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James Gable Jun 2016
|PART TWO|
D’YOU KNOW
THAT FEATHER
TOOK 23 ½ DAYS
TO LAND

Courtesy is not making fuss
Swallowing the disatisfaction
That grows as you
Realise this is the end
Quickly think up some wise words
To sign off with




ENTERING NOW, like
A man marching in honey:
A birdwatcher with a foot-long prime
on his single-reflex camera,
Also, enter with pages stuffed in your pockets,
On which are shown pictures of birds to identify,
Explaining where they nest and
The altitude at which they fly with
A detailed history of their forest-call-cry

He left in a rush,
A cup of tea (milk, no sugar, weak, hard water)
Was left untouched cooling,
But not at the speed that he sped down the road,
Spotting a thrush and releasing the wheel,
Fumbling for binoculars with excited hands,
Faith until death or heaven!

Even when he’s identified the bird, still
No one is steering his burgundy rover, still,
His hands are busied
By the focus wheel,
Won’t look away,
In focus, out again,
In once more,
Look at him! Show off!

His shutter snaps shut and alarm spreads
Amongst the birds and they dart away in groups
Fast as watercolour, laboured
And blurring in mid-flight

It takes a second or two for the echoe to die
Echoes find places to rest
Amongst the blades of grass
Humming in wait of a second coming

A matchstick structure, sublime
In its intricacy and *******
Of classical architectural traditions
Starts to collapse, later,
In good time, wait, and see
The matchsticks hit the surface,
Almost in reverse, it rattles
The table with fine-rain
Levels of cymbal crashes and violence,
If an ear was to listen
It would register the tinnitus that
We hear in our denial of pure silence.

Our denial of mortality
In its entirety, we laugh at those who
See ghosts on the west country coasts,
Those who dare catch a glimpse
Of long-departed lovers
On the boats that return from
Here or there,
Or solemnly sink
With conviction, miles from land
And there will be those who will
Want to understand

This woman we now see,
Was once married to a captain of ships
That sailed in the formation
Of an arrow, long and narrow,
He sank them all, bequeathed
His fleet to the icy grips of
That body of water famous
For having strong arms and
Snatching hands. She will never
Know if it was part of his plan.

He wrote her once to explain,
But the postman was caught
In the rain of springtime,
That time which is known to be
The season of showers,
And, attached to the grim mornings
Are the cruellest of hours
That postmen share with no one else,
But the letters, have so much life sealed inside,
Sealed by a human tongue
With traces of every kiss

In his pride, the postman did not give the
Soggy letter to the captain’s bride,
It ended up floating from here to there
Unintelligible for sure, the ink
Ran carelessly into puddles and drains,
When the ships all sank
They said nothing remained
The envelope was sealed by a kiss
By now it has found its way back to the sea
By way of rivers, tributaries,
Carried by wind and leaves,
On the feet of hikers that rest
On their backs under a canopy of trees,
It ran down the hills and salted
Ever so slightly more the sea
Where her captain’s body is found
And if he opens his eyes he’ll
See how his letter was returned.

If he opens his eyes.


She is running towards the house
Love, restless as the wind that determinedly
Keeps us all awake, it makes dull noises in its
Late night reflections on an unfulfilled existence,
It rubs its snout on rocks and stretches
Itself around their base to release frustrated energy,
They start to come loose and tumble into the sea,
Splashing the coastline with the tears of
Shipwreck tragedies,
The fallout of her uncertainty
In the ways of love,
Feeling so high up above her captain and unable to touch
His memories
That in fact never set foot on land

Her skirt is up above her knees,
Both feet off the ground,
The jangling sound of her keys are
Like thunder in this slowed down world
Where the worm is still journeying
To his hole and the bird
Is like a badly tuned channel
Where you can’t make out a single word

She runs towards the front door
Her moist eyes, familiar with
These skies that describe ominous clouds
And rain that hammers the floor
Again and once more and soon
She feels she will be buried in ice
With both of her husbands,
She sees him doubled over by the window
Panic in slow motion is like
A ship slowly upturning
In the drama of desolate sea stretches
That have swallowed so many
She moves, fast as a fastened shadow
Stretching.

Like life, reflected on the back of a spoon,
And the sun, finally, swallowed the moon
Part Nine (2) of The Man Who Longed to be an Oyster
Tori May 2013
Her tanned skin reflects in the mirror of which she stares
Only to find imperfections and disatisfaction
Her mind fights her every morning
To some size is just a number on the inside of your jeans
To her size is everything
She is painfully thin
This isn't a disease but rather a way of life
Michelle Jul 2018
chorus:
God your mighty to save;
On Ocean waters;
Of this life-
Despite all my wrongs;
Your still the person
You claim to be;
All your ways are right.

Verses:
I've called upon Jesus name;
But I'm not stronger;
I just hunger-
For a different life.

God you say that Jesus-
and your word are light;
Help me to fight;
In a world that's forever night.

Lord, give me tender words-
Every truth;
Living proof;
That a heart can change.

