"oceanfront" poems
I
I stole my brother’s car and drove to Phoenix in the dark.
The blue-green glow of dashboard gauges, the biting scent
of roadkill and desert marigolds. Tap. Tap. Tap.
Insects slapping the windshield, incipient rain.
Keep driving. Drive until the sun blooms.
II
Some days were more dire than others. CCTV footage confirms
I pawned a shotgun, a Gibson guitar, and my wife’s engagement
ring at the pawnshop next to Fatty’s Tattoo parlor on MLK Boulevard.
The typographically accurate Declaration of Independence
inscribed on my back also confirms this.
III
I ran the tilt-a-whirl at the Ashtabula county fair,
fattening up on fried Oreos and elephant ears,
twisting behind tent ***** with a one-armed
contortionist with strawberry-blonde hair.
IV
I derailed in a dive bar.
V
I disappeared in a city lit by lavender streetlights,
where buildings blotted out the stars and the traffic
signals kept perfect time. I picked through trash bins.
I paid for love with drugstore wine.
VI
I closed my eyes on a mountain road.
The sheriff extracted me from a ****** snowbank.
VII
I holed up for weeks in an oceanfront motel, dazed
by the roar of the breakers. Each morning I drew
back the curtains and lost myself
in the crisscrossing patterns of whitecaps,
the synchronous flight of sanderlings above the dunes.
I dreamed of dead horseshoe ***** rolling in with the tide.
VIII
The moon over my shoulder
tightened into focus like a spotlight.
One night the barking dogs undid me.
I caved in to the candor of a naked mattress.
I grew my beard, an insomniac in a jail cell,
clinging to bars the color of a morning dove.
IX
I coveted the house keys of strangers.
X
I opened and closed many doors.
I sang into the mouths of storm drains.
I stepped out of many rooms only
to find myself in the room I just left.
Despite all my leaving, I remained.
Sep 21, 2018
Sep 21, 2018 at 1:45 PM UTC
Contrary to popular belief
Nothing romantic is ever hopeless.
Although some things are
So improbable, that they remain dreams.
But, our dreams never die,
They live until we pass.
Until then I will dream,
Of my own private island.
With an oceanfront mansion,
That is filled with love and song.
With white sand beaches,
For midnight strolls, and moonlit kisses.
I'll always be romantic,
But I'll never be hopeless.
How can I be hopeless,
While I still know love.
Aug 13, 2012
Aug 13, 2012 at 6:31 AM UTC
*There's no place else I'd rather be,
Then wrapped in silence, near the sea,
Upon the serenities, of the oceans aquamarine waters,
With waves gently dancing, as I sit and wander.
Gazing on the sandy oceanfront,
Beneath the moonlight, with you on the beachfront,
As you place your hands, upon my face,
And kiss my lips, until the night fades.
While the stars, sparkle in the sky,
Until the rose pink light of dawn, comes by,
With echoes of a tender breeze,
And you and I, are heavenly at peace.*
Apr 26, 2014
Apr 26, 2014 at 3:11 PM UTC
step into the surf.
waves surge over your ankles,
unexpected speed, threatening push.
wade thigh-deep on sea legs,
digging your toes into the sand,
timing your steps with the waves
as earth and moon play tug-of-war.
the drop-off slingshots your heart into your throat.
making slow progress to the ******* --
you're unfamiliar with this marine rhythm.
the ocean knows you don't belong on this dance floor.
stand up, fighting riptide, undertow.
side-tackle weakened waves
hitting the ******* like brick walls,
each an oceanic supernova with whitecaps imploding.
surrender to one,
let it ****** your feet from under you,
immerse you in its raging swansong.
it traveled a thousand miles to die
on this insignificant strip of coastline.
Jan 13, 2015
Jan 13, 2015 at 11:37 PM UTC
we wanted to buy a house
with an oceanfront view
so we could lounge
on our wrap around
porch
and listen to the seagulls.
that was before
fragile hope was
cast away
and dashed against rocks,
sinking beneath waves.
May 7, 2013
May 7, 2013 at 4:14 PM UTC
Let us make a trip
Let us visit the ocean coast,
Where the hot sand will touch our bare feet
Where our toes will get covered by sand and dust
Walking on the shore from noon till dusk.
The waves will come,
and we will run
The waves will go,
and we'll approach
There, the sun will glow,
there, between the orange sky and the blue liquid
creating an illuminating path to its heart.
Quick, let's run! The waves aren't that far!
Holding hands, as the waves hit us
and water sprinkles over our bodies, we recede
to our butt-made sand seats.
Though the sun may blind my eyes,
with you by my side I'd like to watch and say farewells and goodbyes.
Apr 15, 2013
Apr 15, 2013 at 10:42 PM UTC
Some puff a blunt
On an oceanfront
Seeing the world from a different view
As they get lifted
Others drink from the bottle
Like they just hit the lotto
With tomorrow never comes as their motto
But a select few,
Choose to pick a pen
And write their feelings away
Which in turn makes the reader feel some type of way
Mar 21, 2016
Mar 21, 2016 at 7:13 PM UTC
Can he still hear the summer songs?
And recall the times that are gone?
Their footprints were etched on the wet sand,
As they walked the shore hand-in-hand.
Dawn broke over the ocean blue,
Splashing the horizon with golden hue.
She held him close and softly kissed.
The waves rushed and washed their feet.
Now, when he walks on the oceanfront,
Can he still hear the summer songs?
On the silent nights under the starlit sky,
In a desolate beach two lovers would lie.
To her a melodious song he would sing,
Telling of the moons and stars he could bring.
Now when he wakes in the middle of night
And looks at the face of his beautiful bride
Does he recall the nights that are gone,
And the one to whom he sung the songs?
Mar 29, 2016
Mar 29, 2016 at 7:04 AM UTC
Somedays I am a ship which sails
No lull or shore could raise me to the ocean floor
When I am on a swell
And yet somedays I’m lost on an oceanfront
Floating
Floating
Still
Dec 10, 2019
Dec 10, 2019 at 11:30 AM UTC