"foreshore" poems
Can the unstoppable force overcome the immovable object? The waves have been a teacher with more wisdom than any I have ever had before. Something so constant, so committed, so unflappable as the lapping or crashing of the waves upon the shore. If you need any evidence of her relentless nature, look no further than the foreshore, great boulders and cliff faces worn down to grit. A true mechanical entity, with precise surety, well versed in engineering, mathematics, weather patterns and fluid dynamics. Who would have thought a philosophical question would have an engineering solution? The answer is no, but the question lacks precision, it doesn't quite paint the picture as it happens. I dive into the crashing waves, stretched out long, offering no resistance, the wash thunders around me but still I glide forward in the water like a shark, no resistance. I am the immovable object. Suspended weightless I overcome the unstoppable force by holding ground, offering no resistance as it rages around and past me, trying to capsize me or push me backwards. The way of the seas, the ultimate peacemaker.
The parallels to life do not need pointing out thus, especially to those who fight for justice, the Davids versus their Goliaths. History's great peacemakers have been here before, the art of war is in passive resistance, principled adherence coupled with civil disobedience, your silence is considered tacit acceptance, so be not silent but give unto Caesar that which is Caesars. The fight is an uphill playing field, you must play by their rules, or the game is over, but you can win by their rules if you know where they bend. So stand peacemakers, face rows of riot shields, plow fields as Te Whiti did, collect salt as Gandhi, be not silent, tip toe that fine line between real change and hard time, wherever you see injustice speak, and seek conciliation. Peace is not achieved when nations put down their guns, peace is achieved when people embrace their neighbors as their brothers and sisters. It is achieved when people no longer speak of peace with longing in the same breath as cursing the person that parked in their carpark. Be peace and you will see peace, wish not to see it in the world if you cannot be it in your world. Change yourself and the world changes with you. So can the unstoppable force overcome the immovable object? That much is up to you.
Dec 18, 2012
Dec 18, 2012 at 7:15 PM UTC
B-E-N-J-I
Come on you're way outta line
Hey, Hey
Say Hey
Out on the foreshore
Looking for some more Y'all
Come on you *****
Get out on the dance floor
Call for some more Y'all
Take me to the mall
Thinking bout you walking down the hall
For sure
Hey give me that
Picking up that shat
Put it under the mat
Ha...Ha, **** That!
I ain't no gangsta
Just a Prankster
Just wanna thank ya
For listening to my crap ya
Gotcha in the middle bit
Working for a Lil bit
Did ya see that ***
Y'all gotta go
Y'all wanna know
Where do I come from
Where is ma show
Yo Gotta Know
Yeah I Love you to
Playing it single
Looking for some insults
Running from my result
Of being an adult
Just wanna let you know
I think ya mums a ***
Oh, oh **** ya wanna blow
I'll show you where to go
There he is now you know
Ya ******* wanna throw a punch
But I'll eat ya for ma lunch
Come on bring me down
And I'll take you downtown
Oh No what the **** you know
Ya know nothing and that's how it goes
Whoa, whoa!
Back up the chorus
It's not all for us
It's all for one
But I'm not done yall
I ain't no gangsta
Just a Prankster
Just wanna thank ya
For listening to my crap ya
Gotcha in the middle bit
Working for a Lil bit
Did ya see that ***
Y'all gotta go
Y'all wanna know
Where do I come from
Where is ma show
Yo Gotta Know
Yeah I Love you to
They call me Benny
Just got change from a twenty
Y'all know so many
Wanna get me
But now you see
They all wanna leave
Because I ain't all that great
But still, they wait
Another rhyme on my hands
But I can't defend
Every man on this
God Forsaken Land
Show Me Where
I can put ma hands
On ya body
Can't touch me
I ain't no gangsta
Just a Prankster
Just wanna thank ya
For listening to my crap ya
Gotcha in the middle bit
Working for a Lil bit
Did ya see that ***
Y'all gotta go
Y'all wanna know
Where do I come from
Where is ma show
Yo Gotta Know
Yeah I Love you to
One More Time Y'all
One for the money
Two for the show
Three to get ready
And **** you to
I ain't no gangsta
Just a Prankster
Just wanna thank ya
For listening to my crap ya
Gotcha in the middle bit
Working for a Lil bit
Did ya see that ***
Y'all gotta go
Y'all wanna know
Where do I come from
Where is ma show
Yo Gotta Know
Yeah I Love you to
©2017 Written By Benji James
Jun 14, 2017
Jun 14, 2017 at 5:04 AM UTC
I
here alone apart
I realise
we are marked by the tide’s turn
and that drawing back
long aching inhalations
intakes of more than breath:
the very filling of lungs
with white and various
sounds
of beach
of foreshore
floating
in the heavy air.
