The White Noise Of Water Poem by Philip Housiaux

Philip Housiaux

Philip Housiaux

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The White Noise Of Water

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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.

COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Chitra - 11 July 2008

a brilliant poem, ticks the mental baggage

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Callie Carroll 19 May 2008

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.

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Thad Wilk 27 April 2008

A brilliant write you have here Philip! Capturing and thought provoking! ! *10*! ! Best regards, Friend Thad

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Nadia Fourie 30 January 2008

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

0 0 Reply
Francis Duggan 25 January 2008

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

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Philip Housiaux

Philip Housiaux

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