Alien among aliens,
Fanning delicate fins to promenade
A prim coquette and starchy cavalier
Trimmed and tined in ossein finery,
Sipping shrimp cocktails, dancing demure
Circles before blushing coral courts,
Holding hinds in groves of turtle grass
Until the paisley bodies
Bump bellies, and she imbues his pocket
With inklings marooned in dreaming Pegasus.

Smile and lay your sorrows at the foot of the Earth ,
Climb the highest tree and shoot across the blue like your favorite bird..
Grab the Crescent Moon , swing like an Olympian effortlessly ,
Swan dive with confidence into warm tropical seas ...
Swim to the Coral reefs to say hello , saddle a dolphin at the surface then off you go ..Blue seahorses and red catfish , float like a Pelican to the white sand beach ..Tip toe through the green grass , dance a jig , find another tall tree and do it again* ..

As I walk along the sea of life
I pass the soft blue water
against the pale blue sky
I think of the sea creatures,
the ducks, the seagulls,
the seahorses and starfish
the myriad array of shells and stones
bringing me gems of wisdom...
The carefree breeze as the
water splashes on the shore
relaxing and renewing me...
I meditate on the serene tides
bringing me calm and focus

The sea is intense but still
as it enters my inner
and outer worlds,
but even though there
is an end somewhere -
it seems like an eternity...

Evelyn loved her seahorse
Popped it in a bowl to swim
The seahorse liked the water
Made the little girl grin.

After all that playing
She wrapped it in a towel
Put it in a casket
To sleep for a while.

Evelyn watched her seahorse
Until it was time for tea
She gave it fishes on a plate
The seahorse was so pleased.

Now in the land of seahorses
Anything can be
So Evelyn found it a friend
Now there are three.

The seahorses have their own castle
With shells and flowers and beads
There are mermaids to look after them
But they can do as they please.

When Evelyn goes to bed
The seahorses are quite good
And never make a noise
This being understood.

The leaves fall in September, during the festivals. They dissipate, reintegrate into vivid little vespers that bob and levitate on gusts of wind that leave one bristling. The ferris wheel looks like an electric celestial ferry, set ablaze and bound for distant dimensions, man with mutated mohawk green, eyes wretched, livid and obscene, was the maniacal who manned it. Glow stick ghouls, with faces smeared americana snow cone red and blue haunt the parking lot, purple precipitate that hisses as it hits the pavement the product of their incessant chanting, pulling fuzz-lined warmth from my marrow. Under the stadium lights, women tighten their scarves as tiny, cerulean seahorses shimmer and dance with the ebb and flow of their jewel studded breath, retreating, giggling like immortal birds fallen from the nest.
Love is paper mache; a pop culture artifact. Like a stuffed hare that seems to have lost its ability to come to life after one loses their virginity. It has long legs and keen ears. It's very fast and would be quite handsome as well if it wasn't so **** helpless. It has been bred into the fibers of contact, the filter we set on lust, the way recycled cans make castles on lily pads and dead skin makes dust. We are swirling around in its whirlpool, if it wasn't drowning us we would be dead by now, same goes for the mad, mangy men who will count their teeth with their dimes and pick at their scabs, finger their sores, the retired professor who was too clever to have ever been faithful, the mockingbird that sings on my windowsill every morning in French, the mailmen and the dogs who bark at them in Quebec. An obsessive complex affords one the privilege of straightening the line, counting in time and putting the rabbit en route.
If it is the case that detachment follows from distance then I am one cactus length away (average, or medium sized cactus of course) from destroying the moon's mezzanine, housing all of the dreams behind ethereal, Egyptian, colored crystal that a pagan god stole from a black hole, never intended for you or me.

it's a lot harder than you think.

you have to be from the South, like me
or the North, like I want to be
or somewhere entirely more interesting than Dallas
and you have to have the ginger gene
(because there's no way I'm having
blonde children)
and you have to like aquariums
specifically the seahorses

don't wear too much cologne or
pastels and don't ever smell like
frat parties, barbecue, or beer
and DON'T ever say that ballet is stupid.