Its constantness,
everywhere
together
its everywhere and together
oneness,
though with such difference
scoured into the sand
by weather’s hand
by the wind’s rough play.
II
Shield the eyes
against the glare
against the pressing wind
spinning down and past us
out of the light noon-distant high-sunned
light,
glancing the tips of bejewelled waves,
dancing, only to fall to translucent hollows,
only to rise and follow
the wave before itself,
that, even now and finally,
breaks into a foamed lace,
a fragile flower spreading
across the sand and shore,
a coverlet for this bared flesh of land,
wet glossy shiny sun-lit wet,
yet drying beneath our gaze,
leaving the infinitely-tiny
grains of sand’s
dew to glisten,
to sparkle.
III
No pathways here
after the entrance
of footprints splayed
down the slight dune
through the ammophila
down to the hard sand the littered stone.
Only up and down
across perhaps
to the sea - from the sea.
Otherwise it’s up:
to sunward windward,
out out along the jigged line
of surf meeting sand,
a self-similarity,
a symmetry breaking on the shore.
Jul 2, 2013
Jul 2, 2013 at 3:24 PM UTC
Birds came and pecked through the silver top,
popping their beaks in
for a dribble of milk,
it was cold then,
back in the old days
not so anymore.
And the slow light of the glow worm that could turn a bird in mid flight would send sparse light, but enough light as if enough light was a feast.
The snowmen in the garden that stood under the clothes line looked perfect with two buttons sewed into their eyes until the thaw came and they melted like our hearts did when they went away and the days grew even longer after that.
The frogspawn burst into tadpoles became black comma's in the pond and the herons flew like spitfire aircraft,
how daft we laughed and gaily played as if the season would last forever and tomorrow would never come.
Mr's Brown is Bobby coming out to play today?
Then Bobby went away,
taken by leukemia that crept in silently and took him quietly and still we squandered the fading sunlight.
On the dullest of days when the bagpiper plays and a darkness comes into my heart,
I stand there, out on the foreshore, waiting for emptiness
and wanting no more.
Sep 26, 2015
Sep 26, 2015 at 3:27 AM UTC
Fraught with ginger headlights blowing
Down the wind that keeps you knowing
About the lost temptation longed for
From the highland town on the foreshore,
We see a dark presence engulf
What was once a mere meeting post
Of ornaments and statues speaking out
To all that hear them scream and shout.
Tiring from the overtime unpaid
The pretty ladies fade away
Dreading the fifth movement of the piece,
Though waiting as though ill at ease
Along the back decks of the seventh sage
Never longing or showing their grace
The forever lost again find a place.
Sep 24, 2013
Sep 24, 2013 at 7:50 AM UTC
There's sweetness in the crisp of morning
There's promise at the start of day,
Bird song in the trees about me
Heralds life and all's OK !
Howling down the hill on cycle
Feel the blast of wind on face
Give a yell of joy for living
Age on bike and bike at pace!
Sunshine falls upon the meadow
Flowers bobbing in the breeze,
Pukekos with tails a-bouncing
Sheep graze on with studied ease.
Spraying gravel in my corners
Pedals pump as fast as can,
Huffing, puffing, loving morning
"Hello" to a jogging man.
Wheel the bike around the corner
Grind these pedals up the hills
Winding down to see the shore birds
Flock to land with squarking bills.
