Saiom Shriver (Ohio)
02 Brief Fragments Of Longer Sea Poems
Rocking cradle of the world.. sunset stairway to the stars..
only by greatmasters trod... only written on by God.
Out of the sea the sun aborning with his awesome light of morning
Not adorned but all adorning says to you 'Come! My Mavoorning! '
Rain at sea... redundancy?
It snows at sea... silence falls in flakes...melting
designs.... slip form for All
Wavecarved caves in the seagirt rock.. have sculpted it into a seagulled
Every morn...the sea reborn...is smoke and mirrors..... fog and reflection.
We gave him a pitcher. He gave us the sea
The rock temple to Poseidon will in some millenium show crumbling, but the wavy
sea will remain... as ever the ocean main.
The tide sent into the cleft of rock Neptune's polyfingered hand of welcome.
Without equal, each wave sequel. Land is for eagles. The sea
is for seagulls
The ebbtide slowly recedes, but in that sweet leg of the sea
tidepools, seaweed, shells sunsparks and driftwood.... are his legacy
The rain in Maine remains mainly by the main.
That sand not soon turn the beachfence into driftwood
the artist designed a metal seat.
From the shore.. one looks upward to the sanddune grass..10,000 green brush
trying to paint the blue sky jade* No matter how high it climbs the mountain ash
he cannot stamp his footprint frondprints of green hue upon the sky of
Faster than any stylus squiggling.. can write the sun
in the water wiggling... but when the sea is perfectly still..
it appears it was water which held the quill
Receives all arrows the universal quiver
as the sea receives all lonely rivers
Daily the sea laves with tidal milk waves
nursing in love her hungrymouthed caves
Today in their palate of many hues
the sky and sea have 90 shades of blue
Little petstore goldfishes.. suffocating in the tiny plastic bag.. God set you
free..into fresh water rivers which lead to the sea.
Gentler than land's are the seasons of the seas.
The rainbow's end touchdowns in the waving sea. Though she pours her pastels
endlessly, deep blue remains the sea
Surfers delight in the motion of the angry waves of the ocean
as neptune, king of the sea, delights in their mars.
Shadows of fishes play in the shallows above varying
shades of abandoned shells.
Within a wavelaved rock fissure, God hid the fish from the kingfisher.
The rowboat's wake intersected the path
of the morning sun upon the water... effort was squared to light
The sea mirror was framed by lobster traps..until she rose and smashed them
A clamshell holds the seaswell.. Reflected in captured tide.. does Jupiter's
Waterfall mist asked the sea 'when shall I return to Thee? '
Windsent seascent everywhere went
As artists long for blank canvases, as sealovers yearn for the blue space of the
the Spirit longs to be uncluttered.
So many shades of blue from royal navy to aqua hue.. without
the horizon ship one could not tell sky from sea.
Seacradle is fishes rocking among the rocks but she is slapping at fishermen's
For the sun wearing daily a fresh foam frock helping God on all hearts to knock
The full moon lifts seawaves in joy, but only the sun can lift water drops out
of the sea.
Blackberried tarts on white lace doilies are the seafoam framed ocean's dark
Ships in bottles cannot sail, but messages unsealed from
bottles do, and their words are meant most for those who find the script.
More than the stable shore God hallows the waving sea's shellshod shallows.
In the kinder world there surely no longer shall be
shellfish shiv'd to shed their sheltering shells from the sea
Waves will rise in joy, they know soon toward the full moon of the longed for
Message in sea's bottles. Tidings in the tides. Time's
rivers to the timeless sea glide. Every being will with God abide.
Cavecarver tide.. a patient sculptor who abides
He is like the sea: on the surface bubbling with wave effervescence
... in the depths one with divine Everpresence
The sun's fireball has scattered embers in the sea, unquenched
by her waters. for love can never be extinguished.
The drops the rain scatters the river then gathers.. for the sea who in turn
offers them in her great chalice to the Sun Father
One smells seasalt before the first seasight...
of His Eoyal Lowness, Neptune bluerobed. He fills hearts with delight
She picked up only vacant seashells at the shores of the Seychelles.