you have to ask before we choose
the restaurant because I don't eat Italian
or Thai or Greek or Subway
and you have to hold the door open for me
even if we're in my own room.

listen to my monologues for class
and rattled-off to-do lists
as you lazily push the basket
and I grab it from you because you're going too slow
and mockingly call you a princess

know that I am busy, VERY busy
in fact so busy that I may not see you
because I am an independent woman
and there are stories to be built, dragons to be slayed,
and there are things my hands must finish
before I can start on holding yours

make fun of my Crocs
and the way I hiccup out of nowhere
and the days that I don't have time to eat breakfast
so I bring a Fuzzy's cup to class
full of off-brand Cap'n Crunch
shoving handfuls into my mouth between
snide remarks about Morrison
while you laugh inside your eyes
about what a cynic I pretend to be

hate me when I tell you
that I don't need a hug
and that I'd rather be dating Hemingway
or that I have rehearsal
painting cities, building histories

ignore my comments about you needing to shave
or on how I think I'd rather I'd never get married
and live the rest of my days writing stories
with organic vegetables and rainy days and
walks in the Carolinas

call me a ***** when I'm being one
(because I know I am about 97% of the time)
and tell me you would help me
if I would ever let you
whether it be Christmas lights or
physics lab or the gnawing pain
of lonely lonely lonely

let me read my books, propped up on
my pillows and nestled into a glaze
and let me have my expectations
of Rochesters and Darcys
even though I say I don't
and when I have to sew a blanket for class
and I say the stitching looks awful
tell me no, it doesn't
because I desperately want you
to know that my favorite color is lavender
and I love watermelon and stationery and
online shopping at 2 am
and I desperately want to know
your elementary school, your favorite song,
your middle name
even though I pretend I don't

and sometimes when I say I'm right
and you know that I know I'm wrong
just pick up your spirals and turn to leave,
then stop and say
"my favorite book is Gatsby, too."

and smile and call me crazy.

it's a lot easier than you think.

Here come Jupiter child,
You can hear the flowers crying as they plead for her to stay a while,
She just collided with and intergalactic asteroid,
But things were only created never destroyed,
In the dark cool tunnels she found some pretty moon shrooms,
sheltering growing seahorses wrapped in loose water droplet cocoons,
Now towards earth you hear her come,
Within the clouds she beats her tribal drums,
The ocean sways and swells to the time of her rhythm and sound,
Reaching deep into the sea forest to whales traveling homebound,
She wears stars framed in turquoise,
Like the kokopelli she gives birth to planets with grace and poise,
Here comes Jupiter child, dread locks wound with comets,
extracts from the universe, she mixes matter-less tonics,
Recipes rooted deep in wizardry,
she borrows knowledge from indians and aztecs to cure all misery,
Her meteor showers made of her salty tears,
Are earth's dream catcher, snaring all nighttime fears.

