Posts Tagged ‘sea’



on nasty days,
I always thought of myself
as some scary
deep-sea creature
full of angry, sharp teeth.

when calmer,
i pictured myself, maybe, as
a rock from the bottom
of the oceans:
hard and mossy,
unlikeable, untouchable,
so cold no one
would ever wanna take home.

and no one could change
this image of myself,
no matter how many friends,
or how many hugs
I would get,
how many messages
or love gestures.

no mirror could display
any but hideous things.

I could only see
ten-thousand feet
into the cold water.

I was always
alone in my thoughts.


and then,
in a rare moment
I surfaced,
up up up, until I was
close to the land.

up there,
you came along:
a flurry little creature,
swimming about.

you circled me once, and then again,
twirling the waters,
in a flow
full of power.

as you cut
the waters,
the scales on your tail sparkled.
when I touched them,
they were as hard and as colorful
as a thousand gems
under my fingertips.

I caressed you
over and over,
and as you laid your head on my shoulder,
your coal-black hair floated
and shone almost white
under the milky moonlight.

the refraction
under the water
made it all look
like fractals.

so pretty
were your pearly white teeth
when you smiled.


and you visited,
many times.
we danced,
and talked until the wee hours,
stopping only when the fishermen came along.
we were
as happy as we could
for that moment.

we played cards
on sunken ships,
and you’d always let me win.

“you clearly wanted the victory,
so I don’t see the point in winning
like this.”

on these moments,
I didn’t see myself
as distorted
as you touched me,
as we kissed,
I felt things that I hadn’t in very, very long.

but the surface
was bright
and loud! too loud!
and I wanted silence.

yet the seafloor was too dark,
and too quiet for you,
the water murky,
the ambiance too chilly:
you wanted the moon
and the stars,
and the shells in the sand.

you wanted the world
and try to, one day,
take the land.


so, I gave you what I could:
my name and a promise
that I’d answer
every time you called.

and a goodbye,
so you could go.

I gave you the victory
you yearned for:

there was no longer
a point in winning
if you could not have
the light that you needed.




i just wish i could be surrounded by sea, now.
the gray sky above,
sand beneath.
no noise, no people.

just me, and the crashing waves
[the only sound].
maybe i’d put my feet in the water
in the sunless midday.
watch as the foam dissipates over and over,
feel the ocean wash away this knot that’s settled in my stomach,
the dizziness that clouds my head.

it is a weird feeling,
growing older.
a chill that settles in the bones.



“I refuse to drown”

say all captains of all ships when the hull touches the stone, when the helm spirals out of control, and there are no lighthouses marking the way to safety, when they capsize and drown, drawn to the bottom by the sirens, meeting their ultimate fate;

“sink or swim” is no good for any sailor when they reach their final destination: the feasting place among the fish and the whales and the eels that nibble on their hands and their lifeless eyes (and pretty much all the flesh that they can reach). there is no last breath, no saving prayer, no god, no queen when their earthly treasures are spread around the ocean floor – shiny coins that reefs and algae have no use for – a floating grave on the water for sharks that will not mourn.