Silver Beach: Always the Sole First

familiar white fishing boat, up with early light,
seeking sustenance and pleasure in = measure,
anchored ‘bout quarter mile east of my under-the-coverlet,
(of course! as the crow, raven or scavenging osprey flies),
it’s precise location amazingly exact, but alas, soon daily
familiarity breeds no secrecy, and now joined by a
farther out, smaller version, a compatriot in spotitude,
of the best spots for harvesting the early running
brackish bay water favorites, striped or black sea bass

what persistent fortitude these fisher-peoples display,
early to rise, first to depart, when others crowd its “spot,”
(amazed by its knowing precision the exactitude of “spot”)
this ship, always the sole-first, invokes a first poem of the day,
always a soul-first, an unburdening of deepest gratitude that
one more day granted me to imbibe this vista, awake to its
soothing silent heavenly serenity, absent machine or
electronic interference with my delicate sleepy wakefulness,
when newly minted words come into my mind, my
secret spot



Sat AM June 3

Guardians of our sanctity, they who portray themselves, suitably qualified, to determine who in society, BELONGS!

Exclusive minions from cliques of poetry to the Roman Catholic church, Scions of editorial in mainstream media, Mandarins of golf club membership. Intellectual dominions within Universities, Educationists, minority ethnic groups, drug cartels, gangs, the rich and famous ….and the military, always the Military....and aspiring politicians of all caste and creed.

Society is put through the selection process every day in every way for essentially, there is no trust anymore throughout these realms of society and an aura of lofty heavy intolerance pervades, for there is nothing to gain by dilution of the criteria of selection and admission ….and a huge risk of excommunication should one be so foolish as to permit a paling of the standards and rules set, for acceptance.

And who, you ask, sets these exalted standards….Ah now that’s the moot point for each avenue of exclusivity has, in the wings, they who wield the power, they who jealously guard their domain and exclusivity with guile, authority and a large degree, of subtle, or perhaps not so subtle, threat. Islands of society, usually enthroned by individuals of accrued, clawed, seniority who are attuned to an environment of command and rule…..in select domains of, actual or imagined, privileged entitlement.

There is, of course, a cost to this. It results in a hugely stratified society. Those who are in and those who are out.
The “In Crowd” spend a fortune maintaining their status and spend much of their time enhancing their image and, what is seen as an expected, anticipated high standard of performance.
The “Out Crowd” are largely oblivious to their lowly status and are generally quite unconsciously happy with their lot, yet despite this, there are the frantic segment within, who are intent on trying to “Make It” by investing regularly in Lotto, Bitcoin  or the racetrack and/or pursuing a contrived elevation, levitation of status in the forever quest of attaining immediate notoriety, fame and beauty.

Said elevation, though, is subject to irresolute resistance imposed by a malignancy, unimaginable to most and bordering on visceral termination to interlopers or would be aspirants.

Thus it is, globally, within the kin of humankind….and if anything, the exclusivity is magnifying to an irreconcilable, irrevocable
….US & THEM!

M@Foxglove.Taranaki.NZ

Heavy is the load, this day,
Much, the penalties to pay,
Poignant is the lingered taste,
Fraudulently masked in waste,
Hands that ache but seek to feel
The softness in her glance, that’s real.
Seek to touch the gentle face
Of she, who would deport with grace….
Would that I, in what is left,
Trust in what remains, bereft?

Wandering in halls of stone
Starkly feeling, so alone,
Echoes in these failing years
Of ghosts lamenting falling tears
In laugher lost amid the shroud
Of sunlight filtering through cloud,
Seek to touch her wrinkled smile
Invoking shades of love…. awhile.
Would that we now, so bereft,
Trust that, what remains…is left?

M@Foxglove,TaranakiNZ
May 28 2023