There were some mysterious maps
I found lying down unfolded on the deck
of an ancient secluded mailboat
in the middle of the shallow water banks
As I took a glance at these maps
I was unable to find my way home
I saw no traces of any islands, cays,
blueholes, pristine seashores,
pineyards, coppice forests
banana holes nor mangroves insight
to plot on these unusual slice of poster papers
as they were all distant memories
which faded from the surface of the Earth
all I saw was nothing but blank maps
crammed with endless layers
of oceans, banks, bights and sounds
without any given names charted on every end
as if my homeland was evaporated away
into the depths of the Bermuda Triangle
Snow
frosting
woodlands white;
sun beating down
on barren landscapes;
the floating solitude -
of being immersed in space
or in the depths of an ocean
that resonates muffled quietude.
How fickle is a world in which we
can experience elsewhere the
tumultuousness of storms
pelting crops or thrashing
seashores, and the mad
roar of dragons
in forests
spitting
Fire
I loved jumping waves on our
family vacations to
random seashores in my youth.
Once in my early childhood,
it was sunny as we drove;
then when we got to the beach . . .
clouds collected; the sky wept.
Welcome to my anti-country
It’s right here, before your eyes
Let me warn you at the entry
It’s not quite a paradise
Doesn’t matter where you came from
I won’t judge you by ID
You don’t fill some fiddly form
The admission’s visa free
Here’s some music for your pleasure
And some other music too
Maybe you will find a treasure
That I’m keeping here for you
See the pictures on the walls
Mostly English countryside
Rural mansions with big halls
Gardens, seashores at low tide
Sayings of the wise, though not
Utter wise by current standards
There are paintings, quite a lot
Paintings section is expanded
There are very special places
Tables under shady trees
Lots of roses, and some pansies
And forget-me-nots you’ll see
If you’d like to pay a visit
I am happy to inform
You are safe each time you’re in it
Anti-country is my home.
I am ready to be the dawn
for the woman God created for me.
At daybreak, I'll caress her face,
awakening her with my rays.
At twilight, I'll share her silence,
as the moon replaces the sun.
She will stroll the seashores with me
and watch the beach birds march in sync,
as waves of tranquility waltz
underneath ebony moonlit skies.
I will dance barefoot in the sand
to the rhythm of our heartbeats.
Shelter and rainbows, I'll bestow
after her clouds have traveled home.
On days when summer drapes the earth,
I will arrange picnics for two,
near an oak tree catering shade,
and surrender my thoughts to her.
Fond memories for photographs
to rest in seashell laden frames,
I will capture and build with her,
while aging finely each other's arms.
I will give her the time and space
to blossom as God intended.
Even if it takes many years,
patiently, I'll wait for my heartmate,
the future eagle of my sky.
Until she soars within my view,
I'll fly with my eternal love,
I shall fully be, the man who resides in me.
I lie myself down in silence and close my eyes.
Imagine I'm flying high in majesties skies
Over open seashores as sounds of waves rise.
Embracing the breast and scent of land
With the nascent sun towards inland,
Sunflowers, butterflies around grassland.
Enjoying the sunshine melting into my dream
As umber twigs reach upward into space of cream.
Nature's music beams among earths pigment scheme.
Motionless in peace, tranquility, and clear mind.
Spellbinding simplicity, strife left behind.
My life spiritual fantasy world defined.
1/16/2024
I see peace in the bright blue skies, in the paddocks green
In the warble from the magpies tounge in the breath of
God I come undone, in the pouring rain there are melodies
To heal hearts and fill the soul of me, I take strength from
Others of the human race' i note the joy we can embrace!
I see gold in the seashores sand; in sunbursts on rooiftops
Its vast and grand..From Kempsey down to Wangaratta
I listen to traffic on the m25 and yearn to be far from
Londons tide.' To return once more to penong and look
Over the plains, toward Perth or maybe i'd jump the train?
Take the Indy ride.. back to the Eastern States, buy some tinnies
And conjugate.? Eat Barrumundi maybe redfinToo? I'm game.'
Now I'm worn and battered.. I need home again..I need the
Drive of the Aussie folk, the strength of un-assuming women and blokes, And I know I'd slip right in..Like wool off the woolshed table
I'd be right into the bin.'
As a pebble from a rough rock, my existence began.
Did I, devoid of destiny, have a peculiar plan?
I was caught between the caves of waves and tricky boulders.
