Posts Tagged With: sea
The last ship abandoned me
sleeping near the lighthouse.
Yesterday’s dreams faded away
leaving my body stuck to the ground
amid bitter roots
like a rusted anchor.
I don’t want to leave these shores
where the wind is playing
a soft blues on its harp.
Stones are getting smoother each day,
are burning on a silent pyre.
I will wait day and night
for the rose of winds
to change its direction.
A rock on the beach,
cold lava of unspoken questions,
only summer rain can move me,
like heavy chains dragging my body
in a betrothal with the ocean.
Ships floating on ice,
your hands left me ashore,
swaying the whole sea on my arms cradle.
Amid stones and seagull wings
I feel unable to return to myself,
where tears are constantly trembling
over my icy smile.
Children were playing on the beach
between fortified sand castles
I wasn’t allowed to go there
dreaming of my own castle
I was reading stories with ocean’s daughters
falling asleep on the air mattress
mother was saying that I must get tanned
I was asking her what time is it how long shall we stay there
she wasn’t answering clearly
I was swallowing my tears
grinding in my teeth
a few sand particles
When father wasn’t going fishing
he was taking me to the sea by the hand
we were jumping the waves one by one
it felt so good to pass over them
as if we were flying on the wind
One day I went alone on my blue air bed
my father was out of view
mother was even farther
a wave toppled me down
the water was salty fear swallowed me as a seashell
then father came and took me out into the light
mother was smiling
Since those days sea memories are fading
my parents are farther and farther
I like to float with my eyes
over seagulls’ wings
between clouds castles
sipping my hot tea alone
The fish bring darkness on their scales near the atoll,
hungry oysters swallow tears’ salt,
waves are crushing inside the temple bones
yesterday’s storm wreck.
I am asleep in a deserted egg,
its walls are lined with autumn leaves,
stars are stranded in my heart’s gulf,
rain sips the air like a baby whale
and returns to the sea.
There’s a sweet spring in the middle of the island,
a dry fruit hangs on a branch,
seeds are burning inside their case.
I awake and scrape the shell
until it’s bleeding.