I Sat Beside The Wild Ocean

This poem draws on a trip I took to the lagoon at Bilene in Mozambique ten years ago. Later I found out that my father had visited the same place as a child, and had found a human skull in the dunes.

Making shapes on the beach
Beside a wild ocean
Deep currents thundering
Fingers tracing a pattern
Where my ancestors dug up
Human skulls
In the dunes
Fifty years ago

Here the wind blew
Between he and me, breathless
Singing
This is a journey
Of blood and bone and stone
A birthing cave
Rubbed smooth with use
A billion deep calls and moans
From the pit of the place
Where birth and death
Became the snake eating its own head

These kleshas are tattooed on my skin
They breath and speak
The marks of countless rebirth
This body, slim and brown
Rounded from childbirth
Went raggedly seeking
A feral child
Baring wolf teeth broken in the mirror

If I keep catapulting after truth, will I eventually reach the target?
The saline lagoon, still and comforting
Makes for safe swimming
But I wish for bodies appearing at night
Pushing out the cars stuck in the sand
Making a soundtrack to accompany the stars
Diamond gasps in the warm water
Give this place of beauty
Meaning and music
A rhythm to dance an anchor
Defeating ghosts and pirate nightmares
Feet to the floor
Making love to a golden goddess
Fix the switch
So we can
Turn out
The light

Author's Note

This is my first time here, and first time sharing a poem beyond the safe lagoon waters of my blog. Bit of a disclaimer, but interested to hear what you have to say x

Reviews

[Ty]

This is excellent. I love how the imagery goes from soft to brutal so easily. And I love how tension seems to fluctuate throughout. Great job.