Monday, November 12, 2012

Ocean ride

I imagined the thrum and throb
To be an annoyance and distraction
But the hum of the engines
Sends a rhythm up through the soles
Of my non slip shoes

The ocean is a pull, mother nature
At her finest, in every direction

I wave goodbye to an old me
And embrace the one I can smile with

The ocean is churned up in our wake
Lines of disturbance,
Little, more, turbulent, little
Every so often, blue shapes
Mix in with the turmoil

"Jellyfish!" They tell me
And so I wave and ask
"How are they not dead?"

There's no answer, as we all breath deep
Of the calming rock, rock, rock
Of a long forgotten childhood nursery rhyme.

Thursday, November 1, 2012

Worried from afar!

Worrying about her
in her distance and enigma
something had shifted
the sands or the tilt and axis
of her universe

Subtly was never a gift
but I cannot ask, truly ask
about whether or not
things were as they appeared
for her appearance
had shifted the slightest degree