Young girls laughing, dark eyes dancing
Striding down the foreshore track,
Fresh loveliness in lycra shorts,
They laugh and wave, I wave right back.
Happiness in brilliant morning
Cycling to a sweaty stop,
Relaxing under shady awning
Love my favourite coffee shop.
Marshalg
@the estuary
Mangere Bridge
13 February 2010
Feb 12, 2010
Feb 12, 2010 at 12:02 PM UTC
gulls with crows fly high
cicadas rasp deafening
wasps and flying ants
forage over the parched ground
neath blue sky and ragged clouds
among the twisted oak trees
that dot the parched field of gold
by the sea by the graveyard
on the point on the foreshore
in the heat in the west wind
i walk staring out to sea
breathing the salty air
dreaming and alone
Jun 20, 2016
Jun 20, 2016 at 1:16 PM UTC
Living on the road of empty hearts and broken homes.
Got married with a curtain ring.
Ten years ago last Wednesday.
The bride wore royal blue, fashionable thing to do.
She crawled along in heels so high.
Snotty nose sniffing the sky.
Child one came along, I think she said his name was John.
Hated school had no friends.
Hated everyone.
Not her only son.
There after came a daughter,
A pretty gal they named Sapphire.
A gem of a name for a shabby chick.
Soon weighed down with a band of cold.
Got married to a Mormon, who thought he was a merman.
Believed together the two of them had some kind of future.
Played at architecture building castles in the sky.
And playing on the for sure (foreshore) beside the sea of obsolete dreams.
Delivered to the two of them a childish whim.
A child who grew and developed an addiction to sin.
He loved tea and coffee,wine, women and song.
From the broken home he was gone.
The sky castles evaporated,
Family dreams disintegrated.
Dissolution of dreams.
Welcome to austerity.
(c) Livvi
Mar 29, 2015
Mar 29, 2015 at 8:11 AM UTC
My lifeblood is set adrift from the foreshore bottom land of Camp Creek .. To mingle with her fauna , patiently transfixed with the finality of life
giving sea ...Bound for the salted waters of coastal Georgia , longing for the surety of the Atlantic's welcome embrace , for the solace of shrieking gulls , the camaraderie of sea oat and white sands , for the first rays of her morning Sun ...
Mar 2, 2016
Mar 2, 2016 at 4:23 PM UTC
As I slipped inside the sliding doors,
In silence, I roamed, the reticent floors,
Searching for an impeccable book.
With open eyes, alone, I looked.
Covers as bright as lemon zest
Glittered like gold amongst the rest.
Each blurb I perused, with bated breath,
To find those that sparkled, had no depth.
I placed them gently, upon the shelves,
To patiently wait amongst themselves.
I knew that they would discover their place,
Within the warmth of another’s embrace.
Deep beneath each cover lies
A soul to read: to accept, defy?
With battered heart and broken mind,
I longed for the book I couldn’t find.
Eyes downcast upon the floor,
I chanced upon an open door.
For there you were, on darker ground,
Waiting, like a dog at a pound.
Your cover worn, and pages frayed;
Intrigued to see how you were made.
Open mind, I removed my doubt,
And with my card, I took you out.
Others scoffed, at my aberrant choice
To them, my disgust, I had to voice;
They only saw your beaten cover,
But I read deep; now I’m your lover.
My love has blossomed, though sometimes we fight.
We can’t always agree on what is right.
But in the end, our lover’s quarrel,
Has taught me yet, another moral.
Although your pages are black and white,
Does not mean, that you are always right.
I feel that there are shades of grey;
That everyone should have their say.
Each night I spend with you in bed,
Helps me rest my somnolent head;
Dreaming of lands I’ve never been
And people that I’ve never seen.
You show me sunsets, on the foreshore,
Make me giggle, whilst the seagulls soar.
A range of emotions you elicit;
No path in my mind, do you prohibit.
Now I, take you, to be my guide,
As man takes woman to be his bride;
For you wrote deep on the tablet of my heart,
I shall treasure you forth, ‘til death do us part.