yet another year zero
reinventing the squeaky wheel
constrained writing just for kicks
reviving a tragic hero
tabula rasa and leaky spiel
trained for fighting prickly ******
hollowing future and reticulating splines
swallowing nature then duplicating rhymes
only a blank drawing
at a bank withdrawing
funds splashing down like acid rain
workers trashing town with great disdain
fluxing bureaucracy
with ad hoc hypocrisy
go country for old zen
and then
shot glass shopping sprees
statues with haunting verdigris
from target to target
the stupid (never forget)
airport shuttles and toxic puddles
epic riddles while popping bottles
thrusting bodies and a fruity box
alternating current and topic drift
trusting hotties with shuttlecocks
baiting adherent with basic *****
eating that dog in a bar by the ditch
bar all rowdy with many shots taken
beer hall drowsy as closing time looms
far too loudly with identity mistaken
the band had us frankly and amply forsaken
awakening in a ditch as the a-bomb booms
a thousand soldiers ready for battle
at town's end with less depleted morals
worried about the deleted portals
we buried hell well without the cattle
no more long weeks of slicing ****** meat
origins about which they should not care
oh to sell knockoffs to the rich elite
hear their yells and use an odd nom de guerre
the profit and the revenue forecast
**** on the new road
the prophet and the parvenue act fast
pill for the wet load
he had dropped the load leaving pungent smells
in the dark it glowed and lit the deep wells
launching a rocket every four hours
we encounter yet more perplexing times
measuring success with fewer metrics
punching the clocks in tall black towers
changing the locks and the warning signs
altering quarters with newer ethics
cannibals watched while we profusely bled
fine forget it forget it forget it
ingest the capsule to induce the sweat
just relieve don't botch
figure figure figure
don't bereave think scotch
ticker ticker ticker
sounded like it came from someone shady
getting beat to end with some other blend
year to date murders now about eighty
yet today's statistics lie and pretend
fudging the digits to fake the assent
so what happened last week stays in last week
all of those painful jarring sights and sounds
making it all seem to look rather bleak
kept sly with pennies and kept shrewd with pounds
on alibaba we will not delete
separated heads from dark desert towns
metropolis with millions of dark souls
lighting up papers for a rapid trip
necropolis with brilliant harkening trolls
fighting the power in order to strip
their medals that they never earned at all
writing this line here and ******* the fall
straightforward message from a plain green rod
a photographer in obscure disguise
throw him into the main canal and nod
the coffee shop looks banal with just guys
losing interest quick and wanting to dip
touching that shiny pink wide-open clip
unknown underground studded with diamonds
mind-blowing trap sounds burst from the caliph
volume gets higher and heads start to ring
they came in sequence and then came silence
waking up confused in a condo lift
taking refuge in an ugly building
just invited myself into your home timeline
somewhat sublime reciting trifling rhymes
alter rhyming scheme to eschew couplets
now fully mobile and automatic
pentameter schemes and android tablets
tents and suburbs that look quite nomadic
recruited minions for the rebellions
human microphones sans inhibitions
quicken resistance to the man's big plan
invoking the crowd to buck traditions
spell that with an accent with great élan
broken mobile phone texting hexagram
a rapid drop in communication
a postal service mailing vexing spam
token for transit lost at the station
we can no longer go back to the farm
here in the city living these last days
sounding the airhorn and the fire alarm
seahorses as fish and whales as mammals
hard to keep track here of various things
went to the desert and smoked some camels
patient zero died sounding the alert
some will paint dark scenes with exigent themes
paintings so dire that your eyes avert
inverse distance decay in the network
old flags questing through the flood and tumult
of course these rhymes make them go **** berserk
losing sight of sites that house the occult
refusing to eat and wanting to drink
these words resonate with all those who think
utopia fell soon after completion
never understood humanity well
rationality ends with deletion
all the fine stuff just goes to *******
humans emitting alienating vibes
they form foul cliques like pups from putrid tribes
three ships all wrecked up in some unknown land
divulging harsh things and eating raw food
far too many times getting shunned and booed
had all my writings fully blocked and banned
still no dumb luck yet after x decades
recalled old friendships that have long decayed
more constrained writing that will make them groan
some will even see the trail left behind
writing all of this mostly in e-prime
punctuation-free zone made just for fun
lighting dark alleys with a mobile phone
some get all the love while others get none
***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** *****
ditch ditch ditch ditch ditch ditch ditch ditch ditch ditch
glitch glitch glitch glitch glitch glitch glitch glitch glitch glitch
kitsch kitsch kitsch kitsch kitsch kitsch kitsch kitsch kitsch kitsch
stitch stitch stitch stitch stitch stitch stitch stitch stitch stitch
twitch twitch twitch twitch twitch twitch twitch twitch twitch twitch
yesterday's blunt stunt went to the gutter
no regrets no threats no whatever man
just like autechre and that song flutter
forget the police just rave on til dawn
**** how darkness has lasted this **** long
ominous songs here still pumping along
exponential sneers and the obscene scene
existential fears lit up with benzine
socially-accepted narcissism
honest thoughts here treated with cynicism
forget all -isms / go back to the scheme
spending days like these sniffing naphthalene
won't dwank to the masses or kiss *****
temperamental peers can go live that myth
experimental stage done and over with
(pause)
*
* *
*
✝ gone to a higher place ✝

When I was borne
i was borne on the crest of a wave
and rocked by the cradle of the deep.

