Wednesday, August 16, 2006

A Distant Shore

Our minds are borne in decaying reeds
Flotsam of pernicious loves lost
All to live through tiger-crescent eyes
Lusting through thickets of salacious glades

I swam in the tides for sixty days
The sea churning butter into drowning stars
We were modern plays. Drawn into the world
Of pale eyed alabasters with delicate, pink feet

A hole in my jacket as I traveled:
Mesmerized by pioneers of bygone eras
And the foam! The mischievous foam rising
To kiss your face. Where fish would sing!

My rawhide boots on the weary dunes –
Where you see the miracle brown waves
Drown mariners of time swelling backwards
Into insufferable dawns and pallid moons.

The hull of the ship filled with precious eels
And red vomit burned into Ringwood days
I kneeled and wept with planetary winds
Drinking the malady of time into bottomless nights

The plant of our hearts was growing beyond its dark roots
And was nourished where the sun met quaint ocean joys
We watched one thousand ships sail in from the distance
And Helen was flowing rich in our blood.

25 Comments:

Blogger Jon Cox said...

I love the way you write & what you come up with! VERY well done! All of your poems are always so very creative! I always love visiting your blog! Thank you so much for wishing me a happy birthday & it really was! :o) Thank you so much, I'm so glad you like my paintings, that really helps a lot, especially The Guiding Light, thank you! :o)

1:50 AM  
Blogger Inkblot said...

Oh that IS rich. - imagery , motion, madness and all.

butter churned to crimson

ringwood days- aahhh

feel like swimming in its fragrant thickness before hell freezes it/me/you over.

5:42 AM  
Blogger Scheherazade said...

I love the last line "And Helen was flowing rich in our blood." *sigh*

And how you managed to make this fantastical poem work while incorporating "vomit" (red vomit no less) is a true skill. It does capture the beauty and the bile in this not-so ancient mariner's tale.

6:10 AM  
Blogger bismuth said...

lucky girl.

8:01 AM  
Blogger Stormy Zephyr said...

So, it is the turn of love to be adorned with your words. I always found it very difficult to write about love. I see that you effortlessly pass through the strong images that make for a lovely rendering of this fragile subject. There is some pain too, of a yearning that has been spoken about, but hidden inside your language. Sometimes raw, sometimes plain, sometimes glazed, all the time very beautiful, the feeling of being in it and the aftermath as well. Very nice poem!

8:36 PM  
Blogger bert moth said...

jon - Thank you for the compliments. Yes, The Guiding Light - perfect fit for Cape Cod.

inkblot - I love the word "rich." Just something about it.

Carpe, what did you say? Time to swim!

Scheherazade - Vomit and bile just strike me as unavoidable collateral to those ancient sea voyages. If I was on a ship with all males for months at a time, I'd be contributing.

bismuth - Who's that?

sz - I think your comment may have surpassed my post. Thank you for that.

I really intended this as a sort of beatnik adventure piece. Though there is love in the surroundings and whoever happens to share it.

1:01 AM  
Blogger bismuth said...

this, the other half of the "we"
and the "you" kissed by foam. lucky her.

We were modern plays. Drawn into the world
Of pale eyed alabasters with delicate, pink feet

The mischievous foam rising
To kiss your face. Where fish would sing!

5:10 AM  
Blogger bert moth said...

bismuth - Oh, yes. Thank you. It does sound like a magical place to share.

10:02 AM  
Blogger Danny Sillada said...

"To kiss your face. Where fish would sing!", I love this image; filled with life and innocence.

12:27 AM  
Blogger Prashanth said...

Fascinating vision, imagination and expression. Was particularly struck by the last line... 'And Helen was flowing rich in our blood.' Simple, powerful, gut-driven.

(sigh!) Brilliant. Period.

[As I read you,
as a thrill trills quietly, urgently
through my arms, nape and my right nipple,
a soft, warm burst of pleasure blooms in me,
as I see - a wordsmith as you supple,
as I read you.]

6:04 AM  
Blogger Prashanth said...

This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.

6:05 AM  
Blogger Inkblot said...

hey- why did you remove the orange haze of you? was that a 4 day or 4 week stubble? :D

waiting for the worms..

12:08 PM  
Blogger GEL said...

Your work has come very far since the first time we "met."
I can feel the rise and fall of the ocean as I read this aloud.
You have a knack for using your extensive vocabulary uniquely.
I sense some references my weary brain should be able to connect
(like Helen of Troy, but I could be so off- I am exhausted!)

9:39 PM  
Blogger Scheherazade said...

This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.

10:30 PM  
Blogger Scheherazade said...

This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.

10:33 PM  
Blogger bert moth said...

Ack. Sorry it's taken me a little longer than usual to reply. I've been exceptionally busy. I do appreciate everyone who takes the time to swing by. And now that that's out of the way...

danny - Nature does carry that sort of harsh innocence. Doesn't it?

prashanth - Wow. That comment was amazing. I'm humbled.

With outbursts like that, burst away!

inky - I said it would disappear. The stubble was just my chest hair I pasted to my face. heh.

**silvermOOn** - Thank you. I think it's the transition from an appreciator to becoming a creator.

And get some rest for once (that's an order).

11:21 PM  
Blogger Prashanth said...

I keep coming back.

Can I link to you, kindly? :)

1:53 AM  
Blogger bert moth said...

prashanth - Link away. I'll happily do the same.

8:35 AM  
Blogger csperez said...

have to agree...a fantastic poem...can i link to you also?

blindelephant.blogspot.com

peace

2:45 PM  
Blogger GEL said...

Ô¿Ô , notice the time on this comment. My family has been worried that I've been "working myself to death" (I blog while working at my desk), so I have been sleeping much more and more regularly in recent months, but once a nightowl, always a nightowl. :)
Thank you for your concern. I do so enjoy reading you.

8:03 PM  
Blogger Prashanth said...

Thanks T-R, Here goes.

1:16 AM  
Blogger Cocaine Jesus said...

writing about love can be a task riddled with problems. it all comes out "icky" and sntimental and mushy.
you have managed to write about it with style and a bit of bite.

neat and intelligent and very cool.

3:08 PM  
Blogger bert moth said...

csperez - You bet. I'll be over to blindelephant soon and will put up the link. Thanks for stopping by.

**silvermOOn** - The night's when all the interesting people are out. I'd tell you not to sleep too regularly, but I don't want to give bad advice.

prashanth - Right back at you.

cj - Thanks. It's so very true writing about that topic. I'm not sentimental at all but have a tendency to romanticize things. It takes some tiptoeing.

10:18 PM  
Blogger Jon Cox said...

Thank you so much for your comments! I'm very glad you like my latest work & you feel the majestic feelings of my paintings, I appreciate that so much!!! :o)

11:44 PM  
Blogger Diana said...

"i swam in the tides for sixty days/the sea churning butter into drowning stars./we were modern plays."

i love those lines.
i don't move so well within them.
maybe for the weight of the role play; maybe it's the butter.
oh, plasmic, yes, you know i like it. softness, sweetness, and all things 'lady.'


in related news...how the fuck to i change my fucking comment name from diana to something fucking cooler??!!

oh, and further...you can't find me.

3:14 PM  

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