Most fish swam downstream, chasing the promise of the ocean.
Some, afraid of its depth, turned upstream until their strength gave out.
One fish, weary of both current and fear, flung itself onto land.
The others pitied it, certain it would die.
But in time, the fish grew legs.
It breathed the air.
And while the others mocked, it walked on.
I almost hear voices.
Sometimes.
It feels like a camera is there.
Humming, strumming, getting warped.
I almost talked back to them.
The whoosh, but no splashing.
No evidence, not even in myself.
So maybe I’m delusional as the browning of an apple core.
Sometimes, I almost certainly hear voices.
Staked right outside my room.
Which I could bring to my lips like burning lip gloss if I cared to.
A trap door could be there.
I like hearing voices.
Mostly, it’s just the “ahhh” sound.
The start and collapse of a howl.
Resides close.
I almost, sometimes hear voices sneaking closer.
Like a fish jumping onto land then into my second story window.
I’m grateful.
Maybe they are too.
mermaid messes around with her magic hand
Spurts and sparks fly out across the water onto land.
I would not do that if I were you, a wise man says.
The next thing she knows she’s in a fishbowl with Inez.
Inez is miffed, her bowl is too full with this maid.
You need to go! You give me too much shade!
Mermaid whips her hand around in the air
And finds herself now in a grizzly bear’s lair.
I cannot get it right, she laments to the night.
You are okay, says the bear, you are all right.
But her fear is strong, her arm gives a shake.
She ends up in the middle of spirit lake.
The palm tree bends in the wind at the sea
with smooth, beautiful, flexibility
A splash of salt water hits the sand
Rolling with sea shells onto land
Surprises to find in a special search
beneath wooden posts where seagulls perch
Watching what gems will be found left behind
By the moving sea, showing how to be kind
Heidi Sands
6/11/23
Our blue planet, the epitome of primal beauty,
a unique dot of singularity in celestial infinity,
revolved in astral space spinning nature’s splendors,
until on evolution trail hostile species of man arrived.
The creeping swarm of greed called progress
devours the green blanket thriving for ages,
constructs the toxic greenhouse on the planet instead,
extreme climate events trace global warming trajectory.
Glaciers and ice sheets melt at alarming rate,
rise of sea-level is unparallel in human history,
makes ingress of oceans onto land a future reality,
time would come to create the modern Noah’s ark.
The pristine nature was in realm of grandeur
in harmony with its stable innate equilibrium,
the stride of wanton exploitation marches on and on,
if unheeded, it’ll soon cross the sustainability rubicon.
October 13, 2021
Title chosen : Rubicon Crossing
Contest : Pick-A-Title, Vol 26
Sponsor : Edward Ibeh
Grand Howl for the Sea
Oh I howl!
Longing to be free…
But I remain, landlocked to a people
Growling and hissing you must face your responsibilities!
Indebted to a society into which my debts never seem to end.
I long to be a Man-child, Hidden from Society
Gaining the Wisdom of the Jungle with child-like glee!
Mowgli of the impenetrable Jungle, lost but found himself within.
Learning how to survive from nature herself
When one is accepted as Kin
Sown into a land-lubbing society
Into which one must work and can never seemingly be free
Forever tied to the land and continuing responsibilities...
Oh how I long to gain the Wisdom of the Seas
Constantly changing as it was free to express Emotions!
Without the Constraints of a [Rigid Society]
Thrusting itself onto land whispering…
Come away with me-
Gain the Wisdom of the Seas!
Float on your sea vessel
Akela, the lone wolf of the sea
I will show you the wonders of the world---
If only one would dare to come drift away with me….
Grand Howl for the Sea
Oh I howl!
Longing to be free…
But I remain, landlocked to a people
Growling and hissing you must face your responsibilities!
Indebted to a society into which my debts never seem to end.
I long to be a Man-child, Hidden from Society
Gaining the Wisdom of the Jungle with child-like glee!
Mowgli of the impenetrable Jungle, lost but found himself within.
Learning how to survive from nature herself
When one is accepted as Kin
Sown into a land-lubbing society
Into which one must work and can never seemingly be free
Forever tied to the land and continuing responsibilities...
Oh how I long to gain the Wisdom of the Seas
Constantly changing as it was free to express Emotions!
Without the Constraints of a [Rigid Society]
Thrusting itself onto land whispering…
Come away with me-
Gain the Wisdom of the Seas!
Float on your sea vessel
Akela, the lone wolf of the sea
I will show you the wonders of the world---
If only one would dare to come drift away with me….
On our phones, a piercing screech
Is sending an alert,
To keep us all protected
So nobody will get hurt.
A flash flood may be coming!
In addition to some showers,
Streams may overflow their banks
Within the coming hours.
The thunder rumbles, skies grow dark
Yet calm’s the way I seem
For my apartment’s nowhere near
What I would call a stream.
The river’s just a block away
But mostly it refrains
From spilling over onto land
Despite some heavy rains.