My mother is the tale
        of seahorses running
chariots to Atlantis!

My eyes!
My eyes are stars
      my teeth are Spars!
My hair is made
      out of seaweed.

And When;
When I spitz,
i spitz tar.  
I is tough,
I am,
I is,
I arggggg!

Frozen lips as blue as the sky after it rains.Fantasies of pink butterflies and blue seahorses in paradiseWet drops of moisture all over that half tanned skin, over those little bumps…Goose Bumps.Anger rolls through her body, so much that she wants to scream until she can’t anymore. Infuriating pain hits her like a thousand arrows in the chest. She can’t take it anymore, so she lets it all out on paper. The tears start streaming down her face with her heart in her hand. The tingling hits…Goose Bumps.The sickness arising in her while the lies fill her head. She can’t stand it So she packs up and leaves here forever…Goose Bumps…..

You pick every word I say
With rapt attention.
So I tell you about tangerine skies
In Vermont, how I shape them.
I tell you my dad invented Cuban cigars
In Argentina.

You heard about the prawns,
The ***** and the lilies. A story only I could tell.
I could tell it in fluent Yoruba.
You watch me sleep like I don't have a care in this world
Snorting away while chasing dragonflies and seahorses
In my oblivion.


You watch me walk in the shadows
My gait like gridless frames of a restless gate
blown open by the wind.
(If I was the night, I would be bright.)

Finally you see my hands well adapted to cutlasses and owes,
Irrespective experienced with oriental oils
and manicures.
'One day I will be king', I thought I said.
But you heard it from my mind.
You heard it alone.

Yesterday we owed this to ourselves.
Tomorrow we will be lovers
Today let's be friends.

Our love is like the seahorses of the vast sea,
mate with one for eternity.
Completely faithful,
proven by the way their tails never come undone while they travel the blue.
As we lay in the water
I hold your hand so we don't drift apart,
so does the otter.
As we love each other like pigs to reach that 30 minute ******,
were filthy.
We don't need to talk or see to know that the love is there,
like living beneath the grass.
Our love is connected to all.

I hear water singing,
the different musical symphonies of the rivers,
lakes and the vast ocean sea;

The sweet sorrowful song of the whale--the same song as when I first heard it,
off the edge of a boat in a yellow rain jacket when I was less than nine years old,

The children laughing as tadpoles swarm gaily around their tiny toes--the cream colored foam swallows their legs up to their knees in the orange midday sun,

The chirping of a dolphin, kissing the deep blue waves each time it leaps,

The seahorses galloping and neighing in the salt sea and the catfish purring and licking their paws in the lakes of Wisconsin and Minnesota,

The seagulls calling to the fish to leap out of the water to become breakfast,

The sobbing of the naked woman in her bathtub at home, the suds up to her pink neck--toes turning to raisins,

The deep bellowing of a cruise ship, filled with all of the people laughing inside its belly,

The ocean whispering against the sand as the moon is gazing into the largest mirror in the universe,

The sun singing loudly in the morning time, peeking above the horizon and pulling back the curtains of the night, greeting all of her lovely friends; bold, sweet, and strange.

Watch those blue shoes, being carried on the tide,
They're rolling from the water's edge,
propelled by sunlight,
lost in pain.
Once stepped over stones,
with you,
once weighed down.

See the lose broken twigs,
cruising with the tide beside them.
The shoes remember you intrinsically,
For all eternity,
Never will you be forgot,
Floating shoes,
have been released,
nearly free.
They're missing your lost kisses,
Riding ever onward,
Flowing toward home.
Being soothed and washed,
Cleansed and washed away.

