Every small town along Interstate 80
told a story as my car tires sang.
They reminded me I’d been
with them before, still nestled
in fields of corn as they witnessed
each season as it passed. I surfed the radio
and with a second ear, learned to listen
for secrets the land revealed.
Downstate, locals said were true
to life, away from glistening towers
of Chicago as it rose on shoulders
of a lake that thought it was an ocean.
A friend once told me about
a woman who never drove the Loop.
A mother in a diner with two toddlers
told them to use their indoor voices
such excitement found, their lives
lying ahead. Her father nodded
to the memories they stirred.
Geneseo, Mineral and Princeton—
the story played out everywhere.
This I knew. I checked the oil
tires and gas before I started.
my car
a vessel for life
as it passes
An odd
feathery down-
turn of newfound
dreaded funds was fortu-
nately worth more than what the hated Fur-
ry Rotund Honey Dew knew to be water fronting wooden draft-
y thunder dogs so worn and dandy that the Candy Man alone
could run like Daddy throwing deft redun-
dant forts around as if
the 14th Door
had come
unglued
revealing nothing but a fairy hut with 20 clown head toadies trending up-
ward where
the Theory Runes are read by nude defrauding dry
Mad Dorks who author notes defying the very turf
we've surfed so far today
and further on into the night that not
a single sole can say will end up swell in terms of Old Brown Shoe
repair.
teen magazine came out in the late sixties
my mother bought it for my sister and I
every cover featured a blonde girl with blue eyes
she looked l like she surfed in California
Inside there were ads, ads, ads, ads, ads and ads.
It was a slick magazine with lots of glossy pages.
the items they sold looked enticing and necessary.
We did not have the money to buy any of this.
There were a couple of stories, and maybe a comic or two.
But the ads were the kicker.
They showed us things we never hoped to be able to purchase.
After a while, we lost our enthusiasm for this magazine.
the mooring rope of thought severed
we surfed silence unseen
self-aware
animating the void
between the pause of heartbeats
beseeching love to pair
whence betwixt strobes of bliss magnetism
vaporised presence transformed as light
declaring life’s game is but a dare
Two opposites, unknown of their fate,
Randomly surfed the wide internet before it was too late.
From one end of the country to the other end.
Scrolled and scrolled, like it was never going to end.
Oh! It was just a click, that's how we met.
From hesitant texts and calls,
To glee when texts and calls are received
And later turned to elation.
Oh! It was just a click; that's how we connected.
Excitement and nervousness just rushed
When we met for the very first time, we just blushed.
There was no lack of delight.
It's hard to forget that sight.
Oh! It was just a click; we felt something ignite.
Later, it turned into hope and positivity
The foundation is built on trust and love, togetherness and unity.
We met, the folks met, and the process went on.
And finally, we tied the knot, vowing to never be apart.
In happiness or sorrow, in light or darkness,
In beautiful times or ugly times.
We vow to share each moment together,
And walk through all the odds and evens together.
Oh! It was just one click,
That we found each other for life's sweet and bitter journey.
Her first time on a board,
was February 1922,
at Muizenberg Beach, South Africa,
then again, in August too,
the lady surfed Honolulu,
Hawaii, where,
by Duke Kahanamoku,
there she may have been taught,
and in Waikiki lost her shorts.
Who would have thought,
of all the girls
in the whole wide world,
she was the sort to shoot the curl.
Tho' a novel way to spend the day,
no crime this time, yet still a mystery,
was the surfing passion of Agatha Christie.
2025.03.06 @ 06:06:06
Finally, two embroidery projects that I have finished.
One to keep and one to give.
A cute building appeared underneath this poem.
Inside, along the L shaped benches,
He sat at the desk, surfed on the internet,
And comfortably crossed his long, lower legs.
His second home was embroidered
On a simple white material,
The red galvanized walls on top,
Housing the Child Care Centre.
The glass windows framed with silver metal,
Located on the ground floor,
In front and on the side of the building,
The wear and tear black wooden columns,
Side by side unevenly standing in silence,
Covering most of the building glass surfaces.
On the right hand side,
A long and wide concrete foot path,
Leading to the front entrance,
Before joining the back garden.
Once inside, there are many facilities,
And well equipped amenities.
So many fond memories, engraved in my heart,
Written on my phone and also stored in my USB.
I now put these down to embroidery
To commemorate once my favorite library,
It ended since the day it went like this .........
As my nose twitched,
before the coming sneeze,
time froze, anticipation heightened,
awaiting its inevitable release.
I surfed the bardo,
my thoughtless attention animated,
wherein fulcrum of tremors,
could not be located.
The tumbler did fall,
when I least expected;
I covered my face,
that others be protected.
