The Ocean

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

****

9 thoughts on “The Ocean

  1. 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.

    Like

    1. 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.

      Liked by 2 people

  2. 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 😉

    Like

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