Long Pelicans Poems
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IT SEEMS NATURE HAD OTHER PLANS
Our plan was to take a morning walk along the beach..as plans go it was a simple one…and once we arrived we headed south and east…toward the rising sun.
But a short time after arriving we soon became aware of what can only be described as an odiferous odor…wafting through the air.
We thought it might be red tide so…and since we hand’t walked too far…
dejectedly we turned around for the walk back to our car.
But then…for reasons we’ll never know…we felt almost immediately blessed…
because the odor quickly dissipated as we walked to the north and west.
We’ve walked this beach for many years…we didn’t think it held surprises anymore…but that morning we were treated to wonders we hadn’t seen or heard before.
The high tide had come and gone…we could see how far up the shore she reached…but what truly took us by surprise was, in her wake, what she left painted on the beach
Sea urchins, crabs, a sand dollar…a starfish…we wondered how can this be?
Shells in a multitude of shapes and colors as far as our eyes could see.
And we were not the only ones enjoying the tides early morning surprise…
there were snails, clams, oysters and crabs trying new shells on for size.
And if we weren’t feeling blessed enough seeing the sights as the ocean ebbed and flowed…out in water dolphins…pods of dolphins…began putting on a show.
They were swimming, jumping partying all the time while being fed…
They even had time to smile at the pelicans skimming above their heads.
Here’s an interesting fact…that might seem a little odd…
but a group of pelicans and a group of dolphins…they’re both called a pod.
Yes, walking to the north and west we were treated to a host of new and different sights and sounds….
And we realized if we wanted to catch the sunrise…all we had to do was turn around.
Our plan was to walk in the direction we alway walked…along the beach in the early morning that day…
But often we have found…the treasures that abound…when we let nature lead the way.
Unknown...like he never existed,
unseen by others as the truest friend;
a modest poet clinging to his own breath,
never panting,never fretting to reach the top...
trying to keep his courage up
with the illusion of fame!
Killing his time by the sizzling shore,
where someone lay down before...
to write verses in the hot sand,
fearing that the unkind wind
would wipe them off in a minute;
passersbys stop and stare
with admiration in their curious glare!
Dark clouds over his glorious dreams
have invaded his discontent soul with illusion,
where his obscure thoughts
reject his ambition so stagnant;
if pelicans,eagles and seagulls
soar over the azure oceons
with zest,freedom and grit...
to find what they need for their survival,
why is he so miserable and hopeless...
trapped by an induced loneliness?...
But only his wretched heart and mind
know his enduring pain!
Unread,forsaken and rediculed
for his open honesty,
filling the void with his trembling pen;
his unforeseen,big day may come
when his tired hand can't write
anymore on the smooth sands' dunes...
desperately calling on
the only trustworthy friend,
whose comfort is needed
more than the reality
of the dark clouds
over his glorious dreams!
The wondrous sea captivates my soul
as I sit beneath the malingering palms
I can close my eyes
and dine on imaginations from its offered sounds
I can listen quietly to the soft throb of the waves
as they rush to shore
changing from dark blue to light blue to white
before vanishing in the sands of the shore
along a red thin line on the horizon
a sailboat slowly moves
the sails are pushed by the wind toward the sunset
pelicans glide in the distance
between voluminous clouds of white and gray
then fall like spears into the sea
seagulls arrive like thieves to steal fish
their squeaky sound belies the struggle for life
between the hunter and the hunted
the scent of salt air fills my attention
with every breath I take
I look out at the sea's great expanse
and have a sense of smallness
filled with wonder
the power of all this I feel deeply
my soul touches time and space
in a union of serenity
from the sea's immeasurable beauty
4/7/23 Writing Challenge "S" Words
sponsor Constance La France
"SEA"
What brought me to this sullen shore...
is not sheer curiousity at all,
but an equivocal question too hard to be answered
even by those whose minds are so cultured!
Pelicans swarm the February's frigid sky over the bay...
like clumsy butterflies greeting a spring's day;
it's past sunrise, and all clouds catch on fire,
fleeting to the western sky to avoid the infernal dire!
I take a brisk walk adventuring in the gelid wind's blows...
as the agitated waves indicate an imminent storm;
unafraid , I lean over the fortress's stones with hands so cold,
to feel the vengefulness of a sea frightening all humans!
It's Saturday mid-morning, I hear a shrill filled with emotion,
and a shivering pelican comes close to where I stand;
he doesn't want the crumbs in my generous hand,
but understanding and much more compassion!
If he could talk and tell of his plight so unspeakable...
I'd listen and make a promise for his survival...
where once limpid waters rolled so brightly,
painted in gold by the solar glow, now they look too murky!
Does he feel great animosity toward us...
we, who build and destroy, kill and terrorize?
