Deeply into this ocean before me stare
that I might learn and learning be released.
Oh to be lifted up adrift in the current,
buoyed up in the ocean’s swirl, a feast
of sweeping lessons arriving, all declaring
terre and lunar’s bountiful caring
for those, in sick and disabled despair.
Power and sucking desire, destitute
beyond diagnosis, drugs, and hearing.
Inhuman public refuse, rejected and sent
their own kind, by drain water’s torrent
and pumped along by the gravity
of taxation torture, family disillusionment, Hell sent.
How natural then to be standing here.
My back now a swelling ocean
a living medium of nodes and antinodes
that sing and shine the length of me
that dance unholy devout rhythm
then parade with drums and cymbals
and twist me and turn me
tearing flesh and breaking the will
into fateful tragedy’s own obscene logic
that has no listenable melody, no mercy.
Of unceasing pain, broken hopes, fantasy magic potions.
Myself reduced, a mere dorsal domain
of tunnelling interacting wave trains
that meet and excel themselves, into nodal horror
only rarely cancelling, insane
in the kindly meeting embrace
of anti-nodal relief, from inhuman motion,
the bitterest of recriminations and cynical disbelief.
How natural then to be standing here
not of this race
myself, cosmic physiology, this place.
See how the tide sweeps all before its brush:
beginning beyond where sky boils water
yet penetrating into every harbour corner
with a frenzied narcotic’s rush.
Washing every stone to full lustre
tugging at every seaweed and thought
no matter what stuff once bought litters
the minds crevices and ocean’s floor.
Impossible then a more reliable mentor
moral guide or faithful harbinger.
Sense the power of meteoric forces
the lash and vapour of non-human insight.
How like foaming frothing sea water
all frequency noise is coloured and white.
And how white noise intrudes everywhere
and without fear or fight or terror
cancels and annuls all frequencies found
in true full spectrum banishment,
no echo, feedback, aharmonicity or rebound.
Noise of white water
tongue of churn and torrent.
And today this ocean’s waves,
bubbling turbulence around my waist,
a chill temptation of full spectral embrace.
A frequency for pain,
another for its loneliness
A frequency for humiliation, desperation and shame.
All to be swept away
in the white noise of tidal motion.
Wise natures metaphor my lesson
full spectral cycles, life’s truth and gain.
Justly concealing and healing
all that we need to shame
in some hidden sullen place
where need is sufficient reason
and God does not threaten with flame.
Away light of sun and private notions
to where matter’s particles dissolve in motion
that is wave-particle duality sharing.
That is full spectrum banishment
of that which is unbearable truth or suffering
that which is pain.
Is that shouts from the shore
intruders in my sacred space, ritual bath
violators, this white foamy shroud
or underwater echo,
the thrash and thump of great breakers.
Is that the pulse of pumped blood
or the periodic motion of life’s nutrient.
Is that rift and roar of turbulence
or the loss of oxygen in my head.
Is that the flail of my arms
or the swoon of the seaweed.
Am I treading water
or caressed by rising current.
False release or blessed peace.
Oh Oh what’s that you’re back… yes
I know you told me not to tell about the Heavenly Angels but… Yes
I try to be good. Oh I can’t hear you. The white noise of water.
I remember being tumbled by a wave and turned under it instead of riding like I intended. Your poem gave me the same kind of pummeling. Breathtaking.
A brilliant write you have here Philip! Capturing and thought provoking! ! *10*! ! Best regards, Friend Thad
Poet indeed! ! Couldn't wait to read the next line, like a dog begging for something sweet. So beautifull! ! ! So so beautifull! ! ! loved it truly, please write some more
This is such a beauitful poem thank you for sharing it Philip such wonderful use of language and so well written truly inspired writing indeed 10 out of 10
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
a brilliant poem, ticks the mental baggage