I walk along the slippery shore.
of the shingled beach
that welcomes the inland sea.
The sun rises slowly in the east,
lighting my way amongst
the small rocks and drying seaweeds.
There is a lift inside me
that nurture enthusiasm.
Peace and quiet reign around
disturbed occasionally by the barks
of sprightly dogs that race upon the sand,
the squawks of gulls gliding gluttonously
swooping down for their repast.
I look with sympathy on other walkers
on the beach. Thus, I meditate,
a marvellously therapeutic exercise.
Who am I, Lord, to deserve all this?
The quiet meditation calms my mind.
lowers my blood pressure,
a spiritually potent release.
My mind is tranquil,
I know who I am,
my soul is happy.
“The sea casts a magic spell with the ever- rising breakers and the melody, the clanking of waves produce. It amazes us with the wonders hiding within its caverns. Without drawing any boundary or barrier, it rushes
to touch or submerge everything on its way”--- Quote by the Poet.
What engrossing feel overpowers me,
As I loiter along the sandy strands of the sea.
Waves whisper their goodbye as they recede back,
Girdling the shore with a garland of foamy blooms.
A zephyr comes tickling and tangling my hair
Seaweeds sway back and forth as waters shoot up.
Beneath the sand, when wavelets on my ankles kiss,
Like a child, I long to jump into the wobbling mass.
I let the water braid my hands, to savor its coolness.
Though I don’t like its chaotic depths and crashing tides,
In the music of waves, I enjoy a moment of unalloyed joy.
The sea is indeed a sanctuary of never- ending epiphanies.
As I gaze upon the splendor of the beach:
yellow, soft and resplendent and compliant.
I realize that it is a debris field of bones.
Of shattered shells devoid of sound-of-sea-echoes.
Of bit of crabs, seaweeds and bones of fishes ground to dust,
all gathered into an amorphous tell-tale pile.
It's congealed when wet, soft and flowing when dry.
This boneyard of bone, shell grit and bony bits,
is caressed by the wind, currents and waves into dunes, banks, bars and drifts
that are constantly played and reworked.
It is this boneyard beach which provides the perfect
barrier and margin along the shore absorbing
the thrust of storms, winds and waves
protecting it from erosion.
Like the bones in a cemetery, or a calavera
the debris field on a beach
protects and sustains the living form
with the heritage remains of the past,
remembered and put to good use.
THE OCEAN
Alluring Amazing Ocean
Boundless Charming, Dynamic
Endless Energy in Free Frolic Foamy Flow.
Gorgeous, Loud Lovely, Marvellous, Musterious.
Noble or Outrageous.
Pearly, Pristine : Quite or Rowdy.
Unique: Vibrant, Valorous.
Wide, Wonderful with Youthful Vigorous
in zest and zeal.
Ocean flows thrashing waves beyond breakers,
sometimes turbulent, sometimes calm tranquil.
Liners, Vessels, Ships on voyage.
Passenger sinking in dreams of vastness.
Millions of sea creature struggling to survive,
floating, swimming, clinging to seaweeds,
crawling or settling in the abyss.
Preys and Predators thriving simultaneous.
Coral displaying floral garden spectacular beyond human vision.
Icebergs huge or small to float showing one portion,
nine times being submerged deceiving onlookers.
Aquanauts to venture expeditions under the ocean.
Ocean carrying immense treasures without any measure.
Ocean flows calling land dwellers to explore.
Bottle cap in the sand.
forsaken barren beach.
Towel colors once grand
diminished by sun’s bleach.
Tropical paradise
long left barren by man.
Hurricane a surprise,
deserted without plan.
Collapsed plastic beach balls
strewn among the seaweeds.
Once bright the eye recalls,
but now the sight recedes.
Hibiscus trees deflexed,
entwined with pale, pinched palms.
Verdant life springs forth vexed.
The damaged, begging alms.
Flora and fauna rise;
slow repristination.
Beach in rousing reprise,
resplendent salvation.
Utopia restored;
Nature’s tacit accord.