And what made him turn to me so fearlessly;
and will we, rulers of this earth, show hiim some mercy?
after the dance we opened the doors
dampness surrounded this place maroon drapes
paisley patterns blinded my emotions license plates
of james dean covered the pine paneling only in the back
funny how a pair of levi's could bring about
such lonliness but there was james standing there
leaning up against his motorcycle flickering that cigarette
i had dreamed of life away from a smoked filled room
however i was being forced fed macho manner
by mere bruts tyrants wearing tightly fitted pinky rings
shuffling their feet quickly my only thought was that of
the stingrays sharp shooters how their eyes are morbidly
unseen right before they strike their prey i wouldn't even
speak of away from tropical shirts and the pelicans beak
an yet after the dance we had entered this think tank
of sea urchants mere leaches all reaching for small time
scores the same old crabs in the same old bucket
one by one pulling the one closet to the top back down
to scurry sideways with the bottom feeders night crawlers
here i am again your place their place our place i wondered
if they noticed me at all or was i just a cold curvy bottle
of coke a cola to be placed on a red and white canvas
in front of knitted covered candles or was i just a manikin
leaning against that timeless old seeburg continuing to drag
the needle slowly across the nylon fibers of my favorite record
over and over again like filing my broken nail or fussing over
another run in my stocking who needs stocking why i was simply
this forgotten mermaid among a school of green eyed hungry sharks
but then there was james a mere mirage gazing down route 66 in land
catering to the backside of those levi's oh wait here he comes again
he's going to ask me to dance what will i say oh my feet hurt or just
say no shoes tonight shall we swim out of here my mind tossed to and froe
i just couldn't bare to waste a perfectly good pair of fins don't you know
I'm often asked by friends afar
What was that bright and shining star
That led me to this place of joy
To truly savor this, my rather special toy.
Was it the palm trees swaying in the breeze,
The cheeky Pelicans skimming waves with ease,
Florida's sun beaming brightly morn to dusk,
No need of taking weather Gods to task.
Miles of sand flanking the beach side road,
Reflections of my sportscar sleek and broad,
Cutting the air with startling grace
A glorious rumble heralding its pace.
Heads turning then blinded by the sheen,
A glimpse of Its lustrous body powerful and lean,
What better way to pass a perfect day
So far from all that usual fray.
Harmony and peace can come in many forms,
No need to heed convention, stated norms,
This passion shared by us the few,
Underneath that sky of blinding blue.
The sing-song chatter of small birds
frame a window of light.
My kettle is coughing; soon its shrill whistle
will startle me, even though I know exactly
when it will erupt.
Bears have been sighted in Ohio.
Elsewhere, the plague has been seen
crossing rivers on a jet ski.
The birds sing something from ‘The Magic Flute.’
or Bohemian Rhapsody – hard to tell.
Far from my kitchen
tunes bring tears to the eyes
of truckers and nurses.
I imagine pelicans hitching a ride to Patagonia.
A homeless family have reported blue skies
in Kentucky, somehow, that’s news.
Death rattles, all things pass away singing
a tune inside their heads.
We love walking along the beach in the morning…
as another day unfolds…
as the sun slides across the land
turning dark sand into gold.
It’s a special time of day…gazing out at the ocean deep…
watching nature awaken form her nocturnal sleep
We’re early enough so ours
are the first human footprints left upon the shore…
but not as early as the birds…
who have left their footprints here before.
We love the feeling of two people walking as one
enjoying moments without words…
where the silence is broken only
by the crashing waves and the singing of the birds.
On our latest morning walk along the shore
we came across something we’ve never seen
in all our walks along this beach before….
As we slowly made our way…
between the ocean and the dunes…
in front of us…illuminated by the sun were round jellyfish
that get their name from their resemblance to the moon.
So, to the dolphins, pelicans, sea gull and egrets we always see
this morning we welcomed the moon jellyfish into our memory.
A walk together along the beach is always beautiful…
as the day begins to break…
because not only does it change every time we visit….
but with every step we take…..
Reminding us when it comes to surprises and wonders …
nature does not lack…
And it is precisely these ever-changing surprises and wonders…
courtesy of nature……that keeps us coming back.
The bones of a forest are stripped clean by the ocean and strewn on her shores. The sun-bleached wooden cemetery leaves a somber impression on the morning scavenger of shells, who meanders in the gray mist of a fall morning dawn. He is lulled by the hush of the fog and the rolling waves that break on a gravel strand. With a head bowed down and hands crossed behind him... he searches... searches for opalescent treasures... like answers to life's questions. Is this how it all started, or is there some grander purpose? Then a gull caws as if an angel calls the seeker's attention. And as he looks up his sight receives a message delivered by two brown pelicans sailing along a cresting wave. This was here before you... and it will continue when you are gone. But now... you are mine... and we are one... divine.
by Martin Braun
6:30 a.m. September 20th, 2023
Jenner, California
To my oceanic compatriots. They put our love under a glass dome, posted deterrent signs on the paths we created 35 years ago, and sealed off the oceans. If they heard my, your, stories, they would run the environmental Bolsheviks into the sea like the demon-possessed pigs that they are. These self-righteous propagandists closed Drakes Oyster farm with lies, and they, like gulag interrogators of 1936, threw us into a sort of prison within the spaces of our minds, torturing us by excluding us from "the motherland's environment", and created an unimaginable wasteland with the walls they built by a lust for power. We are of this world... it is they who are aliens. Let us enjoy what God made. We created the protections with our respect and love for the environment. The environmentalists simply make laws, criminals, and prisoners.
They crest the white foam in perfect formation,
With purpose and strength they flap as they glide,
Fixated ahead in assured navigation,
Each trailing the other with nowhere to hide.
Then all of a sudden with no clear command,
They veer on some path and head for the sky,
Soaring the waves like a mischievous band,
Riding the thermals with a predatory eye.
No longer a pod but single torpedoes,
Spotting their quarry they launch with intent,
Diving at speed like rapacious mosquitoes,
To feast on that glimmering shoal now hell bent.
Again and again they dive to then surface,
Their sacks full of loot hidden from sight.
Transfixing, majestic, nature's true circus,
The curtain then falling as they once more take flight.
Florida's Pelicans, a marvelous sight,
Gregarious and cheeky with us so entwined,
Once hunted and culled as merely a blight,
Now in our hearts so fully enshrined.