Erosion

with one hand, you held the granulated heart

            of our beach --

black like the grit of sand scraped from paper,

or pulverized coal just beginning to form diamond dust

 

I watched it slip through your ink stained fingers

in a shocking waterfall of wasted memories

 

each grain told a story, but they were lost to the breeze --

            laced fingers and lovesick eyes,  

            abalone shells glowing iridescent

            on Moonstone Beach,  the first time

            we tasted nirvana on our tongues

nothing more now than a pile of earth at our bare feet

 

because you forgot how to pronounce my name,

and I could no longer hear your voice when I cried

 

my own hands were not enough to gather the remains

            of our broken stars --

I watched the last trace of us linger above the tide line

before returning to the earth, where stolen moments

find lasting embrace in slowly eroding shores

Reviews

[Paul Seaman]

You gotta like Black Sand. Especially running it through your fingers as an allegory.

[Linda Marie Van Tassell]

I love this poem on every level. It's poetic in the rawest form and reminds me of one of my favorite quotes, by Leonard Cohen: "Poetry is just the evidence of life. If your life is burning well, poetry is just the ash."

Beautiful!

[Emerald Seas]

Wow this is so sorrowful. A strong write. I enjoyed the read very much.

[aria]

I was married on the beach. There we stood at little more than 20 years old: fingers laced, feet bare, making promises we would both end up breaking a million times over. We picked the spot we did because we had gone there on the night of our first date and walked and talked the night away. I remember on that night he played with the sand-- furtive about holding my hand.

When he ended things and I moved back from the mountains of North Carolina to the town that held "our" beach I couldn't stop thinking of that image of him, cross-legged in the sand letting the powdery white grains slip through his fingers. Your poem felt so close. Like when you find yourself singing along with a sad song. I felt like I already knew the words to this one. It really touched me.

[Girl Friday (Sarah W.)]

Thank you so much for your open and honest review...I feel for you...

[Jack...]

Not sure how I missed this one, but I found it. Better late than never...

Heartbreaking, the pain and sadness in this poem reaches deeply into me, pulling those emotions from my core and placing me on guard, ready to protect your heart if need be. You have a way of drawing me into your world via your words and holding me captive, though not against my will, for I run swiftly to the scene and once there, standing firm to face whatever harm may come your way...

Amazing my friend.

[Girl Friday (Sarah W.)]

Aaaww...thank you, Jack! I think you my biggest fan...certainly my best cheerleader. I appreciate you so very much!

[Cookie]

This is so sad, but beautiful. I love it.

[Girl Friday (Sarah W.)]

Thank you so much, my friend :)

[Nick.B]

Interesting way to show the feeling of that love that is lost, that broken soul who is standing into the night, alone...great job

[Girl Friday (Sarah W.)]

Thank you so much :)

[Glen Yumang Manese]

These line capture this moment and I see why you put them in italics:

laced fingers and lovesick eyes,
abalone shells glowing iridescent
on Moonstone Beach, the first time
we tasted nirvana on our tongues

Sets the entire piece into this...once the starting lines comes to grips with the reader...I liked how you conveyed the return of the sand back to the ocean...like life for what we make of it...goes to a lasting hiatus...into the abyss of nothingness...

[TL Boehm]

my own hands were not enough to gather the remains
of our broken stars --
achingly sad. strongly penned

[Girl Friday (Sarah W.)]

Thank you so much...I'm glad you latched on to those particular lines; they meant the most to me in this piece, i think.