And when I met that girl in San Francisco
Off a dusty little pier
with rotting wood
and squawking seals
And screaming bayside wind

She caught me off-tropics
and danced with the grace
of a palm tree
lines between the quaked
concrete
off telegraph avenue
On an obscuring Sunday morning

and no
she didn't go
to church or any silly thing
like a temple or synagogue
She said those were no places
for god

God was the trees

We smoked cigarettes and got off to each other's
carcinogenic practices
oxidizing a little faster in conjunction with hopeful
Formaldehyde
Deriding the formalities
of small talk and trivialities

She liked her guitars with nickel-wound strings
I with nylon
But I couldn't play songs
that sounded any good with them
while she could
and did.

and girl did it ever sound good

She'd laugh at the contests on the radio
while we drove on a half-moon
to half-moon
full and whole of ourselves
We'd stopped in the lobby of a cheap motel
And waltzed to background
muzak
wacked out of our minds
Sniffing in deep huffs of subliminal
divinity
Understanding
loving
that mind-numbing
monotony

muzak...
ppsh.
Who ever really listened to that?

And then she left
at the end of one fine winter day
in a cloudless sky I waved
watched her plane
skip off
towards the edge of a pale blue horizon
back south
to warmer climes
to wherever she truly stayed
The tugging on my heartstrings
chimed grotesque in
precise
D minor.

Beyond the chaos the beauty intertwines. the very essence truly one of a kind. voice of an angel song of a siren. You lure me over, like youre someone to confide in. See from the outside, the battle within. A war in its own right, to pull together and win. That kindred spirit. Turned out to be you. Who i've waited for.. Yet I never knew. You let me wander into this world of your own. To find a home together in this all alone. I'd carry you with me through the rising tide.. You would pull me under with a lies you cannot hide

I dreamed of you again last night,
A Venus wreathed in seafoam light
And sheathed in midnight,
bruise-black dress all cinched up close
Around your figure, clinging tight
To every curve, each tidal wave -

As if the moon, tempestuous,
Stirred in together lust and wrath
Her darkened face all smoldering,
No pity left in her loving eyes.

I dreamed your sweet, voracious sin,
Your laughter and your wicked grin,
And barely dragged myself away
To wake before the dawn could come.
The bruise-black sky awaited me,
As if my eyes could find you there.

The moon, so blinding-bright, just smiled
That deadly teasing twist of lips.
I won't deny. I searched her glare,
Spent fragments of eternity
In one more step, another slip
Before the slide back into dreams.

an' when at lasste
they reach'd
the fartheste shorre

an' placed
their booted feet
'pon her ****** soil

they turned and lookt
wi' shaded eyes
farr 'cross
the Tranquil Sea

beheld the beauty
of their mothers' grayce
a crowne of starrs
Her diadem

an' tho they long
for Her embrayce
must heed the calle
an' join tha' race

oh tha' Song of Destiny
tis tha' which burns
within our souls

Her ardent voyce
doth beckon us
to reach
the farr-flung starrs

Her siren's song
drawin' us
to touch
the fartheste shorre

beyonde the seas
beyonde the klouds
out to the starrs
we journey farr

we venture forth
to search
to know
to reach beyond
and touch
The Fartheste Shorre


p. j. upchurch
circa 1997
.
.
https://deepundergroundpoetry.com/poems/298731-the-fartheste-shorre/
.
.

My tongue feels like lead.
There is a buzzing in my head.
Th lights are too bright,
It's too late in the night,
I just want to leave,
Can you even believe
that I am on a boat?
I'm not supossed to float!
But now I must sing,
for only I can bring
A calm to the sea
These sailors are looking at me
with a new found clarity.
For I can bring them prosperity
all because of my shimmering tail.
But don't worry for I will prevail.
Because with the shinning of the moon.
I will bring them all their doom.

Perhaps 2 am is more a siren’s song.
It softly calls to bed
Or maybe urges
For one more look,
Chapter, song, show.