Standing on a Sandy Cliff

Standing on a sandy cliff my face against the wind lines of white across the blue roaring in the din. Twilight promise of the night the boldest stars begin to light the swells whose nighttime glow beckons moonlight kin. Drawn by whispers of the breeze the ocean calls from deep within Alas, I must now turn away and say good-bye again.

The Leaping Sloop (or Over the Bar and Onward)

Pounding through the waves

jouncing like a cork

twisting in the churning rift

body-bending torque

Sinking dip, springing rise

sideways sudden jerk

back and forth across the moon

the mast swings half berserk

Praying it will stop

this voyage can't end too soon

I'll soon be flat out on my back

staring at that moon

Moonlight Soaked Swells

Moonlight soaked swells undulate,

Steely gray this summer's night.

White waves foaming penetrate

the dunes, I jump away too late.

Crabbing

Crab rings surface

Clattery crabs

Flipped back like Frisbees,
they row away

Rain is Falling Through the Air

  Rain is falling through the air, soaking up all sound
  Softy roaring rain, pouring pouring pounds the ground
  Tiny droplets dripping seeping slowly all around
  Earthworms creeping through the grass,
      to sidewalks they are bound

Oh, Those Critics

So qualified and full of sighs,
They cannot wait to criticize,
They know their stuff, these clever bards,
Their game were poker, then their cards
Would always be a royal flush
With all those jokers up the tush.
How could they lose, 'cause they're so wise?
Crouched to pounce should you generalize.
An easy win! Or is it so?
Cheap little victory, but don't they know
That every time we speak
We guide our brains to make the leap
Across the gorge between our words
and trace the course that must emerge. 

The Making of Carrion

In times of past the wings will fly;

and messages carried by pigeons on drafty winds

will, if in time, save the day, fewer will die,

or else vultures will fatten on splayed kings.

O'er such distance flown wrapped round tiny leg,

so urgently come, what must they say?

Rushed scribbles fuming terror, desperately beg:

"You know your dept, now you must pay."

Dark shadows shiver on frozen castle walls,

Torches hissing black smoke through flaming light

gather heroes to answer their dooming call,

air squeezed by dread and drained by whispered flight

Quiet orders prepare restless mounts.

Seers brought forth to foretell fate

quiver wordless as they count

the time left to those nearest Hades' gate.

While far away queering panic numbs

the courage in fleeing breasts. As pagan Mars

whips up the coming storm, they leave their young

to merciless conquerors for their swords to carve.

Evil nymphs out from the forest; they dare

to work their evil covered by terror's nettles,

their victims never knowing from where

the arrows came as to the earth they settle.

Culled victims mouth wordlessly to White Death

while nymphs rob their prey in remorseless theft,

losing all, violated until their last breath,

whence brute ogres spring from their lairs to drag away what's left

Sudden beguiling calm, is this respite?

or the receding tide sucked in by the seething

tidal wave? The silence: Might

the Gods show pity and intervene?

But hurrying demons harvest their last.

A fine yield it was and not much trouble.

The carnage is coming they know, and fast

as they retreat back to shadowy forest hovels.

And warrior waves crash in slaying, screams

terrorize the fleeing, their lives not long

as swishing axes leave bloody seams;

engaged in the timeless making of carrion.

And rescuer heroes on wheezing horses run,

eyes fixed ahead, but they cannot see

the last few minutes of their lives that are done;

and whose carrion will nourish a sapling tree.

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that grows up high over hundreds of years,

spreading wide branches whose leaves enchant

us as we retell this tale of long dried tears,

shaded from the sun on green grass so fragrant.

Does it matter anymore what happened here?

Does its tranquility mock unfathomed history?

In a distant flash of time men would die for things so dear,

and be forgotten for the rest of eternity.

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And their carrion has fed this tree,

Where we sit so comfortably.

The quiet breeze, the soothing calm,

Where we live so joyfully,

Where they died so terribly.

Oh, Site of carnage, unconsoled fear,

Coated by time, the tumor has disappeared.

And no one knowing what fate did here.

What does the caressing breeze conceal?

And a casual dig ... reveal?

Are You Going to Bring Me Doom?

Are you going to bring me doom,

tales of havoc coming soon,

of draining seas and shattered moon,

of future bleak with pressing gloom?

Or are you going to bring me light

that sweeps all darkness from my sight,

forecast a future only bright

with hope, when goodness holds all might?

Or are you going to bring me dawn,

or offer dusk with shadows long,

or cloudy days that go along

with blue sky breaks and sunshine strong?

Heaven sent and Hades bound,

fate keeps throwing us around.

Lightened up and weighted down,

in bliss we bask, in dread we drown.

Yet always comes another day,

better times or worse some way.

Are not content we who can say

for nothing more or less we pray?

Dawn is lit

Trees blur in misty air
over steely flat river
flowing in the glow
of morning's sunrise embers, mountains
grow into the graying sky

as

Percolating on the rocks
hissing water mutes the shocks
of branches snapping in the sun
the dawn is lit, the day begun.

Waterfalls

Lacy strips adorning walls
of black rock cliffs: waterfalls,
chanting in their whispered hush,
harmonize with the wind wrestling
in the quiv'ring brush.

F@&#, it's hot

      Fuck!

      It's hot.

      Cool in the shade, I am not.

      There sure as hell's an awful lot

      of summer coming, devil's plot.