The sun over the seashores was not less than a smoulder.
Haphazardly, with nothing of my gleeful goal, I flowed
Amidst coarseness, a ray of refulgence from within glowed.
Hazardous hardships of grinding and gravelling I bore
Priceless perfection, yet, passionately possessed my core
Twisted, turned, and tossed, my hard edges got softened and smoothed.
Indeed, there were moments too, when, by sea waves, I got soothed.
I am strong now. I'm bright and shining like a sparkling gem.
Shreds of sun and moon hide between the bold folds of my hem.
How I am joyous when I am in a child's tender hold!
How grimness grills my heart when, by a merchant, I am sold!
Ups and downs are parts of process my existence, I know.
This is why I don't fear when in streams like a leaf I flow.
I am humble even when I look tall, fat, high, or wide.
In the process of my becoming, I have lost my pride.
As every being or nonbeing, I too might be gone.
Isn't life a bon voyage from the known to the unknown?
I'm an estuary of ivy-furs,
sleeping in monsoonal moonglades of love~
as the savannah sun of sunset blurs,
slowly unveiling stars with golden glove.
When russet- fairies twirl in a bronze lake,
singing with springs of watermelon wand,
an untouched summer unfurls behind ache,
lacing twilights with lush wishes, so fond.
Garden of grapefruit, doesn't forbid faith,
exotic eyes paint life with a rare art,
where hilly hues drape seashores ~ daisy-bathe,
my muse weaves magic on the 'bay of heart'.
Raven seas,
spellcast waves,
~ singing hate
Revengeful tides,
strum the seashores
with soft cracklings,
bleeding kohl ice.
Smoked sienna soul ~
a cacophony,
from vintage gold-vaults,
shimmering with sighs,
a saga unheard.
I sketch musky infernos with kohl ink
when dead wings of flurry moon lace my
copper blue lashes and ripples
of faith crash furthest seashores,
Draping stelliform-soul
in strokes of starlight
which drizzle as
lemon drops
upon
pink
sheet-
canvas,
So when red
letters twirl like
blood stained cranberries,
rose-gold amulets will
always save the salted flesh
of sun and wildflowers shall shine
as magenta peony-bows in
maroon hair-strings, forever breathing dreams.
From where the misery departs into a majestic ocean.
Not in this cosmos but someday in any of the universes, I will be yours.
From where the eternity starts and mixes with reality.
Not in the eccentric sunset but in the calm seashores.
Called the Agony Slayer, he arrived as your incarnation.
Said, "I will be yours and we will be there."
Didn't know the spells of actuality are this much powerful.
Not in this universe but I can look for a wormhole.
Who knows? I.
Let us dive in the pool of perpetuity.
And never come back until the ultimate rescuers come.
The Agony Slayer bowed down but he must pray.
Said, "Thousands of Empires fall and establish everyday."
From where the misery departs into a majestic ocean.
Not in this cosmos but someday in any of the universes, I will be yours.
From where the eternity starts and mixes with reality.
Not in the eccentric sunset but in the calm seashores.
Called the Agony Slayer, he arrived as your incarnation.
Said, "I will be yours and we will be there."
Didn't know the spells of actuality are this much powerful.
Not in this universe but I can look for a wormhole.
Who knows? I.
Let us dive in the pool of perpetuity.
And never come back until the ultimate rescuers come.
The Agony Slayer bowed down but he must pray.
Said, "Thousands of Empires fall and establish everyday."
Barefoot in the sand I walk the seashore, carefree
taking mental snapshots of you and me;
Living in the sanctuary of your natural agility
I am a womb in you, both beautiful and free.
When you pour me out my soul refreshes,
some say you are water but I say you are life.
Recaptured, I regain my sanity and dignity
and for this, I thank you water;
The seashores are quenched by your ebb and flow
and your eternal movements, are my Saving Grace;
You are self sufficient and unanimously rhythmed
and in your cadence even the mermaids rejoice,
as they dip their tails and siren your decree.
Oh sea, you are just a kiss away from me,
when I'm in your presence nothing in this world
matters, anymore.
Breezes blowing through her auburn hair
Reminded me of seashores in faraway places,
Those times we lounged in an afternoon lair
In the most God-forsaken primitive spaces,
The best times of our life together, I swear.
Written October 9, 2022
[dedicated to Deborah]
Submitted to "Bite Size No. 53" Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Line Gauthier
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