Tag Archives: The Coast

Beachworld

 

footprints cislandAs you stare; stop looking… for answers on every wave, and under the tiring sun that lowers into its new water bed: forever creased. Each nearing roll of surf perpetually attends to the beach where you wander; reaching out and soaking, smoothing scars of soft land and human hand, from land loving creatures.

The bubbling roar of white noise; rising and dipping in volume; teasing your ears into hearing frequencies from lost radios stations: faulty and alluring. Every time this happens something is taken from you, soon replaced by a specific space to lighten your walk inland.

All this… as you stand, feet sucked by gooey miniature rocks that table gels of dead jelly fish; glistening like little brains of the sea; forced up upon confusion and violence from the mighty froths of wash.

 

 

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Giant Arcade

Dry twinkling grains

Soft sucking imprints

Moulding

Swallowing spaces

Between your toes

Temporary still

Of someone’s moment

Until erased

By unempathetic sea

A liquid giant

Sand pushing machine

Of Its own arcade

No coin-op

As the Lighthouse Blinks its Eye

As the lighthouse

blinks its eye,

the seabirds laugh;

as soon as coastal rocks

dive backwoods to the sea,

when boats below

do collide, harmlessly,

into themselves.

And as long as

the shore-wind blows

its crystal salt kisses

to nightwalkers lips,

scattering diamonds

along coastal paths,

the pebbles,

pulled by the moons lost drink

clap their celebration.

All the while,

glimpses of

an alternative life;

noticeable by chattering

at every opening of a door.

Everything,

near-bye,

chased by a yellowed light;

bathing and outlining

loyal machines as

they click;

to temperatures

of their original setting.

Somewhere

the tired,

the travelled,

stare at waters old,

new, then old,

from cliff-faces resting.

Before deeper into night

arrives a more peaceful light

and so the lighthouse

shuts its eye.