What's Cooking At Sea? Poem by Felix Bongjoh

(i)

Rays stick out needles
Wind's mouth a cave breathing out
A zephyr, warm brush.

Breeze grown wind
Grows hot tentacles curling
To make water scream.

Sun's fire boils sea
In a cauldron hissing, warm.
Swells roll and roll,

Molding hills, valleys,
Expanding emerald tray.
Bubbling water heats.

What cooks at sea now
Sun's furnace switched high, rumbling
With undulations?

(ii)

Sun's wick turned low bows
To a cruising gale. Storm.
Whales wheeling to shore

Water walls rise high
Sun stretches hands low and low
Roiling tased waters

Sun's gun fires again
To keep sea boiling, hotter,
Roaring to shaking banks.

Cauldron's lips hot shores,
As sea lid flips over, flamed,
Bouncing sands, rock

Water stretches hands
Of hot steam to breaking rock
Pushing back rumble.

(iii)

As scoops of water
Flip over back to center
Floods drive back to peak,

High seas bouncing back
In cauldron pouting curled lips
Parched bruises at shore:

A burnt fisherman
Paddles a canoe, trout scales.
Meal served dry, parched catch.

Sun's storm overcooked meal
Served on shore's bench, a man
Dressed in parched sun's gold.