Let all good change-
Be my reaction;
Dispite disatisfaction;
From a sin filled world.

I don't want be the enemy;
Can't they see;
Set me free;
I want to believe.

Let me die in your name,
All else is vain;
Help me not complain;
Wash away the stain.

Let life not be in vain-
It's time to rearrange;
I want to be yours-
Forever more.
I was trying to set it to the beat of "oceans", but oh, well.
Joe Julian Grace Oct 2020
Living in a world of Snapchat and Instagram,
yet our generations hardest hill to climb is communication.
Endless characters to use and send yet with no meaning at all.
Instant messaging with almost instant disatisfaction.

An A4 blank white sheet, a canvas for your expressions.
Joy, sadness, love and loss, all which can be painted with only one colour emotion.
Ink illuminating more than light on a phone ever could.

The beauty of letters with their poetic constructions.
From Heaneys letters of longing, to a sixteen year olds first love away from home.
Both understandably an act of strong passion and weakness to love
The choice of words hitting with a weight the writter and reader could only translate.

This is the sacrifice made by those who are oblivious to it.
The simplicity and satisfaction.
The lost joys,
of a simple letter
THE POWERS THAT WANT TO BE HAVE BEEN TAKING AWAY OUR PRIVACY, OUR RIGHTS, OUR FREEDOM AND OUR DIVINITY FOR CENTURIES, AND WHY?  BECAUSE WE ARE ALLOWING IT. ENOUGH IS ENOUGH.
THE EDUCATIONAL SYSTEM NEEDS A COMPLETE RESET.  OUR CHILDREN ARE BEING TAUGHT TO RELY ON AI INSTEAD OF THEIR OWN BRAIN AND POWER.
OUR MOST ANCIENT HISTORY NEEDS TO BE REWRITTEN AND TAUGHT TRUEFULLY.
OUR UNIVERSE IS AN ABUNDANT PLACE WITH PLENTY FOR EVERYONE HOWEVER WE ARE BEING STACKED ON TOP OF EACH OTHER LIKE SARDINES IN A CAN. ENOUGH IS ENOUGH.
LET US DEMAND ACCESS TO THE TECHNOLOGY WITHELD FROM US FOR DECADES; A HEALTHIER WAY TO GROW PLENTY OF FOOD FOR THE PLANET. WE NEED AN ECONOMICAL& EFFICIENT WAY TO DESALINATE THE OCEAN’S WATERS AND WATER SHOULD BE PURE AND FREELY AVAILABLE TO ALL.
LET US HONOR TESLA AND GIVE EVERYONE ACCESS TO ELECTRICITY AND WIRELESS WI-FI. STOP LYING TO US ABOUT THE OIL RUNNING OUT JUST TO RAISE THE PRICES AT THE POMPS AND MAKE MILLIONS ON US.
WE HAVE MANY ALTERNATIVES TO OIL; GREENER AND MORE ECONOMICAL THAT WOULD BENEFIT US ALL.
MORTGAGE AND CREDIT ARE ENTRAPMENT DEVICES USED TO KEEP US ENSLAVED AND IN DEBT. ENOUGH IS ENOUGH.
LODGING SHOULD BE AVAILABLE AND AFFORDABLE FOR EVERYONE AND RELATIVE TO OUR INCOME OR SERVICE.
BIG PHARMA (BIG MAFIA) NEEDS TO GIVE PLACE TO NATURAL AND ALTERNATIVE MEDICINE, NOT JUST APPEASING THE SYMPTOMS BUT HEADING TOWARDS TOTAL HEALING. STOP POISONING US, ENOUGH IS ENOUGH.
THE COUNTRY IS DEEP IN DEBTWITH HIGH UNEMPLOYMENT AND HOMELESSNESS AND WHAT DOES THE GOVERNMENT DO, SEND OUT MILLIONS OF $ TO HELP OTHER COUNTRIES??? ENOUGH IS ENOUGH.
WITH OUR SCIENTIFIC ADVANCEMENT REGARDING TELOMERES, WE NOW HAVE THE KEY TO PROLONGE LIFE AND SO THE ELITE WILL EVENTUALLY SELLS US TIME OR LONGEVITY IF WE DO NOT STAND TOGETHER AND SAY “ENOUGH IS ENOUGH”.
WE NEED TO REINTEGRATE THE “DIVINE FEMININE” ENERGY INTO OUR SOCIETY ALLOWING FOR THE CREATIVE ENERGY TO MANIFEST POSITIVE AND BEAUTIFUL CHANGES FOR OUR WORLD.
WE ARE ASKING FOR OUR BIRTH RIGHTS AND TO BE HAPPY AND OF ONE CONSCIOUSNESS WITH ALL.
WE CAN UNITE AND SHOW OUR DISATISFACTION; ENOUGH LIES, GREED, VIOLATIONS, ABUSE, MURDERS,GENOCIDE, INSTILLING FEAR, RACISM AND TREATING PEOPLE LIKE CATTLE.
ENOUGH IS ENOUGH.

— The End —