I lie leisurely on a bed of burning coals
My soul freezes to its core,
The night tears out the heart of the day
And swallows the sun whole,
As my tears ravage the spirit of the sea
My thoughts drift like the seaweeds.
~Contest: Bite Size# 51
~Sponsor: Line Gauthier.
Dawn arrives in a dark widow’s shawl.
A hard sea rubs raw
the knuckled bones of the shore.
The first thing a sailor sees as he dreams of arrival
are the white hands. Sometimes the hands
are land marooned seagulls,
sometimes the hands are the open fists of the sea.
When in a stony village by the waves
he disembarks from the tossing dark,
when he clambers over its sea walls
he laughs, but it is not a merry laughter
more a harsh cry of a wild and restless of joy.
The cobbled streets are shedding their scales.
Fish heads are poking through net curtains.
Mackerels swim in world-weary eyes.
Old men leave their cots
shave their whiskers with a clam shell.
Seaweeds hang like dreadlocks from dripping eves.
Bare cold feet roll over paved stones
all is slipping backwards.
A sailor must wash his face with beer
while bailing green water out of his shipwrecked eyes.
With tear drops,
your blue eyes
already turned to
a pair of acquariums
where seaweeds and mussels
have fully grown,
I wonder when fishes
swimming happily
will come to the throne
What a shock
it was for me to notice
that the seaweeds and mussels
already began to grow
in your blue eyes,
What sort of crabs dared
to tell you so many lies?
I know you so well now
that I can instantly
capture your moods.
Watching
as the tide ebbs -
you regretfully reveal
hidden treasures.
Children with small nets
probe into
your very soul,
and seabirds
plunder your bounties.
If I listen carefully
I can hear you cry.
Oh but the tide incoming
is a different matter.
Water gently
chuckles through
parched crevices,
small creatures return
where they belong.
Behold, seaweeds dance
in joy, and
once again
rejuvenated
you count your losses,
lick your wounds.
Written: circa 1994
———
Gull Point is in the East Coast Bays of
Auckland, New Zealand. An old haunt.
new growth is smothered
scrubbing the leaf's green color
from dazzle to dark
eddying currents
in its churning funnel face
weeds swirl quivering
Poseidon's Paradise
Sunbeams glide across oceans of gold,
awakening Poseidon from his slumber.
His trident flashes bolts of lightning,
summoning mermaids from their dreams.
Tails splashing rhythmically in delight,
their scales flash like colors of rainbows.
Seaweeds sway in depths of splendor...
blessed with water, their world is paradise.
Date: 07-08-2021
Contest: Workshop: Adjectives Deleted Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Jack Webster
Placement: 2nd Place
Broken Seashells,
canvasses of lobsters
tossed ashore by waves
are an open cemetery
with endless laments...
as green seaweeds
decorate them morbidly
if they were flowers!
I look around this beach
not frequented by a wanderer;
the strong stench of fish
is too unpleasant to sensitive noses,
but it's the perfect dinner
for those hungry gulls that swish
and land on their corpses!
Beer cans and water bottles
not disposed in nearby bins
attract rats with extreme hunger
and finding little, they chomp chasing after
the mackerels wiggling on the scorching sand;
oh, they happily feast on them and hiss...
keeping away the squeaking seagulls!
This abandoned beach once was
as pristine as the bluish water,
nobody littered it and people
walked barefoot seeking their favorite spots,
not getting cuts on fragmented seashells;
then hurricane Sandy came and left it desolate...
no souls returned to their homes,
and it became a ghost town forever...
and the few who stayed carried fright in their guts!
When I emerged from that rough sea
I wore a crown of seaweeds in my hair
Because the mermaids whispered to me,
"Our home, please do take care"
I looked around and saw rocks
Staring horribly at me, yelling silently,
"Stop wrecking us! Stop the clocks!"
I felt the gentle pushing of a tiny wave
Tugging my feet, as if shooing me away
I heard its cry, or was I just deceived?
"Go home, don't scathe me."
Nauseated, I blinked faster as I might,
In a split second, blinded by the raging sunlight.
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