Jan 13, 2012
Jan 13, 2012 at 12:17 PM UTC
_Springing
from sequestered
splendour,
carved
out by
ancient tributaries;
Receiving,
streaming,
flowing
with
the current
of experience;
Through
the floodplains
of my sorrows,
to the
foreshore of
my dream time;
A river
of breath,
a watershed
of meaning,
consciousness
in spate._
Dec 24, 2020
Dec 24, 2020 at 8:54 PM UTC
the waters have smoothed due to ebbing
and we know they will swell again
and become turbulent in their time.
and this foreshore will be consumed by Man,
no less consumed by that which drives him.
utilization, degradation, cheap labor cost.
Aug 4, 2012
Aug 4, 2012 at 4:09 AM UTC
I climbed down through coastal scrub
Sandstone nub and turkey scratch,
Purposefully counted into the hundreds
And then became distracted for caution
And for possible misstep. On safe arrival
The foreshore held its mysteries
Within the wash and cliff and ancient sands
I did not inquire or pause to study, yet committed and turned again to climb knowing afore each rise I would descend
Martinos @ 2018
Jan 20, 2018
Jan 20, 2018 at 10:00 PM UTC
The Atlantic howls
Wet and windy
Boughs and branches bending.
The sea a stew
Of white foam
Against the black abyss
Deep in the moving bowels of the ocean
Is a calling.
A restless voice like reeds ripping the wind
Beckoning you to the foreshore
Torn from rest, you are pulled
As the wind places its magnet on the buttons of your nightshirt
Tossing your coat off the hook to clothe you
The tide pulls your feet
Step by quickening step
Towards the sand
Only now can you
Stop to gaze at the clouds
Scudding across the moon
Like flounder across the seabed.
All rages around you
And yet, silence descends
Like the ringing of tinnitus in your ears
And you are told what it is you are called to hear...
Nov 16, 2018
Nov 16, 2018 at 1:13 PM UTC
coasting at the coast
cape runaway
beckons
just past the breaks
summer morning vista
seen from our bed
through sleepy
summer holiday eyes
still
I can see the foam
crashing on the rocks
that feed the churn
between the capes landfall
and rocky outcrop
I remember the thrill
first time I steered us
around those rocks
the strong current pulling
and rocking the boat
you too ******
to navigate us safely
first time I'd driven the boat
I remember
the powerful engines(2 twins)
straining against
the undertow
trying to pull us into
a rocky jagged death
you were oblivious
kept sliding your hand up my thigh
I could feel the bow
dipping toward the crag
then the boat being tossed
toward equally rocky foreshore
it was a push me pull you dance
you blissfully ignorant
hammered
reaching for another cold one
one hand trying to find a way
inside my shorts
I remember
having to put it in reverse
full throttle
then cut it quick
to roll out of the pit
with the flow of the undertow
then gun it to clear water
I remember
being mesmerised
enticed
by the eddied
turbulent water
I remember
thinking
I could just let it go
and dive overboard
alone
a strong sea swimmer
trained surf life saver
I remember
looking
seeing
the path through the rips
counting the beats
between the crashing waves
knowing
I could easily make it
alone
I'd swum through pain before
my shoulder still burned
you almost ripped it
out of the socket
my fingers traced the lump
and fissure
under my hair line
where you'd smashed my head
into the wooden door frame
over
and
over
your fist a handful
of my hair
seeing stars and tweety birds
tasting blood
from biting my lip
and my tongue
staying on my feet
refusing to crumple
before you
Christmas night
before we left for the coast
boxing day morning
at 6am
I remember
thinking
I don't love you anymore
I remember
thinking
youve made
a slaughterhouse
of our love
I remember
thinking
I'm better than you
than this urge
to hurt you back
so you'd understand
how deep you hurt me
I remember
thinking
I don't want to be like you
and steering us
both
safely home.
J.C. 13/09/2019. 12.22 am (Friday 13th)
Sep 12, 2019
Sep 12, 2019 at 8:33 AM UTC