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Ralph Akintan Dec 2018
Snoring gangling giant,
Slumbering away on a snowy
      night.
Spoil of war unprotected,
Opening ways for ingress of
      worrisome infiltrated
      interlopers.
Remember the lord of Philistine
      Samusini,
Who returned not from the
      seductive antics of his
      mistress,
Perished in the furnace fire of
      frustration,
And drowned in the Laguna of
     no return

Slumbering hindered the move
      of the water.
Howling of devourers enclosed
      your shack.
Heterocercal caudal fins of
      sharks prevented the sailing
      of ships.
Wolfished wailing of tidal waves
      consumed the anchorage
      ground.
And the apparition of foes
      lurked-up in darkness like
      the foehn on the Alps.

Awake before the devastating
      night owl.
Awake from the abyss of deep
      slumber.
Awake before the cockcrow,
When darkness of defeats
Controls the reigns of night.
Snoring gangling giant,
Awake unto light.
M Padin Oct 2013
These old doors,
sullen as spinsters.

Wharves, deckhands, the old chopping block:
flights of time misremembered in a
backward gaze.

Toes in water.
Hooks to fish.
The sea salty.

How shall I count the ways...
lost among the waves.

But look, afar, the old man on his boat!
Is he Charon come to point the way to
the seaward lost; or has he come to
sequester memory to some far shore?

(Maybe he's a schmuck with a paddle!)

Seagulls, feathers, the brine:
all groan with this wood.
In this wood was the line
that snatched life from the water
(the fish, the scales—they shine)
and flopped on the deck,
heterocercal.

The evening closes on this vista but
not the charades of time.
Written for this collection of excellent photographs. A departure of style for me, but hey, quatrains aren't going to cut it anymore. You may find the photographs here:

http://julianesharirphotography.wordpress.com/2013/10/01/not-broadway/

Comments are welcome.

— The End —