Frothing Poems

Where Waves Become Me

waves crash and tumble
washing feet in sifting sand
my mind drifts to hush
thoughts dissolve in frothing foam—
I'm emptied of all burdens

for this brief moment
I'm at peace, sublime, profound
wrapped in the soft surge
before undertow returns—
dragging me below again

yet if I give in
let the current carry me
not fight its embrace
it cradles me in its foam —
to drift alone in its stride

sea and self converge
with no edge lying between
woe betide and me —
I can uncover and learn
that I and water are one

IN AND OF BOTCHED SOWN UNAWARENESS

IN AND OF BOTCHED SOWN UNAWARENESS

Just unlock your mind,
And let its waves freely flow:
Frothing awareness:-
I thought you needed my help;
Me, loving unaware:

How unfortunate,
My mental awareness botched;
My mind blindsided:
Triumphant love shadowing
Forgiveness being denied:-

We reap what we sow.
To reap love, you must sow it:
Life’s divine wisdom:-
How could I have sown hate?!
Please God, reveal it to me:-

Ready and waiting,
Like a young ripe banana
Picked for love’s pudding,
Sage forgiveness faithfully
Waits, mixing in love’s pudding:-

untitled

Just to see your mouth frothing,
and your un-consicous-ness,
and the doctor declares
all your battling and history
has been for nothing.
I still remember
your first hospital stay,
I bought you chewies
that were your favs,
You said "thank-you for this"
With a cheery smile,
though it was the storm
of what was to come.
I asked God to forgive you,
so many fricking times!!!

TO BASKING ON THE SHORES OF MY POETIC SEABED

TO BASKING ON THE SHORES OF MY POETIC SEABED

Lying here on the shores of the seabed of poetic creation,
May this flow of waving words stream joy, worthiness, and
Inspiration to the thirsty eyes they froth upon; hydrating them,
And energizing sad, weary souls with peace, love, and hope.

May such allegorical words overflow into waiting cups, 
To later be sipped by a deciphered understanding of minds
Hungry for awareness, truth, and guidance towards liberation:-
Indeed, may God pour out of my poetic cistern, his divine wisdom.

And for these frothing waves of words of peace and love,
I would be in dehydrating remission if I did not give praise
And thanks to my fellow blessed scribes who likewise
Continue to water my poetic seabed with nourishing grace:-

WATERED LIFE

Life's no banked river...
Life's roving waves frothing shores...
Life's oceanic...

Are we really who we think we are? 10-07-25

I chanced upon a rushing mirror
who danced along with all the urgency 
of an early summer's wind,
a serene creature whose silver surface
seemed to only focus on reaching the sea.
In its tail I saw a human,
whose hair was the same colour as mine,
whose nose and mouth breathed the same air I did,
whose eyes captured my every memory.
They were someone who I recognised,
indeed they are who I am
just not who I considered myself to be.
Sometimes, I lose myself
becoming fixated on who I was
and what I had done
not what I am doing nor who I was now.
Every so often, I find it helpful 
to find somewhere dark and silent
and, just briefly, think.
The mirror flows on
cascading over rocks and toppled trees,
smothering my face in frothing bubbles.

AS IS GOD'S TIME

AS IS GOD'S TIME

Our love is as God’s time be:
Tick tocking eternally:-

I’m yours, and you’re mine;
Our love, God’s gift, sublime:-

I am for you, and you are for me;
Our love is as is God’s time be:-

You are the water of my life’s sea:
Waving and frothing love eternally:-

Carbon dating

I'd been sleeping poorly what with my agonies
needed an early morning nap but
at a ratatatat on the front door I jerked awake and
obediently open up, a respectable couple not
this time trying to get me to switch my energy supplier or
join the young communists but
'We're from The Sun'
asking me if I had any thoughts on the 'Love Island House'

Excuse me what

She mentioned a house number and I blearily
glanced across the road at
the house recently painted in blue and pink
mumbling, I really don't care about it
'Could we use your name'
but I'm not deranged enough to give them that, and

It turns out it wasn't the house opposite but further along
beyond my eyeline,
I'd seen it tarted up with lights
seems it's been called out by a disgruntled neighbour
"The house is lit up like a building from Las Vegas"
and The Sun was frothing at the thought
of a Love Island related story and bothered me
Lee Holloway Towers in his fretful slumbers

Not my problem baby and
I will never sleep again

Wind Of Chance

Wind Of Chance 

The billowing wind 
rendered alluring melodies
luring many men
thirsty for his fate
each beholding his cup 
full of frothing lager 
concealing the lethal dregs 
making the jolly man
a hollow being

A LITANY OF TODAY'S FROTHING POETIC WAVES

A LITANY OF TODAY'S FROTHING POETIC WAVES

GLORY BE TO GOD

Healing thanks to God,
sun risings, and sun settings;
Each day, a blessing:-

OF PARADISE LOST

Apple fell from tree,
Teasing snake tricked she and he,
Leaving you and me,
Evicted from paradise,
Where all was peace, love, and nice:-

HALTING EVIL WINDS

Horror winds blowing,
Breezing political grief;
God’s halting coming:-

GLORIOUS SUNSHINE

His sunshine lights up
The spirit of each day’s heart;
Come God, light up mine’s too,
Always reflecting your light
In daily labors of love:-

OF ANY AND EVERYTHING

What can God not do?!
Not a question, an answer;
Glory be to God!
There is nothing God can’t do!
Thus, be today’s awareness:-

SPRING BEACHING

SPRING BEACHING

Wet and dry sands pleased,
frothing waves compensating
spring's sweet sunshine shores:-

IN MOISTURIZING SELF

Be not like lost leaves,
blowing around in dry dirt;
be as frothing waves…:-

OF POETIC PROSE AND RHYME IN TRYING TIMES

I’m not whom
You may think 
I am
But am the who
That I am
And the coming
To being more
As the belly
Of my soul                                                   
Craves 
In hunger 
For divine
Wisdom
And guidance
Poured from
God’s overflowing
Cistern spilling
Out onto 
The dry sponge 
Of my soul
Awaiting hydration
Of awareness
And inspiration
To be likewise 
Squeezed out
Onto other 
Dehydrated sponges
Of spiritual souls 
Needing
Flowing prose
And wetting rhymes
Saturating healing grace
During all needed times:

Grief and despair
We’re not to harbor
For to do so
Is to jam-jar horror
Always remember
On the way
We go
Spiritually bound sailors 
Sailing waves
To the shores of life
Frothing away failed
Behaviors
So in keloid memory
Of this little prose
Flowing rhyme
From me
In every moment of 
A trying time
Keep this little flow
In mind 
And enjoy from
The Cistern above
Healing peace and love:-

The Smut - Mar 25,26

I sense here some things sinister—a scent
of sulphur, sulking in a sultry pit;
a serpent’s hiss, expressed from space unlit; 
a warm spell spilling from some seething vent;

I find now some things filthy—foul ferment
foaming, frothing; a gaseous, gurgling slit
discharging fetid, festering, sour spit; 
malignant mold in cold, cracking cement;

So languid, loath, obtuse I trepidate
on into the black bowels of my home.
Gagging back a nausea’s tepid bubble,
shivering a shudder that won’t abate,
discover I a gory catacomb.—
Woah… I see well now how bad my trouble!

IN SPIRITUAL MOISTURIZING

Be not like fall leaves,
Dehydrated and in dry dirt;
Be as frothing waves…

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