Fabricated coast, they arranged a brigade
Aggregated to oppose, braving the waves
Saturated stones, awaiting decay
Exaggerated to juxtapose,
The real contained by the fake.
Professing control, they replaced the coast
Repressing the flow, sustained only to erode
Acquiescing the blows, an unstable repose
Depressing the both, the wave and the stone.
Ten mile peninsula in Queens, N.Y.,
nighttime jetties of moonlight white caps,
waves rising and ebbing.
My grandfather walking with me on the
daylight shore so many summers ago.
My dreams of Rockaway unfaded.
Watched the WTC twin towers being built
through binoculars.
Rockaway, in my soul's nostalgia
you still beckon.
Salted lips quenched by Coca-Cola.
The youth within me can still hear
the seagulls calling in the breeze,
and still see the amusement park
under 4th of July fireworks.
Dada, I miss you and Rockaway.
Not by her eyes did I stop in my tracks
Though they spoke as Celtic forest rings
And glittered as a wyvern's hold.
Not by her voice soft,
Sweet as a siren entrapping my soul
Resonate as Christmas bells carried by
A valley crystalline in new snow.
Neither her touch, which infuses my weary flesh
Tonic of revival and haven of hearth.
Delicious like peppermint cider
Warming me from within.
Not by any, but by all these
Her being more than jetties to break the waves
More than trees that soften the squall
More than a harbor for my soul
Yea, he writhe in pleasure, peace, and home
Hiraeth.
The waves on the beach are
Gulping, slurping and chewing
At the sandy shoreline.
The ocean is voracious.
Inch by inch, foot by foot
It eats away our carefully mapped
Continents and islands,
Devouring great bites of
Seaside dunes and cliffs,
Reshaping the land in one place
Spitting out the sand in others
To fortify an island, to add
Wider and wider shores to a land
A thousand miles away.
We build seawalls and jetties,
We add revetments of stone,
But we cannot contain the sea,
Whose force can break
Great ships asunder.
From the sea rose the land,
And over millenniums, to the sea
It will finally return.
And we mortals, whose birthplace
Was the great salt ocean will
Also return from whence we came.
Will the sea itself then disappear
And all return to fiery solar dust?
Trees laid vertical on their sides uprooted
Jetties once planted in their depths departed
Tides moved rocks from their sockets sound
Some flew away as if insulted by the storm
Over vast tracks of time long forgotten
Beaches held on to land with all their sand
For almost seconds if you count tomorrow
Waves as high as mountains came
Upon the morning all had disappeared
There were no more city streets
By flood o’clock all had stopped
By 6:00 am all was gone
Crowds, houses, children in their sleep
No wonder why the mail was late
All moved on in that split second
In that instance called Hurricane Eight
the swashing
the evening we were declared
WORLD’S HOTTEST CAPITAL
sarah & i seek relief via a cool walk
between jetties — where an impromptu
marine superhighway has formed
— a never ending people procession
2 & 3 abreast wander the swashing —
magical median between sand & sea
— adults stroll — kids splash — dogs chase
the waves which suck our toes — pulling us
toenail by bunion — into pulsing blood
— heat particles extracted & dissolved
into shadow — salt replaced by crystals
of coolth — a strange osmosis — sighs
meanwhile a girl in white glides across
glass slowswift & graceful soon fading
in the gloaming as if she’s a ship
sails full of wind the rest of us
cannot catch
I watched
As the waves sounded heavily
Against the old worn jetties
Hammering at the wall of stone
That rose up from the beach
Before fading away
And once again
Racing back out to sea
High up
In a clouded blue sky
Seagulls danced in acrobatic flight
Tapping each others wings
When they flew by
As if to say
Nice seeing you again!
