Showing posts with label Down to the Sea. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Down to the Sea. Show all posts

Sunday, May 5, 2019

A Shade Between

Kerry O'Connor Art



Was love ever this scarlet?
I remember it as salty,
more oceanic than vegetable,
a seagull’s guttural cry,
an oarless lifeboat
at the mercy of a rolling current,
and broken glass at ebb tide
rubbed to opacity
a shade between blood and rust.






Friday, March 1, 2019

Blue

@skylover


I recently 'notebooked' this poem from my archives, one of my early pieces written back when I first discovered the magical world of internet poetry. I can hardly believe that was almost a decade ago.
I dedicate this post to all my wonderful friends with 'steady arms', for the kind support you have given me all these years.


Saturday, January 19, 2019

Coelacanth Dawn

@skyloverpoetry


This will involve a descent abysmal –
Prepare to turn away from light 
as from hope of new day.

With each stroke, you are closer
to the realization that evolution
has forgotten the gills necessary
for life on a water planet.

Yes, sea levels are on the rise –
Already you are a rare sight
among coelacanths.



Izy Gruye has challenged us to invoke Lesser Known Cryptids. The coelacanth is not among those 'listed' but this creature of scientific mystery is native to South African waters, so I have sneaked it in to my Flash 55 of the week.


Friday, October 12, 2018

Heartsong

@skyloverpoetry


Child of mine, I cannot fathom
the endless beauty of your every
changing tide
but your thoughts I hear
like songs of whales – an echo
carried by the amniotic waves – 

There is no ocean deep
as the farthest reaches of your mind
aswim with memories, gifted beyond gold.
No surf more opalescent than your eyes.



A watery 55 for Caitlin, on her 25th birthday.

Tuesday, October 2, 2018

The Mariner

@skyloverpoetry


Remember the day
the sea swallowed the world?
Hard to cover that up
but the politbots did their best
to whitewash the facts
into palatable slices,
clucking, like chickens once did.

It’s not all bad.
Got me this gig on
the Hiraeth Inter-Oceanic Platform,
mostly it’s plain sailing –
no sea-monsters
thriving in these toxic tides.



A new age sea shanty in 55 words for The Tuesday Platform, in continuation of my dystopian series of monologues.

For those who are interested, I am participating in Inktober on Instagram, where I am handwriting and illustrating this series in the first week:
 @skyloverpoetry