My brain is in brine.
My neurons are loose stones.
Some things are more dented than a mental image.
The greatest stuff is in soup cans.
Whatever makes you open such a thing.
Is not hunger.
It’s a centipede that reminds you to be hungry.
Blobs.
My neurons are loose.
The greatest stuff is in soup cans.
Prickly, squirmy.
The empty can on the floor.
The carcass.
all drift side by side
in grief's uncharted sea
starfish grip the surge
while seahorses coil and plunge
helpless, prancing in the brine
Some flee from the tide
yet none escape its etching
the shore bears its scars
waves return what once they stole
the past is bound to here now
barnacles hold fast
clinging on to weathered wood
on wharf posts astray
wailing to passing shoals
a dirge for the drifted-off
The tide gives and takes
gathers wrecks then steals away
we cling to fragments—
to a hull, stone, or a ghost,
whatever offers foothold
the sea runs through us
austere, fierce, and resonant
its surf a raw hymn
not written, but overheard
its sound louder than words
clams, seashells, pearls wait
companions in churning swells
silent side by side
each shell guards a hidden secret
in grit and sound of ocean
cast no net to see
mark the day and guard the night
read the sea's dark code
its secret pleas for kinship
when you go, with flow and wave
the waves that bear us
lift each soul when swell rises
with cadence and rhythm—
to sing the sea shanty songs
to those who drifts on the tide
torrents of tears flowed
when he saw a sea dragon
beached dehydrated
for he knows that it like him
could only shed tears on land
the tears were salty
welling from bag of sea brine
in the ocean's blood
he harbored in his body
as fluid to bathe his cells
he needed to cry
but till now tears would not spill
weeping on ebb tide
to wash moribund eyes clean
and inhale with a fresh breath
he fights the current
gripping on to refusals
yet the water wins
the dragon prowls in the foam
its searing breath flares fear
one tear another
fell soft on scalded shadow
fell on dragon's eyes
sending the sand grit flying
washing the stall clean of grime
fear sinks in the tide
form of the trial changes
relief opens gate
as ocean consumes his past
dragon wings have unfolded
tears were the pivot
to beat the challenge
breaking resistance
setting sails on favored wind
on the course past the dragon
Bitter words linger—
a salty residue dwells on,
tongues' discourse.
Waves
softly break,
when silence sings loud
the ocean regenerates
me;
Sand,
when the sky kisses the sea
reality’s scratch
tastes just like
brine.
Katy dipped her tabby cat in the pot of brine
She was settled to make his fur silky and shine
But to her utter depression
Raising a pertinent question
The Tabby baby took wing to ride the cloud nine
A jar of olives in brine…?...
Add zinger or a punchline,
Let your juicy thoughts trickle,
Let your tangy wit tickle.
The title too must be fine.
Well the girls here are all made of smoke
And their dreams are living in my beer
A silhoutte wind swoops and sways near
Tonight the ocean leaves the brine
And this smoke here, well she’s all mine
Yeah I’ve got to get out of this place
Even this ash tray is growing a face
But I won’t let the winter bring me down
The faces, the faces, they’re all around
You know the stars are all just God’s germs
And now my shot glass is spawning worms
Tonight the ocean leaves the brine
The moon is now made of sea salt
Forever is no longer going with time
And I guess that could be my fault
I pour out all the rivers of the earth
Onto the concrete sky
Now it’s raining for what it’s worth
And the cement falls into your eye
Well the girls here are all made of smoke
And their realities are dead on the floor
Their thoughts are swimming back to shore
And nightmares don’t get to sleep anymore
The worms are all marching in a line
And tonight the ocean leaves the brine
Swelling tide billows in with ultimate force,
insulting bronze sandy shoreline on its course.
Tossing creatures about in brine water home,
mixing, churning into a white frothy foam.
Against blue horizon velvet waters peer to merge,
illusion vanishes with every sea wavelet surge.
Eyes search far beyond azure ocean so vast,
replicates placidity recently glassed….
Copyright © 2011 By Caryl S. Muzzey
Elusive dreams, I wait on rocky shores
Looking out upon the waters of a troubled storm
Crashing, tearing, reaching to drag me under
Swirling about my ankles, slick rocks beneath my feet.
Will you reach for me when I am falling?
Will you watch me as I drown?
Will you feel any sorrow if I left you?
Would you help me find solid ground?
Siren voices whisper and entice me
Foggy mists beyond my reach
Dancing, calling, whispering of a silent sleep,
If I but release my hold and swim in waters deep.
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