For chambered nautili hollow were minnow castles in the shallows
It is the trickling time for the tiptoeing tide to float in gifts which abide
beneath the twinkling stars' ides.
The tide is afoot! in the 10 million fingers of the sea
As seawaves slapped his sloop he slipped down a sweet slope into sleep
A red light where the road ends at the aquamarine sea.
Aboard the oceanliner they see.. moonlight whitewashing the sea
Those who live by or on the sea can most frequently be healed by her empty
canvas, rhythms, and frequency
Flags of fog flap not but float above the kingdom of Neptune
The sun scattered a trillion diamonds on the sea...his angels will gather them
into a necklace for thee
Her listening heals.. because she listens with total presence, without judgment,
without interruption, with unconditional love
The sirens in his odyssey kept not Odysseus from the sea
The beachcombing sea gives more than she takes as she secedes
The sea: a blue jewel framed by shells.. whose azure and aqua skies are not
caught by aquarelles. Her sight and sound and smell
.... lift us out of hell. In her space our spirits upwell.
As she hears the confessions of all rivers those on the shore hear the sea..
accepting all she calls no thing heresy.
So many sires he had in Donegal.. so many foremothers in Galway..he was made of
...in every cell of his being the sea calls to itself
That day the grey gulls over the grey gulf were invisible in the grey cover of
As rocks girding a tidal pool... As metal setting for sapphire jewel... As rigid
bones around liquid soul eyes.. the body frame for the Spirit Nigh
The mountain palm gave birth. Her coconut babes rolled downhill to the ocean..
Now they are islands in that sea.. with hard shells bathed inside by coconut
milk and outside by piscean seas
In an all-grey sky through a cloud goblet a sunbeam straw sucked up the sea
The tide casts her slender silver fishnet veil, not to harm the fish, but to
float them home to her sea.
I want to be with my love by the sea near his seaweed strewn legacy
hearing the gullsong..smelling salt air..feeling the sand arranged by the tide......
my heart slowing down to rhythms of seaslide.. seeing ascent of the Sun.. oer
watching the rise oer the bay of the moon..ambling to a cafe fireplace to sip
with book pen and community
Sad was the sea of Being that she was not a river of doing and so God gave her
currents. While the woodpecker wooed the woods with his whittling she carved
Birds have oerleapt the sea oarcleft. But she has not been harmed
Bee has the petals of clover cloven but she has not been harmed
Constantinaples: Beneath the spires of Naples and Constantinople
lies the sea shimmering in sun's iridescent opals.
.. as humans of varying frequencies float crystallized on their own Spirit Seas
The sea honors the confessional seal... giving absolution to reformed fishermen
who no longer club seals
The bubbles, the spray, the breakers which have rent the surface of the Sea...are not sin but joy in being. She receives them... reseaves them...back into her serene quiet deeps.
Some say the sea is sibilant..others that she is engaged in om-ing
... that she roars and crashes, , , or kisses the sand..or slaps the pier or murmurs beneath the moonlight... infinite are her melodies
Korea, India, Florida, Italy, Indonesa, Hawaii, Denmark, Sicily...
diamonds ever polished by the sea.. ever cooled by her breeze
Effervesc ence is to David P B
We Gave Him A Pitcher is to C Lassell
Rocking Cradle of the World is to Don and Pat Wilson
Faster than Any Stylus Squiggling is to Mark Braunstein
Receives All Arrows is to E Hubiak
Blackberried Tarts is to Betsy Frost
Poseidon Temple is to EL and NL
Mavoorning is to E Lynch
It Snows At Sea.. is to David Shriver and Julie Denholm
re the death of their mother Sylvia Dobkin Shriver
The rain in Maine is to William Cohen
Rookery is to Walt Rave
Sounds of the Sea is to that gentle force of nature Jan P B
these poems were written between 1956 and now
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