Image From Wallpapers.com
swam under the ice
pushed whole lakes with my palms
now my fire has died
From my books Bohemian Scents and Riverthink
Swimming
All posts tagged Swimming
“Swimmer in Yellow” by Gareth Lloyd Ball
time was
I could swim like a fish
cut a slice in the sea
beyond the big breakers
cleave cleansing swells
duck into their overwash
finding sublime
exhilaration
my body a blade
honed by timeless tumbles
in granular surf
slashes man-eater schools
daring their frenzy
my brine-tempered eyes
scorn the unholy threat
in their Silurian gaze
black fins form in gauntlets
slide wickedly past
my undeterred strokes
skimming my sides
feeling my fearlessness
heady were those days
when Neptune’s own fluid
coursed in my veins
and mariner ancestors
gathered to watch me
racing the continents
chasing the sun
pride lifting their ghosts
to the billowing blest
Mediterranean
breeze
but there came a day
aquafortis reached up
enveloped my legs
overwhelming my will
undermining my courage
relentless
it pulled at me
carried me
farther and farther
from shores of my birth
into depths unfamiliar
depositing me
in strange waters that maps called
the ocean of
vulnerability
From my books Range of Motion, Music of Scars and Legacies (vol. 1)
“Swimmer in Yellow” by Gareth Lloyd Ball
time was
I could swim like a fish
cut a slice in the sea
beyond the big breakers
cleave cleansing swells
duck into their overwash
finding sublime
exhilaration
my body a blade
honed by timeless tumbles
in granular surf
slashes man-eater schools
daring their frenzy
my brine-tempered eyes
scorn the unholy threat
in their Silurian gaze
black fins form in gauntlets
slide wickedly past
my undeterred strokes
skimming my sides
feeling my fearlessness
heady were those days
when Neptune’s own fluid
coursed in my veins
and mariner ancestors
gathered to watch me
racing the continents
chasing the sun
pride lifting their ghosts
to the billowing blest
Mediterranean
breeze
(originally posted April 2013)
Image from pinterest.com
swam under the ice
pushed whole lakes with my palms
now my fire has died
“Green Summer by the Pond”
Photo by Rambolive
From flickr.com
placid glimmerglass sheen
stretched canvas of forest and sky
but I can’t find my youth
in the diurnal scud of the clouds
flying faster and further
from halcyon days in the sun
cooled by frolicsome leaps
with my dog from the dock
diving into the depths of my future
now I sit here in invalid’s pose
on the bench that I built with
my pals sixty summers ago
propped and pained by the
memories clenched in my hands
with a flick of my least impaired
arthritic wrist I give sail to a
perfectly triple-skipped stone
breaking into a smile in excelsis
Photo by Chris Omtvedt
At derek.broox.com
the waters of faith
fill an uneasy lake
chilled by qualms
cold in underflow
currents churned down
below trustworthy reach
by warm rays of the sun
leaving divers to ponder
one probable truth
the deep end of doubt
sinks to destitute
dark disbelief
near the bottom mud
bristling with indigent
agnostic bones
“Swimming Hole”
Photo by Bert DeVriendt c. 1940s
From betag.pasty.com
leave adult worries
in your disrobed pants pockets
plunge into childhood
Canis Major Constellation
Illustration from kerstinayachi.girlshopes.com
adrift in an outrushing
midnight black sea
beg titanic Asteria
light up the stars
guide a swim to Orion
climb up for red rest
on his Betelgeuse shoulder
yell back down to home
that you made the much
vaunted middleway mark
then dive into the turn
for that Big Dog at play
in much deeper dark waters
redrawing your strokes
for his Sirius nose
whitest gem in the night
where to die in its flame
gives your light to forever
Photo from bubblews.com
time was
I could swim like a fish
cut a slice in the sea
beyond the big breakers
cleave cleansing swells
duck into their overwash
finding sublime
exhilaration
my body a blade
honed by timeless tumbles
in granular surf
slashes man-eater schools
daring their frenzy
my brine-tempered eyes
scorn the unholy threat
in their Silurian gaze
black fins form in gauntlets
slide wickedly past
my undeterred strokes
skimming my sides
feeling my fearlessness
heady were those days
when Neptune’s own fluid
coursed in my veins
and mariner ancestors
gathered to watch me
racing the continents
chasing the sun
pride lifting their ghosts
to the billowing blest
Mediterranean
breeze
