Poetry Blogs (2019, tide)

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raypool on Postcards (1 hour ago)

The Estuary

I am

barefoot

on a far tide line

sand rippled

spread

with estuary shells

with oystercatchers

soft where rills run down

or the sea pools

behind a half-sunk stone

or a mooring chain

I am

watching

moored yachts

swinging to the tide turn

above their sunken reflections

angled lines of cirrostratus

echoed below the horizon

in the mirror gloss sea

...

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beachboatscloudsestuaryreflectionsriversandseaseaweedtidetide line

Images of a High Tide

harbour entrance swell

river bridge

above the beach

the scraping rattle

millions of stones

sucked off the beach

returning to the sea

 

beside the harbour wall

crossing waves

rearing waves

joining

breaking in foam

crashing

onto the shingle

the vast pull

of the receding sea

the undertow of sound

 

the bay

grey brown sea

under a blue sky

...

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beachdriftwodfishing netsharbourseaseagullssurftideundertowwaves

Summer Seascape

In the sun's mid-day heat

I see the tall field grasses flow, swell

and come towards me in waves               

surging before the day's wind

the seed-head spume constantly bowing

seems to fall on the field strand where I stand.

The rhythmic onslaught of the waves

continues through the long afternoon - 

a tide of wind-driven swells and rollers

always flowing to my feet, w...

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beachebbfieldsharvesthayhay fieldsseaswellstidewaveswind

Conversation in a Harbour Cafe

It was all in her eyes

When he said

I

He saw the tear

When he breathed

L

O

V

E

He knew her mind

When he stopped

 

Outside the mist rolled in

As ropes slipped off bollards

 

When he left

He heard her say

M

Y

When the door slammed

He hoped she said

L

O

V

E

When he heard

It was all in his mind

 

Outside the engine sta...

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cafeconversationfogharbourleavinglovemooringsquaysailingskippertide

Adamson Adrift

This piece, over twenty years old, came to me largely in a dream about being a poet.

 

Adamson Adrift

We sat on the wharf at East Balmain,

where the ferries make the Harbour

never still,

 

and Robert Adamson floated away

with grace on the violent tide,

as we looked on the streams

of the living

(as in air, we were in motion)

 

and in action, and relative calm

...

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AdamsonblossomingCaribbeanHarbourHart Craneindifferencelivingmagpiestidetransparency

Turn Of The Tide

Low ripples creep in eager waves,

Reclaiming grains of wind-blown sand,

To lay them flat within the damp, cemented matrix,

By degree, each one,

In exposed space,

Is over-run,

Again with water weight,

Where fine currents caress and roll,

The grains that had once been free.

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sandseatidewaves

The Extent Of The Tide

And so I walked the full extent of the tide,

To where once-fronds of bladder wrack lie,

Fallen branches where air balloons find their specific gravity awry,

A rippling sandscape sculpt by rolling water,

Carpeted with greening algal strands plumose in the quiescent remaining pools,

Seagulls at the edge,

Scouring newly exposed beach,

Beneath the dark-faced island.

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seaseasidetide

Tide Turn

A full moon, and the tide swollen by rain;

Rain lashing on the window, wild as rage -

My pen is stirring on the unspoilt page

In scribble circles, feeling round this pain.

 

Like tunnels leading deeper than my mind,

Or ropes in hopeless tangles, loosely curled,

Sprawling intestines looped around the world

My pen describes; this pain is ill-defined.

 

The ...

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ChangemoodsmoonPaintide

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