sentiments &sediment

--winter--

walking the beach i imagined
the inexhaustible sigh of the Atlantic
overtaken by you,
howling delirious — a lover’s
harmonics yet to engage my ear.

the boardwalk slumbers:
the mechanical grind
and neon glyphs lost
in the darkness of a late winter evening.
occasionally a shudder
works its way through
the expanse of old wooden beams
as the dormant beast dreams
slushies and caramel popcorn
seeping sticky into its veins.

Heaven’s inhabitants
snap stolen moments,
bouncing jealous glances
off the sea’s surface —-
the sun rises hours early
averting starry eyes.

--summer--

i
uncurl alone
in a drunken haze
underneath a pier that seems
to lead a direct path into the sun
wading belly deep in the ocean,
provoking me with playful splashes,
trying to
jolt me out of this
inebriated state.

i
stumble towards the silly bastard
to inflict a sleeper hold
and crack its crown against the corals
with a “fuck-you!”
to follow —-
i want my
night back!

primed to dance
wicked with the sun,
i put on my best stride
through the sediment,
before finding your name,
where once was carved and
circumscribed with a heart,
erased from the sands,

licked out of existence like
lollipops and icicles —
the erosive strokes of the surf,
sweetness removed —

and all that remains is...

--blackout--

i’ve forgotten my
grudge with the
golden one,
and
postured
prostrate upon his porch,
the sea lapping at
my
nicked feet,
refuse to
re-salt the sea — the realization that
i can’t kill the ocean with
the slice of a clam shell,
impale
the mighty star
upon a
mountain,
nor pin down
the restless spirit
of a young woman
with wounds
down
to the
marrow.

i am
little,
casting
a meager shadow,
but can engulf the world
in thought...
but first to swallow this pride.
(c) seraph219

Bio: Seraph was born in Trenton, NJ on February 19, 1983. He attends St. Lawrence University. Seraph thanks Mom &Dad, David Cantlay, Katya, Eli, and all the Okaypoets.

peace,
~p~

"the wages of dying is love" (c) galway kinnell

"i fear to forget your name
as a poet fears to forget some word
sprung in the torment of the night,
mighty as God himself." (c) v.v.m.

AIM: okaypoet219

!!!!!