They're dancing as seahorses do,
as they roam,
towards relief,
being bathed in marinated foam.
(C) Livvi

This lost princess has lost her way through swimming with sea monsters
sea monsters disguised as mermaids
mermaids who love all things humans
She was craving love and friendship
Something she was starving on land
The Princess was feeling blue
Teased and alone
How much can one take?
The Princess had enough and set herself free
The soft sand is where she is at
Ready to jump into the sea she craved
Filled with such wonderful things
Seahorses
Goldfish
You name it
The Princess felt welcomed
She arrived at a huge castle
One filled with sea shells and pebbles
She knocked on the door
A beautiful mermaid appears
The Princess stunned at his physical appearance
His upper body strength greatly impressed her
Talk after talk
A friendship was born
The trust grew
So did the secrets she told him
The Princess was no longer alone
She found her calling
In a form of a mermaid
The mermaid wanted to ask what the Land is like
She talks of bad memories and secrets
They talk
They laugh
The Princess felt loved by this new dream of hers
But the dream became a nightmare
Yet she did not know
The mermaid and the Princess stood outside
He took her hand
They Swam where the dolphins were

Swam past the sea horses
Swam straight through the goldfish
The mermaid and the Princess met his friends
They talked
They swam
Finally The Princess was tired
“I need to rest”
“I need to rest”
The Mermaid took her to a cave
Filled with sharks and other dangerous creatures
The mermaids took the Princess inside and laughed
Laughed as they took her voice away
Laughed as they tortured her
Laughed as The Princess succumbed
The lost Princess lost her way by swimming with sea monsters
Sea monsters disguised as beautiful mermaids
The Princess who was once on land
Is now laying down on the sea
No one knows where she is
No one ever saw her again.

Schools of fish
Racing to the King's submerged hold
To pass a collective wish.

A procession led
Unfathomable leagues between the sky
To the One's bed.

From her birthcry rang
Sonic upon waves in all Seas
Bringing promise she sang.

In a voice that shamed
The very Sirens, their infamy
At birth she had tamed.

Tempests brewed in
Nine Seas and in denizens thereof
The palpable rush was no illusion.

Gargantuan fissures marked
The arrival of the Prophet,
As Dogfishes in the streets barked.

Coral caves echoed
News of the Deliverer
Back across the ocean and forth.

The Princess is birthed!
Rejoice! Swim to the King!
Of enthusiasm, was no dearth.

Millions of clans
Puffer, Cat and Gold, with servants in many
*****, Oysters and Clams.

Eels, flying overhead
With Mantas in quick pursuit
Each racing to meet the beloved.

The nobility too was en route
Great White, the Hammer and Tiger
Forgetting around them, all the food.

Clownfish prepared their jokes
Animatedly chuckling at the time
The king called them funny blokes.

From every nook and corner
Of every Ocean, and Sea
Burst life even in lakes and rivers.

Drifting slow yet steady
The convergence occurred at the King's Hold.
The feast now ready.

Reef and plankton
In a million hues waved like banners
Proclaiming the  royal standard.

Seahorses stood en garde
All semblance of a heavy cavalry
Songs were sung by the Bard.

Rows upon rows
Of aquatic subjects
Gazed upwards as the Herald bellowed.

All hail King Teal!
All hail the Princess!
The citizens went mad with zeal.

They raised their arms
As the King raised his own pair
Only to raise alarm.

The babe was godly
Hair as green as kelp
Translucent flesh glowing boldly.

Every colour ever known
Etched across her fins and legs
Majestic, regal, radiating joy unknownst.

Tears diluted the currents
As the folk witnessed their saviour
And cheered in a torrent

Of squeals, laughter and shouts
Praising till the land dwellers heard them
These fanatics most devout.

Thus was the day
Naifin was born into the Sea
Queen of Oceans, she was to be.

Deep within the grass & kelp
'Neath Posidon's briney waves
A stable of seahorses live
And in the corals sway

They blend into their background
With their leafy fins
With bubble eyes
and puckered snout
They hope a mate to win!

Poseidon doesn't ride them
Tho he breaks the tallships sails
He'd rather be amused by them
Their odd shape & curling tails!