Above the billowing clouds
That seemed to reach up forever
Sat a bright yellow sun
In a cold sky of gusting winds
Though try as it might
Could not find a way
To warm land nor sea or me
So I watched
As the waves pounded on
Rolling up the beach
Until they touched the tips
Of the old pair of shoes I wore
While I waited for you
The same way I did yesterday
And the day before
And the day before that
For what seemed like forever
Always hoping I was wrong
But always knowing… nonetheless
That you
Were never
Coming home
alone now
I roam through memories
recalling treasures of the past
journeying back to seaside treks with my husband
riding to the city to see Broadway shows
reliving nights of romance
even visiting John’s grave
in the best of times
memories carry me to ocean jetties
where vows of love were exchanged
as waves lapped gently against rocks
if only we could feel these sensations again
family outings at the beach
building sandcastles
burying Dad’s feet in sand
sauntering along the festive boardwalk
hiking through woodlands with friends who have passed
wanting to hug them again
feeling the weight of concrete
preventing my spirit from moving on
as I reach out to heaven
seeking a sign
praying for guidance
hoping past joy will be restored
confined by sadness
I roam through memories
alone now
For Drake’s “I Roam” contest
4/23/11
Aye and it’d be “Land Ho”, ya lazy landlubbers!
It’s where ya’d be if ya’d had yer druthers,
Braggin’ the seven seas and swiggin’ pints of ale,
Chasin’ maidens and wishin’ on a mermaid tail!
Look sharp! Turn to! heave ho! All hands on deck,
Er I’ll have hemp stretchin’ round yer neck!
Thars work at be done afore ya see yer lovely Bettys,
Grab rudder afore ya run er up on the the jetties!
This old ship is mine from crow’s nest ta keel,
Heave to er you’ll be beggin yer next meal!
Swing the yardarm, rig the jibs, look lively, set sail!
Follow the south end a that north bound whale!
Put on yer sea legs and hand me the long glass
We be after silver mateys! Copper and brass!
Yu'd rob the gems off the pearly gates!
BILLOW THE SAILS, MATES!!
Still waters rage from the depths of hell.
The fiery furnaces’ forces propel.
No longer shall earth see speedwell or bluebell.
The cleansing fire has begun its deadly smell.
God’s created earth now feels its decadence.
Evil “ate” souls because men remained entranced.
Loosing self-restraint forced choosing right askance.
Strength and righteousness have lost their stance.
Azure dreams heap memories upon the seas.
White foam salts man’s wounds; usurped powers seize.
Disguised deceit winks on submerged marquees.
Lost freedom divides, crashes, burning jetties.
Unsuspecting factions can barely believe
How quickly schemes conceived deceive faith…naïve.
Smokey clouds hover as righteous ways leave.
The eye of God watches the faithless bereave.
Prophecies and signs help the faithful endure.
The earth rips asunder from places obscure.
The cleansing fire shall a paradise procure.
Freed by God’s begotten son, our Savior.
Written for Paula Swanson’s Contest – Blind Faith
© Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen
May 22, 2010
Poetic form: Quatrain
Hidden in musty dusty folds of ragged thoughts I've sought to hide
Unbidden and driven by emotions chained in dungeons deep and wide
Bursting free from no sensation breaking into concentration
They fly and burst asunder as they thunder on the jetties of my mind
Cacophonic colored chatter caught in chaos shed to scatter
Like the ashes of a warrior how could it really matter
What’s first wrung from hidden childhood fears
May not sound as jarring after lo these many years
But the trains of thought I ride carry weight to hold aside
As they clatter through the stations un expressed
Rattled reasons Battered seasons misled missions
Deliberate decisions carom through silly severed sessions
As I contemplate concessions to a tired weary mind
Another cup of coffee couldn’t hurt
Tide slurps wet kisses on weed slimed stone jetties
The wind slaps sandy fine grit into salt dried eyelids
And the sun shines on
Gulls scream challenge as clams dig spurtingly deeper
Shells roll and tumble wave dancing on flowing sand
And the sun shines on
A white line jet outruns its trailing breakdown
As a crab scuttles sideways into sheltered shade
And the sun shines on
And the waves have no end
Echoes of moon tugs on wind oceans
Racing to catch and match
The spin of gravitational fire
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