"oceanless" poems
Candleabra's flickering flames
cast a shimmering dancing
shadow of me,
upon my golden coffer overhead,
brought about by a sudden gust
of window-wind... God's finger-breeze...
Master airy-finger puppeteer
you are
dance the leaves
about my Autumn yard...
Push and stir
soft light newly blanketed wintry snow
on lifting eddies,
causing flying fancy, barnyard dancer's dos-a-dos
among infinitesimal,
and featherweight
delicately frozen
crystal-looking flakes...
Push tiny tango waves
upon reflected sparkling silvery lakes
that crest s l i d e then fall
And spectator trees
that enciricle about the watery ballroom-lake
surface-floor,
then with airy fingertips
clap, clap together
the loudly whispering and rustling leaves
that applaud
the watery dancing waves below...
And with windy fingertips
sail white billowing cotton like
vapor-sails
across an unplowable
oceanless
spatial blue...
Glad God
You mostly are
puppeteer of every star
Dance sundries of objects
on your play-ball planet
and puppet-likened stage
And let me laugh
in zestful rage
about danceable things
that can be danced,
that can be danced
on windy-finger days...
Sep 17, 2014
Sep 17, 2014 at 3:09 PM UTC
Shouldn't we see the world for what it is? Whether the land as barren as an oceanless sea or a forest thick with shrubs and trees of green and wildlife prouncing about. Can we not take what we want if we both want the same? What are miles as the crow flies and leopards roam? Are we not creatures of the flesh? We should ravish these bodies in the blistering sun of our own making; it would be so easy.
It's like the world has stopped turning, and yet the birds still sing. We are silent. The nights and days grow longer; we know it's only a matter of time. It slips. The time slips, and we are complicit in its passing over us. We are frozen and complacently lost in the reveries of the words caught in our lungs.
I am asking every question I can. Why now? Why should I long for something which I do not yet know? Yet I do. We kick up dust in our rhetorical dance, and it is only the steady rain of the passing days that can settle it again.
We both have roots in places not near. What does it mean to uproot the life? A transplant to other lands, and if anything should go wrong, we might rot into the soil if only to be reborn again — we are resilient and as sure as a passing day. Let me water your roots where ever they choose to grow, and let me shine down to encourage where ever you choose to bloom.
May 14, 2018
May 14, 2018 at 9:30 PM UTC
Clear and crystal
So anciently old,
So brilliantly fluid
And tastelessly cold.
To coalesce in vapour
Of limitless cloud,
To fall in fat globules
Of rainfall in shroud.
To cascade through air
As a mist in the fall
Or plummet as downpour
Through Calcutta’s pall.
Gathered in puddles
To flow down a drain,
Amass as a flood
To pour across plain.
To playfully tumble
From mountains of shard,
To flow to the sea
Where the surf crashes hard.
A field of marigolds
Bobbing in sun,
Nurtured by moisture’s
Life giving fun.
Green grasses grow
With barley and wheat,
Through the magic administered
By wetness’s feat.
Imagine disaster’s
Protracted drought
Where dryness obliterates
Green life throughout.
Sparkling clear waterfalls,
Hard pounding surf,
Trickles of crystalline
Cascades of mirth.
Rock pools so clear
That trout can be seen
And the bone china cup of tea
Served to the Queen.
Standing in rain
As it pours from the sky
With a grin on my face
Smearing mud from my eye
With arms outstretched
And a song in my heart
For the great joy of living
This water imparts....
Water my Angel,
My priceless gem.
A waterless world
Would bring death and mayhem.
An oceanless planet
As seen from the moon,
Would lack life giving blueness
And be hued in gloom.
Sweet water is life
In a miraculous way,
Thus we hail the Gods
Each rain swept day.
Marshalg
Sitting by the beautiful Manukau Harbour
11 March 2011
Mar 10, 2011
Mar 10, 2011 at 1:54 PM UTC
Wasted
before I'd even tasted
Knowing
just not going
Trapped
Although
it all seemed mapped
Unable
was it all
just another fable?
Alone
and very much grown
A shell
in an oceanless hell
Tired
even while wired.
Unhappy
Since birth
Life has been ******
Existing while
also resisting
Cold
just craving a
Lover to hold
Done
over before
I have begun
YOU KNOW
Spun!!
Sep 10, 2015
Sep 10, 2015 at 9:47 PM UTC
The purple haze,
A shade too dark,
As day loses it's light.
Darkness falls,
Throughout the world,
An ode to lost love tonight.
I see the waves,
From oceanless lands,
A mirage, a beautiful lie.
I see the distance,
And see no end,
An endless void, the fright.
The crest and trough,
Of this quite song,
Love lost to sight.
A teardrop falls,
The building blocks,
Of salty bodies of life.
Jan 22, 2018
Jan 22, 2018 at 2:32 AM UTC
A silver lining
crosses an endless horizon
deep silence echoes
over a waveless shore
I inhale the stillness
and it breathlessly welcomes me
wandering leisurely
into the stream
adrift in oceanless tides
beyond the boundless edges
escaping time
the voiceless in everything
whispers to me
“you are the threading of this tapestry
unveil its serenity”
and the verity of love
became me
Aug 9, 2019
Aug 9, 2019 at 8:58 AM UTC