Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

"Black Sea" – Photo by Doreen Peri.

breakers

i call
i call into the waters
of this rolling tide
i call out loud
i call out wide
i call the divers
out of sea
i call
i call them back to me
the arctic divers hooded
as dark-winged crying gulls

at night
at night in
crumbling dreams of time
unfolding behind curtains
of waves that whisper
silver to the sky
i call
i call into the wall
of the heaving tide

the moon the moon
i dream the moon
on wounded waters stained
with jewels
moonfluid
glittering through
the crashing arches
of falling waves
littering the beach with
crazy human breakers

(the sea the sea
the dreamed poetry
the silent shore
the drifting soul
the moonlight calm
the gentle call

face wet with night
waves rocking rocking:

i hear i hear
a tender knocking
beating of wings
of moonlit white

the waters deep
and dark with light

my heartbeat
heartbeat
surging
tide

moonwaves rolling

quiet
quiet )

the poet is a dot on the horizon
all the ink spilled from the bottle
the sky still hangs there

it's been
years
since we counted
the miles between
our fingertips
since our dreams
pushed time into
the dreamer's form
like a swimmer's hand
pushes the water
into the swimmer's
shape

it's been years
years since we
caught the motion
scratched the
graphic surface
until ripple
nuclei exploded and
crests summated to detonate
in light and foam

years and letters
lie still here
now
like shells
washed upon the shore

i hold them to the ear

there are no
echoes
even
of the seas
that once
were

Dearest, honorable,
King ocean
of frothy crown.
(Or are those three
tiers of teeth,
homey?)
We must be
friends sir,
please,
it's of utmost
importance,
I mean,
how can we not be,
we've played together,
danced together,
in the dreamy moonlight.
I understand your
ragings,
your impatience with
all things,
back and forth,
but really,
take my word
for it sir,
I will love,
honor,
and obey you,
forever,
on solid,
unmoving,
secure
ground.