nature without check
vast swirling depths and undulating waves
treacherous beneath the glass-calm surface
contradict her susurrating promise of peace
with original energy
her siren call will shipwreck you
between waves
(of pleasure)
battering your vessel,
splintering
(your desire)
Is this then a touch?
before
quivering me
to a new identity
sweeping you gently into her soothing
embrace
and depositing you
drenched and demolished reborn upon her restorative shores
beautiful
I am not to be denied, I compel,
I have stores plenty and to spare,
And anything I have
I bestow.
dangerous
gently fierce
Do I contradict myself?
{feminine}
Very well then I contradict myself.
OCEAN
(I am large, I contain multitudes.)
.
NOTE: Words in blue excerpted from the poetry of Walt Whitman.
I love what you have done here with Walt Whitman poetry and your own words. Along with the photo, this post has quite blown me away. WOW
PS. Don’t know W Whitman but will defo check him out now
He was an American poet, quite famous for the longwork Song of Myself, from which I have borrowed here. 🙂
I enjoyed the combination of your own words interlaced with that of WaltWhitman’s too. And like May I haven’t heard of him but I”ll go and google it. 🙂
You’ll find him easily, I’m sure. 🙂
And if you like the interspersal of lines, you may also enjoy this KOTW post, which borrows from ee cummings.
Thanks. I’ll go look.
I love this. Both the image, which is delightful and well crafted, and the words which offer the same. Beautifully done x
I’m a huge Walt Whitman fan. As I was reading your poem, I kept thinking, “this sounds familiar somehow…” lol Beautifully, powerfully done.
Oh well done!
Clever, Feve. Imagine this applies to the Salish Sea as well.
Heh. I’d be surprised if the Sound is exempt. Or the Strait for that matter.
(Which leads me to G.M. Ford. Have you ever read Who In Hell Is Wanda Fuca? ?)
This piece kind of ebbs and flows a bit like the sea against the shore, it is a beautiful piece of writing
Mollyx
Very creative!
I love the interplay here between Whitman’s words and your own.
This is so beautiful. I love how you’ve done this.
I LOVE this – as I was writing my own piece, I thought a lot about Whitman (and Emily Dickinson, hence the title of my post) and went back to Leaves of Grass to read the Sea Drift section.
Oh, I really like that your mind went there!
Whitman was – and remains, I think – an enigma. I read him and think, “He’s so plain-spoken” (sometimes to the point of tedium), but then it’s as though an electric current arcs through his words with sudden, shockingly eloquent profundity.
Ginsberg described him more than once as “bombastic” (Have you ever read his dissertation on Leaves of Grass? It’s here, if you’re interested: https://m.poets.org/poetsorg/text/taking-walk-through-leaves-grass), which fits in its way; and yet he was a singular sometimes-soft voice apart, with idea{l}s far ahead of his time.