place of beauty and meaning,
a place where I can forget.
Written: 1992
———
Ladder Bay is a sheltered cove in
the northern beaches of Auckland
New Zealand not too far from my
home in the East Coast Bays.
Categories:
foreshore, introspection,
Form:
Rhyme
On the foreshore of memory
Consciousness works overtime
Trying to decipher what is to come
In the depth of the iceberg of the mind
The future is.
Categories:
foreshore, deep, imagination, inspiration,
Form:
Free verse
not a bone to pick on beach walks
with my lover just pleasure and leisure
strolls in the sand of time and togetherness
joined at the hips of mind body and soul
sizzling fingertips and footsteps near the edge
of the water crested in undulation
two people one wavelength
vital force and universal calling
treading a path of happy destiny
every now and then we find a fossilised form
minute skeleton small reminder
that permanence does not exist
of the past being bygone
and the future yet to come
as long as life grants us more hours
sometimes there is a bit of amber to be found
majestic tree sap for jewellery and ornaments
treasure gems and relics of measured meter
and the wonderful presence of nature
resonating resin if fortune is kind
occasionally a fish gnawed to the bone
by a seagull like Jonathan Livingston
its meaning as melodious as a Bach symphony
while our strides become a concerto in themselves
the saunter resembles a poem
quietly recited without words
simply flowing to the sound of the waves
of synaesthetic delight with sea stars’ applause
to the magnificent galactic power of
sun moon and stellar composure
sorrows melt away with each further step
the foreshore fuses between our toes
as the covered bones print a trail
washed away by tidal command
gratitude humility love and compassion
truly not a bone to grind with each other
blessed by a union made in heaven and beyond
Categories:
foreshore, beautiful,
Form:
Free verse
Chapter
The alcove beside the fire place
Oft-times spoke about their restive days
Those from the falls of sobs through the beams of smiles
As we live the de nos jours,
The quarantine debouched into the masses;
Crafts and joints inscribed in italics 'closed'.
Will their love fall apart?
Or
Will it sail highs and lows to en route the foreshore?
Beneath the skin and blood
Tongue cherish mangoes
Thirst quest lemonade
And her frock laces whirled in eddies of wind
(He loved this chapter, it was his favourite by a long shot.)
Categories:
foreshore, 12th grade, art, character,
Form:
Narrative
THE CRIPPLED
Walking toward foreshore
I saw the devil seated on a fence
Fishing
Next day I heard he got a thrashing
It was intense
Blood trickled from his core
He would fish no more
Baby and Mommy shark were out to score.
*
Categories:
foreshore, baby, corruption, family, innocence,
Form:
Bio
When I think of my father my heart
starts beating in time with his 7 A.M.
footsteps on hardwood floors.
His image rests in the second chamber
of my heart. If I could shrink you
down and put you in there, you’d hear
the sharp, industrial twang of golf balls
alongside windblown, sun-wrecked dune reeds and shark
fins cresting the ocean’s ceiling.
My nose fills with scents of SPF 4
and scheduled coffee. Salt spray off
the foreshore permeates the air as he runs
up and down the neural pathways he forged
with white hot reaffirmations and ice cold habits.
If you were to run the needle over my
inherited, though painted skin, the music would
radiate in clouds of bookstore doorbells,
deafening sneezes and sports bar televisions.
This year I’m starting construction on a new
chamber in my heart; one just to hold
the memories of my father, a chamber filled
with the loud, consistent banging of beanbags on wood,
a chamber big enough for me to chase after
frisbees tossed with sixty-eight-year-old skill
most crucially, a chamber with integrity
enough to hold the blue, persistent flame
in focus long enough for me to light my own
cigarette, and smile as the smoke comes out.
The new room design has soundproof walls
and the door and locks are all fireproof,
withstanding flames as hot as the water my
mother uses to wash his greasy meatloaf pans.
Categories:
foreshore, love, parents,
Form:
Free verse
I stand on the foreshore
Warm sun touches my face
Cool water laps at my bare feet
In that moment pure pleasure l embrace
Categories:
foreshore, appreciation, joy, nature, simple,
Form:
Rhyme
A constant charging and retreating,
leaving behind the soaking sand,
is the ever changing of the tide,
pushing the sea against the land.
And all along the changing shoreline,
Pacific Gulls glide on patrol,
seeking out the ocean bounties,
of washed up departed souls.
There’s flotsam and old cuttlebone;
driftwood finally makes the shore.
Stints and waders chase invertebrate
stranded along the sandy floor.
And up above high water mark,
there is the victims of wild gales.
Dead sea grass in drying windrows,
meander below sand dunes in trails.
New Zealand spinach thrives and spreads.
Marram grass has stabilized the dunes,
and here and there is native spinifex,
among the burrows of communes.
These communes arrive in early spring
in thousands to the burrows each year,
so it becomes a special time,
with mutton birds returning here.
And constant charging and retreating,
leaves behind the soaking sand,
in the ever changing of the tide,
pushing the sea against the land.
Categories:
foreshore, nature,
Form:
Rhyme
Setting sun carved a path over the Humber
From Hessle right across the river bend
To join the banks at Ferriby Foreshore
Where that path came to its end.
The great smelter chimney
Rising there darkly up high
Sent its stream of carcinogenic smoke
Crawling across the reddening sky.
The resident old transvestite man,
Beach combing the bank for wood
Let the small boat he pulled drift so it
Crossed the path from where I stood.
To my rear the Bridge dominated
Striding the river from side to side
Then the longest in the world
With its span totalling a mile wide.
That strange mixture of past and present
Not there to be seen anymore
For the smelter was pulled down
And taken to pollute a foreign shore;
And the old man in his strange garb?
Not even sure if he’s still here.
I’ve not walked that old path
For far too many years.
But the bridge, now second biggest,
Still spans the waterway
Carrying the road’s traffic
Day after day after day.
A hush in the gathering darkness.
Fading to silence bird song.
And as the sun lowered to earth
My scarlet path was gone.
Categories:
foreshore, memory, river, sunset, water,
Form:
Rhyme
SAND LESS BEACH- A Haiku
unfriendly foreshore
a little, bad hammer swims
beyond the sand less
mud color red clay
water dissipated skies
fish hidden gone where
capture unfriendly
a cross eyed, mad sea gull swims
on the sand less beach
skydiving sea gull
people playing volleyball
on the sand less beach
5/27/19
Categories:
foreshore, analogy, appreciation, beach,
Form:
Haiku
A butterfly's flight,
Lost in the foreshore of the night;
With tears in her eyes,
She hung from the trees and cried.
Her gaze met mine,
And in that moment, we intertwined;
With the moonlight as our guide,
She sang and spread her wings wide.
She fell from the trees,
Onto the water, as gentle as a breeze;
It seemed she had lived for eons,
As her wings glimmered like precious stones.
I touched them with grace,
And in that touch, I found my place;
For in the foreshore of the night,
Her peace and melody took flight.
As the night draws to a close,
And the shelter of dreams fades and goes;
The touch of her wings,
And the tranquility in her sings.
Forever in my soul,
Without fail, her beauty unfolds.
Categories:
foreshore, emotions, fate, flower, for
Form:
ABC
By foreshore brink
A curious think
The lakeside draught
Hurls icy stuff
Cold air swirls flair
To flush cold fare
We walk around
Chilly strides ground
Lovely flats here
Prompt cost most clear
Hot coffee sips
In a warm grip
Kingston foreshore
Now tells me more
Leon Enriquez
17 May 2018
Hamlet Place, ACT
Categories:
foreshore, allegory,
Form:
Couplet