#fathoms
In an ocean of night, dreaming of a closed dining space / We were snooping in on a harsh conversation of strangers that we knew / Towards dawn you spoke / as real in the dream as an apparition in the real / of Father and Mother / of them cruising off on a road trip / You faltered at a word I recollect but won't spell / It absorbed into whale song ticking to a time piece / itching to signal morning / and I could feel the depth of many fathoms floating over a waking to Spring / like being pressed against a cherry blossom trunk / in a tug of war, a push and pull / Let's go Jungian on this, he is much more pleasant / I did see a bumble bee yesterday, not a golden scarab, although that could have been a circadian premonition / and I woke up to a shower of blossoms //
May 11, 2021
May 11, 2021 at 8:44 AM UTC
Fathoms below,
To the depths of the Sea.
The world asundered,
By its wonder.
Fathoms above,
Wings of Eagles soar.
Storms sweep.
The world in awe...
Of its evolving atmosphere.
Above and Below.
Fathoms are bold.
For the world to know.
Apr 30, 2014
Apr 30, 2014 at 7:52 AM UTC
Beneath the drum of days
my heart lies chained—
too tired to wake the part of me
that might release it.
Both have lost hope.
Both wait like dark stones
on the ocean floor,
clinging to the depths that hold them.
When will I be enough?
When the sun dries the sea?
When my heart turns to salt—
white, brittle,
a cure for someone else’s wounds?
I have waited so long
that oblivion laughs at me
from eternity’s window,
teeth arranged in perfect rows
like a shark.
If all that’s left of my life
are black eyes beneath the surface,
then I will drift in the wonder
of my folly,
matching it in fathoms
forever.
Beneath, I am beneath—
a being being eaten
by unprocessed grief.
Beneath, I am beneath,
and you won’t find me anymore,
for where I am
is too deep,
too deep,
too deep.
Nov 9, 2025
Nov 9, 2025 at 7:39 PM UTC