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Tuesday 2 April 2013
Surfboarder
The moon petals the sea. Rose petals the sea.
Stone sea. Stone petals. Rose petals of stone.
Stone rising before me. Sea moves. How moves?
Only the not-stone board beneath me
steadies itself and is still
where wave calls to wave
incessantly
where sea is a word re-writing itself
written in stone
to me, a text to my not-stone board,
pulled from the shelf.
Peaks towering above me. Strong. Still.
As stony as any landlubbery hill back home.
Powder to nothing in wavebreak and seashake
feeling the shale, the stone floor.
(As the written word, as it trembles before
the locked-in power, the power of speech.)
Tightly it locks me,
a lost soul, lost in the lost power of speech.
Dumb in the shivvering pit, in the shimmering flow
of the dark words' call to us, to me in the now.
Wave clash to wave clash, brash
in the light of the moon's yellow staff.
Pierces the stoniness. Grave-like and tunnelled.
Sea-tunnelled. Shore-runnelled. Bundled with love.
Stone after-glow of a joy from above.
Inspired by Wordle 102 at The Sunday Whirl. to whom much thanks.
The Given words were:
Moon, peak, petals, staff, lost, pit,
stone, after, calls, locks, written, powder
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26 comments:
Wow...how you've made me think of summer...surfing...and Cornwall!
I just adore sitting on the rocks of the Strand and watching the surfers. Always wanted to join in, but never quite had the courage - kayaking is my sport!
Thank you so much for these happy memories, Dave. You've reminded me that summer is just around the corner...and I feel suddenly euphoric!!!
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really love your opening dave...great imagery and progression in the moon petaling the sea to the stone flowers, touching each of the elements that comes into play with the surfing...have yet to seriously try it...i skim and body boarded but never really had the chance to surf...
10 stones in there. And yet not stones, most of them.
This is a warning to the fainthearted not to take up the sport. My, you can paint with words, David. I can share the exhileration of the one coming out the other end. True poetry.
I love the repetition and the rhyming in this poem. You made those wordle words sing!
Enjoyed reading your write!
Now that's what I call surfing the words. great imagery.
Such beautiful writing...Loved it.....
I am here after SO long!! Sorry about that!!
inside that bowl, I see the whole world
Superb poem with its metaphor and link between speech and natural forces...I agree : we are lost in both of them.
Hey, I live in Hawaii, and this reeks of Surfer Mind. You left out the ROAR though, or did I miss it?
Aloha
You capture so much with your weaving of these words, especially the movement above and below the surface. I've always admired those who dare to do this thing, and when someone says "follow your bliss" I think of water and surfboards.
Elizabeth
Hi All!
It seems I have to reinstate word identification, having received a broadside of scribble, so apologies for that. I do realise what a drag it is, even when necessary.
Apologies also for not being able to get round to you all. Particularly frustrating in this instance as I considered this piece slightly experimental for me and was especially interested in your views, which in the main were even more thorough and pointed, with not a few critiques of real value. Thank you all very much.
And to those visiting (or maybe commenting) for the first time, please accept my warmest welcome as the personal greeting it is meant to be.
A wonderful ride which claims an ending of perfection!
http://picsandpoems.blogspot.com/2013/04/surfboarder.html
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