As for the act,
expelling saliva and air,
it’s a learnt art,
I perform with flair.
"My soul ceases to stroll ~
in the ruffled leaves of lotus letters,
whose paper sun
has never surfed to your seabeds..."
~ quote by the poet.
Say, I'll be the saviour-spell
...for your champagne stars, sinking
in eyes eclipsed by cupid
where orphans of daylight, dwell
when I am nothing... but pain
a puppet princess, dethroned
I dream to be your heartbeat
...pearled in peace periwinkles
when poetry is Psyche
...freckled in my fogged marrow
and petals fall, pulse by pulse
ink me feathered, in grape-golds
if the hydra hymns forget
to breathe my name in silence
O' love, I'll bask ~ laced with lores
healed in you...like a poem
The little urchin sat by the sea watching the waves splash
no parent to watch him no rules to obey, just a big old sea
He survived on wild berries and fresh catch of the day
half crazed with heat he wore nothing but skin hide
A little roe deer depleted by summer, lost but not found
no rescue mission in question for this child, un-abused
He was raised by wolves in the thicket of the forest
respecting nature he ate what he caught with bare hands
A feral one with matted dreadlocks and eyes like sea glass
moved like a panther with stealth, as he surfed the shore
first human contact was made by a fisherman on his arrival
it took years to build up the trust, but eventually he spoke.
In solitude's embrace,
spending a few moments ,
I surfed the ocean of fantssy.
clouds of thoughts afloat in my mind.
Myriad fears of seclusion clung to me.
It was a frosty afternoon,
I gazed at my reflection in the mirror.
An enduring question perplexed me
the very purpose of life.
Is it the pursuit of of fame and prosperity
or the elusive quest for eternal happiness ?
Baffled and driven to life's crossroads ,
I find myself unable to unravel the mystery
and my search endures .
Oh La Malinche
A woman of two lands
In your hands laid the destiny of two lands
The choice was yours to make
To choose which land it was save
Mind so clouded in deep thoughts
To choose between love and lust
To pick between both sides of a coin
Which side was best to join
Oh La Malinche
A betrayal of her people
Choosing to be on the side of foes
With Cortez by her side she went
Into the unknown she was sent
A tale of love and loss it seems
With many reasons hidden dreams
Oh Malinche
A woman caught between two worlds
Seen as a disgrace to her people she was hurt.
In a tumultuous sea she surfed
Oh La Malinche
A symbol tragic of division you became
A new story told in each new vision that came
The history books, your tale being told
With truth and lies not growing old
What was real turns out to be a myth
Your legend lives on
Centuries have come and gone
Your story lingers on still beyond
About your dilemma between two lands
A story told in every verse.
with a short referee sparred
life of son had been marred
when he received a red card
tough thought tried to dawn
son Shawn who became a pawn
serve in Army had gone
longed to see a leaping lizard
being absorbed when big blizzard
turned Shawn into weird wizard
When Shawn would really rally
while he did dilly down in valley
for long time had surfed with Howie
Rest assured wisdom is found within the act of hibernation. Regeneration
of the Alls creation is to be sought with none around. Removing the sounds
& chatter that life brings, allows one peace that can't be bought. Thought's
come together in pieces, while winter weather unravels the ties & loosens the binds the seasons found. Inside the temple of the living mind are rough waves to be surfed in foreign lands. The sands are familiar as life's beaches are closer than seconds & minute hands. Your house is an hourglass full of small stones that slowly but surely slip away. This period of rest is a sure way to engage the
all & reset the clock in every way.
Sunny the goblin
Was a very joyful troll
With a blue surfboard and a stately pose
Down the beach he would stroll
Sunny the goblin
Is a happy bloke they say
He surfs well you know
Loves the seaside so
He will live here one day
He built a shack right on the beach
He built it on sturdy ground
No dinner he had a *paddle pop instead
And began to dance around.
Oh Sunny the Goblin
Was sun tanned as could be
And the people say
He could surf all day
Just the same as *Midge Farrelly
Oh Sunny the goblin
Knew the surf was up that day
So he said lets do some surfing in the sun
So they surfed all the day
Down to the surf shop
With a surfboard in his hand
Buying gear to wear
New T-shirts everywhere
This place was surf gear land
He bought new board shorts for a pound
And a new summer top
He could have bought lots more
But they were closing the shop
Hmm Sunny the Goblin
Had to hurry on his way
With a little sigh he waved goodbye
Great shopping here today
Thumpety, thump thump, thumpety, thump thump
The sand's so hot it glows!
Thumpety, thump thump, thumpety, thump thump
Sunny carries his board running on his toes.!
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