I have become quite forgetful. I posted something the other day only to be reminded that I had already posted it, and not that long ago. I’m sorry to be so boring. And repetitious. One way or another I keep saying the same thing over and over again.
But the fact is that I’m going to repeat myself again. Just to put something on paper. Just to put runs on the board (to use a term which may not mean much to many of you).
Originally this was written as a quick response to Kate, here, and maybe doesn’t really mean all that much ….
What really does mean that much, in the end?
But listen …. I have spent much of my life looking out over the ocean, though I have always felt that it was the ocean, like an older more responsible sister, that was always watching over me.
****
The ocean gives. She takes away
Through winter, summer. Come what may
Her lips paint pictures in the sand
Fingers brushing foreign land
In breaking waves she sheds her tears
Her message falling on deaf ears
Those words of love, and of regret
Of eons which she can’t forget
Whilst we, so fragile, can’t transcend
A life that must come to its end
She, like river, lake and sea
Flows on towards eternity
****
Richmond Road 
Definitely worth repeating
Sent from Yahoo Mail for iPhone
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Those first two lines? WOW! Could almost be a haiku with a bit of maneuvering.
I like!
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Nice imagery and it is honestly refreshing to see an artist who understands “poetry” is not a word offering credibility to pointless, disconnected, weird, rhyme-less pap.
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Well …. I think my poetry (I’m reluctant to even call it that) is very ordinary and I try not to take myself seriously with it.
But I know what you mean. It does irk me that people so often use the word ‘poetry’ to describe meaningless drivel with random line breaks. Sometimes it’s a bit like abstract art (though not necessarily) in that people think that by flamboyantly flinging random words at a page they magically become the literary equivalent of Jackson Pollock and consider stuff that attempts a bit of rhyme and rhythm to be somehow beneath them.
To openly question their credibility is seen as being artistically insensitive, of course, so it can all become something of a self-delusional con job.
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Having spent all my life near the ocean, I love this. The ocean is my place to recharge my batteries or just relax.
This is new to me, so don’t worry about repeating… there may be fresh eyes waiting for your writing 😉
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I’m not sure what the exact number is, but about 90% of Australians live within 30 miles of the coast, so most of us feel the same way.
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awesome pops … I really do love your poems! Please forward it to spillwords?
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I don’t even know who spillwords are, alas.
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ask Mr G pops, you are using your computer so it’s easy 🙂
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