The seahorse is a character!
Who loves the shadows deep
Poseidon there hides pearls
For his seahorses to keep.

Catherine Jarvis
8/14/2019

I know Henry the VIII had six wives
   and that bees live in hives.
I know blue and yellow put together make green.
   and that the populations the biggest it's ever been.
I know the quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog
      is the greatest sentence on Earth
    And that male seahorses give birth.
I know Neil Armstrong was the
     first man on the moon
and that the dish ran away with the spoon.

I know that peanuts are present in dynamite
  and that Einstein wasn't always right.
I know you shouldn't bite off more than you can chew
  and  that Tom Crapper invented the loo.
I know that Ben Franklin flew his kite into a storm
to prove that lightening's an electrical form.
I know that goldfish have a three second memory span
   that my dad will never be a Man United fan.
I know that Eric Clapton went Knocking on Heavens door.
  and that the Swiss aren't helpful in a war.


I know the Russian Prime Minister's Vladamir Putin.
I know who discovered Penicillin
I know that seven times seven is forty nine
    and that the French enjoy their wine.
I know ostriches lay eggs bigger than their head
   and that pencils used to be made from lead.
I know flowers survive because of  photosynthesis
  and that Chuck Norris is good in a crisis.
I know that Darwin didn't say we came from apes
   and the story of 'The Great Escape. '
I know you should always let your conscience by your guide
   and the tenth main cause of death is suicide.

I know that lemon is an anagram of melon
   and that Guy Fawkes was a convicted felon.
I know that life the Universe
    and everything is forty two.
   That I'm too old to play Guess Who.
I know the reason for having a leap year .
   and that Beethoven couldn't hear.
I know Walt Disney was afraid of mice
and that Jesus made the ultimate sacrifice.

I know Pluto was stripped of it's status in 2006
and that some problems just can't be fixed.
I know Amelia Earhart was the first woman to fly a plane
that diamonds are harder than John Mc Clane.
I know that Americans dial 911 in an emergency
that more monopoly money is printed than real currency.
I know the electric chair was invented by a dentist.
And that Josef Stalin ruled with an iron fist!

I know that cats have nine lives
and that Elvis Presley could really jive
I know that no one does drugs like Charlie Sheen
that I couldn't survive a day without caffeine
I know that an insufficiency is called a dearth
and that some things cost more than their worth.
I know Neil Armstrong was the
     first man on the moon
and that the dish ran away with the spoon.

when i'd be asked in the past
'do you collect anything?'
as a child i'd feel an obligation

my friends collected buttons,
christmas ******* rings,
compiled shells,
or gas station keyrings

so i collected can tops
and squishy toys from beach side shops
pointy pointless scraps of metal
that now sit in a dusty jar
and stuffed lizards and seahorses
in a box under an old bed

and when they said
they didn't get it
i knew i didn't either
but i'd say the metal
is sentimental
it really is a keeper
honest

and now i'm older
i'm no objector
to being a collector
promise

because in a box
inside my heart
beyond the dust,
i'm honest,
i keep a stash
tied in a sash
of all the things
i've sprinkled with stardust

of all the memories
of days i loved
and too ones fogged with miseries

of scars formed from thunderstorms
for thorns are as much of a blessing
as the caressing from surrounding roses

of people who loved me
and people i despised
of eyes i glanced at once and
should i see again
would go unrecognised

for when i'm collecting moments
i am collecting lives
and there is no better way
to be alive
than revising every moment
as if it were chosen
by you
from that gas station
instead of just through obligation

In the age of aquarius I saw
In a tank of caged creatures
A pair of little seahorses.
They aren’t like in the movies,
You know.  They’re really in love.
You can tell by their tails
Which are helpfully and carefully
Joined gently as they lead and
Follow each other around the
Little space they have to share.

They say that these horses are
Both the same.  They’re male or
Female or female or male or
Maybe even just two of them.

