The Voice of the Sea
The Voice of the Sea
I
“The voice of the sea is seductive; never ceasing, whispering, clamoring, murmuring, inviting the soul to wander for a spell in abysses of solitude; to lose itself in mazes of inward contemplation. The voice of the sea speaks to the soul. The touch of the sea is sensuous, enfolding the body in its soft, close embrace.”
Sound the alarms!
Clear the deck,
And make way for the storms.
Rise up, you sour
Rise up, you sore
From the splintered wood deck—
A storm is coming!
Then one to follow
And the mast is quite hollow,
So take hand in hand;
Swim to the sands
Where dust blows with leaves
And heaves o’er the land.
But soft, where the seas creep
In ripples of rot:
The men on the ship decks,
A stumbling lot.
Yet I care for them all!
The rats and the flies,
The sails and the sides,
The Poets; the Peasants.
So do I, then, with my friends and my sights
And my books and my lights
And my uncooked meals and reels;
Do I, now, under the half-lit moon,
Dare to question the face of the ocean?
And then, to what noble has set us a’sail,
I tell you, with a small breath of peace in my smile:
The sun is bright,
The moon is strong,
But no force of skies
Can shift the tides
When Seirenes call
II
Techno friend
Always right
Techno stars
Echo light
Every star
Is the same
In this Sea
Of endless rain
Give the birds a final chance
To reach up to the sky and dance;
But when they fall,
The Kings shall sing
That all have sunk
to brainwashing
III
The royalty, in his coat of ten colors
And the grey electric of his skin
Dips his pen into the ink:
“is it possible” says the prince,
“to row and go where no man knows?”
Says the captain: “Aye! But
Don’t you know that all would die?
All would die; none would fly!
All would surely drown and die!”
Sea-shanties roar, echoed by the floor;
Cries sent out in bottles to locate something near
“Consider it joy, then, my fellow seamen,
When the captain makes orders ensuing the end”
The world has unfurled with an audience of four—
Four corners, four waters—
But do not inquire about their device;
Settle on wisdom
not on ice
IV
Do you not remember?
The Day of Ruination.
And some reckonings.
Some restless farewells
Some cracking of shells
Upon the greening
Of the scene:
An awakening.
At which time you slept
And lay down and wept.
The piles of perfect wood
Men in their thick hoods
Black
And the scents sent by maids
Subtle sentences; barricades;
The blending of the backdrop.
Sweet Atlantic, flow softly til I find home
The sun’s time was ticking
The dock’s gates were clicking
The family was sobbing –
What is a man to do,
At an hour such as this one?
ripple
The waters make us one:
Equal, but sinking;
Stable, but drowning.
But lands give us home:
Parlous, yet bounding;
Scarring, yet sounding;
For what is there among the waters
that can redirect what’s been risen in a soul,
or what seed has rooted in a mind?
Aye, but still, there is nothing here
And nothing there, no—
No plant, nor fruit, nor sycamore tree
Nor bird of flight, nor flower of sight –
That will silence the black, bursting thunder of waves
crashing below.
ripple
ripple
By eagle’s way, seeds disperse
Over the four eyes of the earth
Blown on by the winds of Anemoi
To be born into conscience as a fruit for a neighbor
As a salt for the seas
As a rain for the wasteland.
ripple ripple
ripple
Sweet Atlantic, flow softly til I find home
Won’t you please recall?
How quickly trees can fall
Like dust escapes the saw?
The bitter birds caw-caw
Their homes proceed to rot.
The oceans like a clot
Swell up now (as they’re taught)
And open up arms
To birds they once had harmed.
Can you not hear their charm?
Listen closely.
Can’t you hear their sweet, sweet charm?
ripple ripple
ripple ripple
crash.
V
Reach to the skies, yes, my friend,
Stretch out your hands and try!
The sky holds the ocean
But the ocean holds waste –
Of human and fish and mem’ries erased
All that it knows and all that it sees
Will never amount to break this disease
All the water you need is the rain, child
All that you need is the rain.
Flowing in waves of mindless decryptions:
Your death, your fall from the Main.
VI
Have I become your enemy
By speaking of the truth?
The crashing waves will wound you deep
And rippling bates forever creep:
Now come off your ship
my friends
Come off the deck with graceful step.
Come off now and sing to the Sun:
Jnana-Yoga
Shantih Shantih
hail mary,
full of grace.
the end of suffering.
our lungs are full of seaweed wroth
our brains are drowned and out of taste
we lower down when serienes call
unto another empty face