Best Seahome Poems
the air smacks of saltiness from the seas
I feel so alive
fresh like
and wired for the most intrepid of experiences
this sea has me
cradles me in it`s briny fingers
and shows me it`s marvelous creatures that inhabit its environment
the sea is home to whales and dolphins
sea urchins and star fish
that cling and move over the slimy slippery rocks at the bottom
I am drawn to the sea
as it somehow touches the emotional aspects of my being
bringing breath out of depths of these lungs
and wave upon wave
splashing my breath from the shallows onto the shoreline
I give myself over to the sea
it`s rapturous glories that bind my soul to it`s heartbeat
I think
my home is here
within the sea of my heart.
BACCALIEU EPISODE
Portuguese named it when they found
Bacalhau - meaning codfish island. They knew
Its essence - the French called it Baccalieu, *
This dangerously rich fishing ground.
Coming home to St. John’s from Labrador,
Autumn storm swooped on us, undermanned,
As we made west past the bare black island
Into Conception Bay, two miles from shore.
The boat pitched like a rocking horse -
Crashing down into every trough after every crest.
The sleet cut you in two from the west;
With our main boom nearly in two with the force.
The boat - a toy, the combers heeled her over
And thrust the lee rail two foot under.
Baccalieu to port crashed like overhead thunder:
No place to be in late October.
The Baccalieu rocks - lurking, lethal, reaching
For the keel , and the sheer black cliffs wait
Above. We claw her from the rocks of hate
With clouds of storm-petrels screeching.
Now she plunges deeper in the dark
Trying to steady herself, to end the ordeal,
As we struggle, four hands on the wheel,
To end the threat to our heavy-laden ark.
Bringing her head round into Conception Bay
We ease our grips on the wheel,
Deeper water under the keel -
Now we breathe. We’ll be home by end of day.
.................................................................
* Note: For pronunciation experts, regardless of
the French spelling, this dangerous
island is called "Bakaloo" in Canadian English.
* Geographical note: Baccalieu is a few miles north
of the port of St. John's, Newfoundland, Canada.
Sideways Travel
Tiny crevices, they take shelter and make their home in,
wandering around to scavage on garbage brought up from the ocean's floor to eat.
Brightly painted red by their original maker,
they work their way home on their tiny, spindly legs
that together walk sideways,
as their beady little eyes face forward.
You surely squint with pain,
when you get pinched with their tiny little claws,
they will cause your aching skin to severely bleed.
They leave their homes in groups,
and prefer to travel as a comedy troupe with their sideways act
rather roam along the shores alone.
Life would be so drab,
without our side walking red crab.