For some that jarring warning
Is as welcome as can be
Though I think it’s pretty obvious
That group includes – not me!
Pick is conflicted by self-ness
She rarely ponders or introspects but it is a weird evening
Pan, her cousin, would never understand, so she will not bother.
She stands at the edge of the swamp,
Was she coming or going?
It is important as water by day is her refuge
Where she is murky, muddled, and angry
Dragging things down, she revels at
their drownings.
She has a quota, and she is not afraid to fill it.
Six kills daily, or she will not get to be her night-self.
Her night-self is what Pick lives for; she loves being good.
Goodness comes forth when she steps onto land;
Good by night, bad by day.
It is her curse,
She can share with no one.
She hesitates at the bank.
Is it dusk or is it daylight?
She has lost track of herself,
and it really does matter...
IF ever I had a country: XI - XII
IF ever I had a country
And if ever I were but the Admiral of the Fleet
I'd issue an edict to keep ships out of foreign waters
I'd order all on deck on or off duty curse-under-breath sailors
To fish out of oceans crushed cans and twisted plastic bottles
And whatever else poisons sardines dolphins sharks and whales
…………………………………
…………………………………
………………………………..
………………………………..
I'd see to it that all our ancestors of the primal soup deep
Were brought onto land with all their shredded creep
And to the tune of the Divine Land's Anthem make all weep
In solemn burial ceremonies commit such memories to keep
That is, if ever I were but the Admiral of the Fleet
And even if I never ever had no country
© T. Wignesan - Paris, June 28, 2018
Rain
Gentle rain.
Softly falling,
Playfully splashing,
Tumbling down.
Raindrops racing
Down a window pane.
Pitter patter.
Pitter patter.
Pitter patter.
Cool.
Clear.
Refreshing,
Replenishing.
Quenching the earth’s thirst,
Filling her rivers and reservoirs,
Making green again her pleasant land.
Rain.
Cruel rain.
Lash-ing
With it’s
FURY.
Thrashing.
Crashing.
Pouring,
Pouring,
Pouring.
Forcing
Down
Earth’s
Throat.
Choking,
Till her rivers
Spew out onto land
In floods
Of
CHAOS
DEVASTATION
And
DEATH.
Coco the clown went sailing one day
to a holiday destination far far away
Suddenly, the sky went dark and the wind did blow
and the waves beneath his boat did grow and grow
Coco lost his oars as the winds blew and blew
and he paddled his way with a size 50 shoe
Through his telescope he saw an island far away in the distance
and he made it to shore with his skill and persistence
A group of locals met him as he sailed onto land
with necklace of bones and spears in hands
They carried off Coco to a waiting stock pot
with vegetables and seasoning and water boiling hot
Poor Coco the clown was simmered to perfection
they shared out the meat after careful dissection
They sat down to dine and after having a chew
one said to the other “does this clown taste funny to you?”
Freedom Ship
There is a ship floating in the harbor
It has a long history behind it
Hauling hundreds of starving people
Men, women and children
Loaded in the ship’s belly
Fleeing from torture and death
They cried and mourned for those left behind
Thinking about how their loved ones must live
But this ship had a long tradition
When they brought its passengers to land
The Captain would turn on every light
To let freedom know those people were coming
And to give everyone the hope they never knew
And that hope grew as they stepped onto land
That special would not wait
It left again immediately, with its lights out
Looking for more people who need to be saved
The wind howls, breaking branches all about with cracks
Roaring like a racing train down the long metal tracks.
The wind blows lightly gliding a paper boat floating by
So quickly noticed, then gone with the blink of an eye.
The wind whistles in the grass, blowing the drifting sand
At a beach with waves crashing white wild curls onto land
One after another…
The wind upon my face, releases tension into the air around
Where kites are flying above the park with a flapping sound.
At the end of the day…
- It stops -
A calm evening settles quiet, as the silence tells a story, to be.
It began with the wind tossing images all around to see.
From the water to land, from the sky to the sea, it seems
Pictures ease the mind to sleep, falling into wind-blown dreams.
Heidi Sands
3/30/17
Pink cotton candy striated clouds
Intermingle with blue
Lure the artist to observe painting
Upon a canvas true
Distant doves sing a summer song
Happy to raise a large brood
Soon they'll be independent
Seeking out their own food
Life goes in circles, birds nesting
In places they were born
Some families never leaving
Hold onto land plant corn
The sun never failing man
Rises each day to warm
Today it rises fire ball red
Warning of impending storm
The canvas is painted a little
Different each day
No two exactly alike
For the earth doesn't stay
The earth's rotation brings change
Near and far to the sun
Slowly changing positions
Keeping life, having fun
Now the sun is golden glowing
Just above the tree tops
Its heat will be scorching too soon
Destroying unwatered crops
Just a few minutes out on the porch
Time for spirit renewal
How it prepares my inner needs
Helps my spirit fights duels
Written: Tuesday, July 28, 2015
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