Ocean

Something mischievous brews,
beneath the skin of that black balloon
With a thousand golden irises that wink at us
so innocently, before they are swallowed by
a thousand mouths,
foaming at the lips.

The sea breeze whips her surface into canyons and crests,
shadows collect and dissipate in front of my eyes
with a hiss of static as waves lunges at the tree line,
and slide back in malcontent.

Nothing ever escapes the ocean,
She engulfs everything that is bright and eats the beautiful,
chews it up with the ugly, and digests it all
until it mirrors the universe above.

Original sin was borne by whitecaps over black sludge
and storms stem from her shoulder blades like tumours, malignant,
but sunrays still dance across her simmering skin
and the stars sleep on her back,
nestled into her boughs like diamonds
in the rough of darkest caves.

And she never stops

moving, she swells and crashes and sways
perpetually,
she slow-dances with the skies and the wind
as her silver dress shimmers on the horizon.

And no part of her body is ever still.

But here we stand like statues as time disintegrates between our toes.

I really liked it. Your description of how the oceans' waves move and the way they hit the sand made me feel like i was really at the beach or on a boat. I could feel the passion that you have for the ocean, and the respect that you have for the waters. I also like the way you said that she was wearing a silver dress and that it shimmers in the horizon and the way that it flows when she dances. And the way you say that no part of her is still ut there you stand like statues as the time disintegrates between your toes. I love the way you compared time slipping away like grains of sand through your fingers.

Hello, Doogzie!

I haven't read anything of yours in ages! Great to see more of your work, at last.

Beautiful opening. Very poetic and subtle, but extremely effective.

The sea breeze whips her surface into canyons and crests,

I'm not sure I like the usage of "The sea breeze". I think it's be better-- for both flow and poem if you just said breezes or winds, or something less tongue-tangling than The sea breeze.

with a hiss of static as waves lunges at the tree line,

This should either be "As a wave lunges as a tree line" or "as waves lunge at the treeline", monsieur.

Nothing ever escapes the ocean,

Eh, I'm not sure if I like this line, dear. Sounds a little preachy to me, and doesn't actually go with the flow of the rest of the poem.

Original sin was borne by whitecaps over black sludge

And here, the word original seems to drag back the poem a few paces-- I'd ditch it, to keep the pace running smooth.

And she never stops



moving, she swells and crashes and sways

perpetually,

she slow-dances with the skies and the wind

as her silver dress shimmers on the horizon.

Can you say beautiful?


- -

The first stanza is brilliant.

Beautiful work, as always, Doogz. Very nice rhythm there, although there were a few spots where the flow did halt. I loved the imagery-- you painted a beautiful picture with your words. Excellent job here, dear.

June