In the room outside my doctor’s
Office, I saw a birthing seahorse.  In
Their tail, now only a pair of arms and
A warm, sleeping lap, a baby cradle
Or a breast made of prehensile love,
Was a baby horse, gasping while
Its other one was finding out their
Role.  In the cubic inches of a
Cage, it would be so simple.

They say that these horses are
Both the same.  They’re male or
Female or female or male or
Maybe even just one of them.


© Lewis Bosworth, 7/2018, revised

Out of an arid ocean you came.
Draped in kelp and pearls.
Lush lips and Picean hips
You've been a witness to
The liquid dreams of Neptune,
The lofty spires of Atlantis,
The beaded shores of
Islands unknown,
The phosphoric teeth of
Creatures never seen.
The languid swirling
Of seahorses tantalizing
The mating of tendrils...

Your rivals recline on the
Ravaged rocks... patiently
Waiting for the frigate or
Schooner, or if lucky a
***** Man-o-War. Silent
Smiles perch on their lips...
They look to the broken
Boards and driftwood around
Their rocky abodes. The
Skeletons have sunk into
The sea...

Ahoy! A tall ship, by Poseidon!
They lift their seductive voices
To draw the sailors to the
Rocks & reefs... to no avail!

The mermaids, like dolphins,
Cavortingly draw them with
Their antics to safe harbor!

Jewels adorn their swirling
Hair, and gems their tails.
Their pear-shaped *******
Modestly covered with
Glowing seaweed & shells...

While the sirens sit naked
On the rocks.


SøułSurvivør
(C) 5/27/2017

Two worlds meet as crystal waters dance to shore, tickling powdered sand with fingers of foam. The sound evokes calming sensations, perhaps revelations, before falling silent as the wave retreats. A sailing boat strokes the surface, whistling with the wind as it carves patterns, unaware of what lies beneath. Even the sun looks on in awe, as its rays gently caress the quilt of blue, congratulating its infinity. The land above, so blissfully unaware, sits and inhales salt stained air.

Beneath the clouded sky of blue, lies the ocean’s treasure chest, a beauty born of rock and sand. It offers a glimpse into its world, for the inquisitive, stuck on land. Fish of every sort dash amongst confused hues of greens and blues, gulping salt water as if it were scarce. Angelfish dart around like horizontal fireworks, while seahorses surf the foamy riptide. The sun’s rays explore the thick meadows of seagrass, that sway in slow motion to the breeze of the current. Coral castles cemented in the sand curiously poke their turrets out of the water, causing waves to trip and fall and spill their froth. This is the ocean’s natural aquarium, yet mankind still invade the shallows with camera lenses and alert senses, attempting to prove they can figure it out.  

The sea becomes weary, tired of showing off. With its final yawn, it exhales out one last chunk of rock before it falls into a deep, cold slumber. The fresh palette of turquoise has faded into shades of murky blue as the ocean’s belly is revealed. The sun, now desperately trying to reach its rays towards darkened depths, is now just a golden haze, unable to offer any warmth. On one side stands a wall of coral, tarnished with colour, hypnotising life so it does not stray. The other offers an unconscious abyss, frightening to the wary, tempting to the brave.

The deep proves uncharitable to navigation, yet it’s muffled moans still encourage exploration. Faint whispers echo and fade, carried by indecisive currents. Now too deep for the day’s light to intrude, creatures below must brighten their own paths; fish with fangs carry glowing white pearls from their heads, while faceless ***** drag strings of electricity from their pulsing pink bodies. A lone whale glides by in her watery flight, her haunting lullaby becoming lost in the great Somewhere, accompanying the secrets that stay sealed beneath the blue.

The mileage added up to just a grand
Not a lot for 20 days,
No crossing of a dateline
Or a continent’s divide.

But still that world seemed somewhat foreign
and I saw streams of amazing things,
That were echoes of my teenage self,
As different now as I was then.

A hazy forest, dark and damp
Where the mist turned into fairy snow
And we walked on in muddy shoes
To learn the mysteries of falling water.