Time Posts

was and is and will be are

words that tell us just how far

we are from now, and let us know:

where we can and cannot go.

The Tour

Come on, take a trip through hell.
Yes, I've done it, know it well.
See the sights, you'll think it's swell.
It's all great, except the smell

of burning bodies; charcoal eyes,
the constant swarm of spirit flies,
the double-talk of constant lies,
mournful pleas, regretful cries.

Stop and take a closer look.
You won't see this in any book.
For every evil thought you brook,
there's one more jerk to set the hook.

-----

So, your time comes, you start the climb
till Satan tightens up the line.
You jump and flail, but there's no sign
of being saved by Great Divine.

Who's to blame? You took the bait.
Evil doings, you couldn't wait
to score a gain, your greed to sate.
But now that you have seen your fate,
you'd take it back, but it's too late.

Good bye

Wave Tops Crash

Grey clouds sink

into the sea, I think

they dye the waters, too,

to match their own cold steely hue.

White surf grinds

pebbles into grains quite fine

'Cause without salt the swirling sands

make up a soup that's rather bland

Wave tops crash

whipping creamy foam, they mash

sea creatures into paste

then mix in sand and salt to taste

'Tween split cracks

in timber planks of wood sea shacks

the cold wind sneaks to make a play

at stealing warmth from us today

Sand-drifts storm

driftwood bulkheads. Wind torn

sea grass holding fast

in hollows safe from gusty blasts

Clam shells gasp

for breath, shell hinges rasp

as op'ning to the rising tide,

they fill their gills till satisfied

Solo bird

above the waves; I heard

pounding surf accompany

a cawing seagull symphony

Twenty Years had Passed Since Then

Twenty years had passed since then
Young and dreamy they had been
Passion driven, that was when
They thought they'd found their way to heaven

Now their eyes reflected hair
gone gray and straight from years of care
No more blinded by the glare
of faces once so smooth and fair

Where lust once ruled now friendship reigns
Where feeling governed mind has gained
Like knees and joints that now complain
They talk of dreams that time has maimed

Drag of memory once so strong
Progress held in check so long
Knot unbound, the burden gone
Their paths once crossed, then life went on

And here they cross once more today
Oh, the tricks that time does play
What felt so close, like yesterday
Is really very far away

He doesn't love her anymore
Was this the man she'd once adored
Wounds have healed, no longer sore
Waves break calm on a sandy shore

Sometimes the past creeps up on me

Sometimes the past creeps up on me and taps me on the shoulder
Startled, I look back and forget that now I'm older

Your ghost is standing there, flirting with me like you always used to
But for all that, you might just as well be a clay gray statue

There's no touch, no warmth, no teasing eyes, none of those things at all
Just dour heartfelt hope for nothing more than an image I recall

Dreaming of the past, once again I make that crucial mistake
of yearning beyond all possibility for what was, and making my heart ache

Sometimes when I stand on those high wally cliffs, looking out over the sea
I remember you. Do you remember me?

The Seagull

Glistening seagulls don't complain

about the wet, about the rain,

floating on a hard sea wind

just outside my window pane.

Crashing blows come wave by wave,

flinging surf-born stormy spray,

Herring swimming 'neath white caps,

don't know how cold it is today.

The seagull roosts upon a log,

blending into racing fog.

Splat'ring dots of rain on glass;

ocean sands turn into bog.

Folded wings in restful pose

spread a bit in gusty blows,

then settle back. I see it all

in misty sea dreams while I doze

beside my window, the sea my show.

The Forest Stream

River roaring, water pouring

over walls of rock.

Bubbles seething, upwells heaving,

gurgling waters talk

Brown leaves floating, insects boating,

slowly swirling pool.

Shadows bathing, green ferns wading,

lapping in the cool

Rapids flashing, white foam dashing,

gouging out the shore

Branches dunking, boulders clunking,

surging corridor.

Ripples glitter, fir trees shiver,

trembling pines and leaves.

Whirlpool whirling, backwash curling,

in the sudden breeze.

My Thanks to Them

Gotta hand it to them,

to them the credit they're due.

All is owed their courage:

their lives instead of you.

Fire raids that take the cake,

bombs that smash the view,

storms of props that fill the air,

trading blood for you.

White hot concrete flat as stone,

taking planes out from the blue.

White hot sands spell paradise,

and set the stage for you.

You'd never have been ever born

to live as you now do.

Or met me in the victor's land

where I found love with you.

The winners also losers,

thousands never knew

the bliss of life, the gorgeous time

that I have known with you.

Alpine Paradox

The closer you are, the cooler the air,

the higher you climb, the bolder the glare.

Frostier feelings take over: I swear

I can't figure out how this could come

about. 'Cause when all is said and done,

the closer I get, the colder the sun.

Nostalgic Ashes

Nostalgic ashes in the fireplace

are all that remain of winter's embrace.

Gray bare branches, freezing winds, snowflakes race

from memory, leaving not a single trace.

The Muse

While the muse cavorts with others, our eyes sometimes meet. She will give me a polite, rather dry smile, and then turn back to her banter with the prettier talent. But I know a flirt when I see one. She knows she can't fool me.

Because I know that only the extraordinary, the exceptional, the sublime fascinate her. The rest are mere diversion. And while her coquettish ways rouse in me a desire for her affections, I rather settle for that bare look, whence these modest works spring.

Welcome to Shipwreck Poems.