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No question of hesitation

you left the water,

and walked the planks

into town.

Changing language

with a flick of your tongue -

tasting the air,

as salted freedom

followed you on the breeze.

Knots untied themselves

as you passed.

Brown eyes

questioned your worth -

but within your presence

there existed no space

for limitations and

only the falling ripeness

of figs

felt the restrictions of gravity.

Not finding the cog

to fit the wheel,

the creaking hull

and the purring engine

cut the tide once more

and you were gone.

No maelstrom.

No force of nature,

only a life, being lived.


Your ghost is a photograph

never taken,

a moment captured,

replayed, flickering

in my memory.

Just a moment from a day,

a moment wherein

I loved your liberty.

The fluidity of your freedom

as you stepped from the water

and onto the land,



your place within

the scheme

of things.

© Deb J July 10th 2011


freedom liberty independance

◄ Displaced

Walkabout ►


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Ann Foxglove

Thu 14th Jul 2011 19:22

Really beautiful poem. I loved it!x

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Laura Taylor

Thu 14th Jul 2011 10:18

mmmmMMMM - what an interesting poem. I like the ambiguity and twist that comes with the almost Christ-like step from water to land, but with that Satanic serpent-like flick of the tongue.

Great title - had to google it, also very interesting, and resonates strongly with me.

There's a quiet strength and power in this, that doesn't need to flaunt, or just IS.

I love this

<Deleted User> (6315)

Mon 11th Jul 2011 16:28

Late in on the act Deb, but better late I think. What a glorious write. I slipped so easily into the feeling of this one :)

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winston plowes

Sun 10th Jul 2011 23:30

Liked this one a lot Deb. hope you are well. Win x

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Graham Sherwood

Sun 10th Jul 2011 22:00

Clearly the best piece of work on here this year to date.

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Dave Bradley

Sun 10th Jul 2011 21:13

As with so many of your poems, Deb, this feels 'woven', enigmatic, teasing. It is vivid yet subtle. If it was a picture it would change with the angle of view

<Deleted User> (9186)

Sun 10th Jul 2011 19:49

Great stuff - Debs

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Anthony Emmerson

Sun 10th Jul 2011 19:44

Hi Deborah,

Svātantrya is a new word to me - thanks for the introduction (you often do that!) I liked this too - both the line Philipos mentions and:

"only the falling ripeness

of figs

felt the restrictions of gravity."

This brought to mind the sea gypsies of the Andaman sea region.

Interesting link too - again, unfamiliar to me.




Sun 10th Jul 2011 18:59

A lovely memory poem from start to finish. Liked especially 'Your ghost is a photograph never taken' to underline a powerful imprint in the mind

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Sun 10th Jul 2011 18:51

A beautiful title that goes so well with the meaning and feeling of this poem, Deb.
I felt as though I was there watching, breathing in the salty air, feeling free and fluid as the waves...


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