Tag Archives: ocean

Gatlinburg By The Shore

I drive straight through until I get the sea, just stopping for gas and quick snacks.

Gatlinburg on the shore is what this town is, but I can see the endless waters here.

The threat of rain as I sit on the beach, the sky the color of an old, neglected tombstone.

The waters just as dark in color. But oceans separate the worlds, the planes of being.

 

I walk on the sand, heading away from gaudy, crass city. There are cigarette butts

and beer cans and plastic trash in the sand. Nothing sacred or beloved. No pride at all.

I walk on the sand, and maybe just in my imagination, I see a mermaid out in the water,

and I hear her tempting and mournful song, the only true psalm in praising loss.

 

I stand there, between kingdoms, wanting to leave this one forever, not knowing how.

I see, however real, a mermaid past the breaking waves, a dream of spirits and angels

that made all this world pure and treasured, before we made all of it all about ourselves.

Her song is mournful, a psalm to loss, and standing there, I wish for the will to go to her.

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Reassures The Sun

The March snows still lingering,

the sunlight cold and plain white.

The trees line the street, the park,

and she walks alone, nowhere to be.

She thinks she might walk to the sea.

Even in the last days of winter it’s a wonder.

The endless water, anything could be beyond.

The sky wide open, without remorse, judgment.

Or maybe sit awhile, under a grand old tree,

by the little creek in the park, softly whispering,

but away from the children’s whoops and cries,

so she can read, and dream of another world.

The days is hers, this little slice of earth a kingdom.

She might not be queen or saint, but it’s her home.

And home slits your throat as it holds your hand.

Smothers the starlight, as it reassures the sun.

Once she dreamed of Riviera or Hawaii in summer,

but maybe exhaustion or loss has made her stay,

and the ocean is wide open forever, down the road,

and how can say what lies beyond it.

Artemis

The waves crash, crystal blue and Coke bottle green.
The salty air stings her bare skin, whips her blonde hair.
In her swimsuit, her body a Greek sculpture, softly pink
and perfect, as strong as the sun that warms the air.
I follow her to the grotto, Artemis unblemished.
Our little world in the warm, clear waters away
from all that would sully us, destroy us, drown us.
Under the waves Sirens call us down into the deep.
We hold close in the water, rolling with the waves.
The magic is fading with our age, and can’t protect us.
Her body is warm and strong and I don’t trust these feelings.
She pulls me tight and I bury my face in that golden hair.
Walk hand in hand back to our subdivision above the ocean’s edge.
Holdings hands means more than it did as children, but does it mean romance?
We are silent, only our harsh, ragged breath making a sound above the surf.
Her hand is calloused and rough, and it’s the touch of Artemis, still free to run.

Ashley, I Dream of the Sea

Ashley, I dream of the sea,
the endless clear waters
warm and bright, eternal,
unending.
 Sky and water undivided,
welcoming us into heaven
and the pleasures of the world,
so sweet.
 Under crystal waves, we are clean,
and the sun never fades away,
the only star that leads us home,
to death.
 We dissolve, salt and sugar,
into nothingness, back into the light,
coming one with the womb’s water,
so free.
 All thought and dream and desire
slipping into the bright shimmering shards,
into the vision that lit the brokeness of flesh,
to nothing.

Beach House

Naked in the sun that caress her skin like a lover.
Shy smile and mischief in her eyes.
Just us here. Only the ocean knows our names.
Summer as endless as the ocean to the horizon.
Our bodies warm in an embrace. The sun so forgiving.
A garden for us. Just us. No longer needing names.
A dream of pleasure that brings no evil to the world.
Just us. The sun that is our mother and the sky that is her eyes.
Everything is endless. Everything is bright.