Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

Some half a year past hurricane assault—
I waded in the waveless gulf and prayed
to one I trusted heard; and rinsed my face
in salt. That oceanic earth canal
wore afternoon like canopies above
my bridegroom head and wove between my limbs:
sweet marriage bed with broken glass still fresh
and dressed in white reflections of my flesh.
Why ask fidelity from one whose whims
are so irreverent? Yet I waited love
and begged, “You wet with love, why love me now
when you’ve before so many hated?” Grace
the ocean cannot speak; but quiet swayed
and just gave way in prayer: assign no fault.

I liked this very much joel, very beautiful...and no, you can assign no fault.



The ocean is not a friend to me
I am not filled with serenity when I gaze upon it's depths.
It makes me ill at ease
And yet, I'll wander happily for hours
upon the sandy stretches of beach
looking for treasure
glistening bits of ocean treasure
washed there seemingly just for me
I can smile
delight in the moment
but the ocean
the crashing waves
somehow hold no peace

Many dream of living on the ocean's shores
soothed by the gentle lapping and rocking of the sea
It looks and sounds only darkly foreboding to me

ah well, I wasn't born to it
and perhaps it's a learned thing
this irrational - shall I call it - fear


excuse the ramble