3 poems (sailor)

  1. Counterpane

 

The Sailor flung his bag upon his shoulder

to ease the dark day

that weighed upon his soul.

 

You have flown

the coast  to be

his sole companion;

laid

 

beneath the counterpane,

struck high

Atlantic  waves.

 

You have found

beast and man

magnificent; and

 

confronted by this, lost

eloquence.

 

Immeasurable

solitude.

 

Glorious.

Seasons! Castles!

 

I too

wanted to

 

disappear;

be,

elsewhere;

 

anywhere but

here; with you.

 

Christ, I know

I’m no sailor, tho

1 day the Idea

 

of a Man may walk

the water,

 

who knows what for

 

  1. Love, our nerves are fingered

 

love, our nerves are

fingered like strings.

 

Those memorable images

still trembling,

shadows on the water.

 

These oceans are

illimitable

 

(for all intents

and purposes).

 

Sundays,

I intuit

2 eternities.

 

The nausea

returns.

 

The eternal return

of Ritual murder,

say.  Roll, oh;

 

be kind. Tho I feel

like a shadow sometimes –

a bare soul,

 

in my mind it’s

skin to skin

with you

here. I think

you know.

 

3  We should sail

 

We should board a ship,

do you think? Sail

the brooding miles and

miles

 

from here.

Roll

by my

window.

 

We drive and I’m

in another world.

 

As far as I know. I’m

51 in 2 months

but,

 

young in some

ways

immature.

 

This is rubbish, but still

we should sail.

 

 

 

The Cedar Lodge Motel, Hamilton 31 August – 1 September

3 thoughts on “3 poems (sailor)

  1. It’s a treasure from the sea, Marco. Love it start to finish (and it never finishes, right?) Pleased to see it written in a motel location, such is the special atmosphere of the inn, the temporary stop over, the metaphor of life itself!

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