A midas treasure of wave-borne findings
Spilling from a cavernous hall
Pieces of so many lives found
Floating on the morning tide.

Stories of a Nippon sailor’s life
From things that got thrown overboard
Images of fishing boats
In round glass ***** and floats of cork.

Carve the circle with a line
That led to a reunion of
The ones that I grew up beside
But never quite was welcomed in.

A rounding up of recollections
Shared at tables set for eight
Where those left out still don’t fit in
And bonhomie was the music played.

To the ocean of my childhood days
Waves that tell me who I am
And fill up all the empty spaces
City life drained out of me.

A shining tower with ninety steps
That wound around like pizza slices
And tripped me up to ******* blood
As balsa airplanes spiraled to the ground.

No time for wounding on the schedule
Shedding blood but never tears
The leader of the band played on
Admiring a Tsunami boat

Come all the way from far Japan
With cargo of the local fish
Still swimming in the unspilled sea.
A miracle born from true disaster.

Another beach, not like my own
A warmer, calmer span of sand
With jutting rocks in shallow surf
That dare you out to climb them.

Drawn once more to city lights
And the grassy ***** where mother lies
There were other gardens to enjoy and
And contrivances with just two wheels.

How quickly we grew shuttered in-
Just two days in big city life,
The restaurants and funny shows
Still told us it was time to go.

Longing for the beauty of the Gorge
We were met by smoke and blackened stumps
And exits blocked to waterfalls, ravaged
By the fires of hell, and ugly now for 50 years.

A teenage boy with fireworks and no sense
Destroyed the loveliest drive on earth
And bragged to all his awestruck friends
That all the news stories were about him.

With fingers crossed at Mount Rainier,
The sunny weather turned to slush and
Fell two inches in an hour.  I ate fresh snow
Off branches as we hiked, and froze my tongue.

We wore the heavy coats we almost didn’t bring
And cheered when sunshine took the snow away
And we could walk in forests once again
On trails we never knew were there.

A wonderland of cast off parts and metal bits
Became giraffes, seahorses and other marvels
In the hands of a roadside welding artist
Who sold a giant piece to my home town.

A visit with a sister who shared my youth but not my soul
Who grew one way and I another
Leaving not a thing in common for us
Except the love that comes from blood.

No way to avoid the final city
Hellish place of one way streets
Endless detours and construction
Pay all you own to park two hours.

Yet there was the comedy and
Segways once again to ride.
A troll under a hulking bridge and
Poor Rapunzel in the tower.

Passing up the tourist musts,
Visited in journeys past, we saw
The small and quirky things
That make a foreign city yours.

Twenty days, almost no rain
Unheard of in that rainy clime
A lot of sun, some cloudy skies
A bit of snow to frost the cake.

Twenty days to drive a circle
On the map of who I am
And where I came from
To bring it all back here with me.

To this place so vastly different
I wonder how I found a way
To fit inside this giant tumbler
And plant a seed that actually grew

A would-artist long ago
I wonder how I mixed the paint
To make a life so changed, in colors
Blended from Seattle’s soils.

Painted on a Portland canvas
With a brush of Longview bristles
Wetted with Pacific water
To present my image to the world.
                       ljm

TINY CLINGING CURLS

I remember you
looking almost

Audrey Hepburnish.

My big sister
& oh...that smile!

Touching my world
with the wonder of your

love.

We are Christmas -ing
the place

living in the candle's
glow

love
nothing but love

in almost slow motion.

The holly bites
your little finger.

I ****
the drop of blood

that grows
& grows

until it is
kissed better.

You laugh:
'Ah...my little saviour! '

and sigh with an almost
mock Victorian swoon.

Tiny curls cling
to the nape of your neck

like the tiniest
of tiny seahorses.      

We swim
in the sea

of our laughter.

The next Christmas
you were dead

lost to this
world

leaving me
alone

to mourn
you.

I...unable to
save you.

Now...all these years
later

(years you never knew)      

the holly
bites my little finger

& I **** it
quickly

tasting through
my tears

the sweet tang
of your blood

so alive
in my mouth.