The Sea, The Sea

Listen, don’t you hear the cries of invisible gulls?—Albert Camus

I.

Daughter of

The Sea

Where my brooding soul was

Born, where Time began,

You were mine, Love, before

The stars were born, before

The Sea

The Sea ...

You and I, Love, divided now

By Time, by silence tyrannous,

By wounds ... I wander, Lost,

Between the earth and sky,

My thoughts, tempestuous,

Drift like waves in a white

Fury of foam where my wild

Heart seeks refuge along

Forsaken shorelines of

The Sea

The Sea ...

II.

No one but I remembers

The bright pink roses on your

Dress that day as we walked

Hand in hand, and kisses fell,

One by one, like the glimmering

Waves amid white fury

Of foam where now I wander,

Lost, between the silence and

Pulsating murmur of waves—

And in the Eternity of a kiss,

And the bright song of

The Sea

The Sea ...

My heart seeks Living Waters

To make the flowers rise,

And bloom again. You and I,

Love, our kisses fell, one by one,

Wave by wave, as now my

Sadness rises, falls, wave by

Wave, as our kisses fell, and

In the breath-like rise and fall

Of waves, a beating heart

The Sea

The Sea ...

III.

Our kisses fell, Love, wave by

Wave, but now I only hear your

Voice, the wet cry of a sea-bird,

Piercing the afternoon air over

Sun-glistening waters, above

The waves, falling one by one,

As our kisses fell, your music rising

From the whispering surf, a sad

Lullaby, the melancholy song of

The Sea

The Sea ...

IV.

Wave by wave, in the sad song of

The Sea

The Sea ...

I hear your Voice—shape of

My sorrow, mirror of my Soul—

Form Immense, of salt and fire,

Of blood, pulsating and bitter,

Tasting of tears. I wander, Lost,

Along forsaken shorelines beneath

A darkening sky, fading sunlight

Casting shadows over silent depths.

The Sea

The Sea ...

The shape, Immense,

Of my brooding Love,

Dying wave by wave—

A sad and lonely Voice

The Sea ...

--for Neruda

Free, Little Bird

My lady sweet, arise:

Arise, arise!—Shakespeare

I’m setting you free, little bird

To fly, to fly

To the heavens, to the heavens

Free, little bird

To fly, to fly

On swift wings, on swift wings

Free, little bird

To fly, to fly

As love flies, as love flies

Free, little bird

To fly, to fly!

Her Sorrow is Deep

A fathomless and boundless deep,

There we wander, there we weep.

—Wm. Blake

Her sorrow

Is

As deep,

As dark,

As the

Ocean.

The fathomless

Bottom

Of her soul

Swarms

With

Alien life—

Dark and ancient

Tides,

Glass-eyed phantoms,

Pale as moons—

Spectral whispers

Of the dead.

There, a Garden

We planted, there, a garden fair

Of lavendar and rose;

And through so many seasons

We watched it bloom and grow.

We planted, there, a garden

One Sunday afternoon,

And watched it grow so fruitful --

A blessing and a boon.

We planted, there, a garden,

Watched it growing like a child;

It grew lush and overflowing --

Bright-colored, fragrant, wild.

We planted, there, a garden

Of orchids and jasmine,

And watched it in its seasons

Bloom and die, and bloom again.

We planted, there, a garden;

Its' sweetness drew the birds and bees;

We listened to the hymns of life

In shade beneath the Redwood trees.

We planted, there, a garden

To last through all the years;

But when the time for dying came

We watered it with tears.

So now our time has ended,

But still that garden grows.

We planted, there, a garden fair

Of lavendar and rose.

One Day My Sweetheart

One day my sweetheart

Sat high on a wall.

The next day my sweetheart

Had a great fall.

And all of her doctors

And all of her friends

Couldn't put my poor sweetheart

Back together again.

Eyes of Love

O me, what eyes hath Love put in my head,

Which have no correspondence with true sight!

—Shakespeare

At first the eyes of love are blind. Everyone knows the lover sees only what they want to

See, fitting the mask of the ideal tightly over the face of the Beloved, as if they are in fact the

One True Love. But all lovers are merely human as we are, and one day the mask begins to

Slip. And the face in the mirror looks different than we expected, not like we imagine the

One True Love. (More like we are) And no longer is it possible to cloak human imperfection

With denial. Thus, begins the greater alchemy of love: transmuting baser substance into gold.

The Look

She has the look that men admire.

Her form, the shape of their desire.

(If only she wasn't such a liar!)

She has the look that men admire.

She has a look of such allure.

My doom, of that I can be sure.

(If only her heart were pure!)

She has a look of such allure.

She has the look that men adore.

One glance and they want more.

(If only she wasn't such a whore!)

She has the look that men adore.

O Love, My Companion

O Love, my companion, from the sea I cannot hold you or

The sweet-smelling earth of your vanishing land. I cannot

Hold you, as I cannot hold the air I breathe -- or the clouds,

The night, or the sun. Sometimes, Love, you need a little freedom

And re-enter those silent depths where you lived before

Me and on a lonely isle, I wait for you -- shipwrecked, bereft of

Hope, sad as an empty room. But today, Love, you rise again –

Beautiful, luminous, naked – from the glistening sea. And the

Black skies are rent with your piercing, golden shafts. The

Storm falls asleep with the night. Only yesterday this passion

Raged on – a tempestuous sea! But golden clouds, your tresses,

Drift gracefully, now, through the clear sky. Love, my senses are

Waking, opened wide by the touch of sunlight as between your

Soft knees, some dark and ancient secret opens. Suddenly, Love,

You and I are together again, breast to breast, eyes shining

Wide like the bright rays of dawn. O Love, my Companion,

You have left me too often without your sweet kisses, but tonight,

With the return of deep blue twilight, your ripening womb will

Grow fertile again. As full and as ripe as a Mexican moon.

--for Aphrodite

Summer's End

Tonight is summer's end. Tonight my eyes do not know where to find her. Tonight I fear that I

Have lost her. The first icy chill of autumn kisses my face in the breeze. All about me dead leaves

Fall and whirl on the pavement of the dark alley where I walk alone, under a crescent moon.

Without warning, the one I love has disappeared, a moon lost in its shadow. (And I feel my heart

Dying and falling with the leaves.) Tonight is summer's end. Tonight my eyes do not know where

To find her. Tonight will be so long without her. Hidden in her vast silence she has suddenly grown

More distant than the stars.

Pink Carnations with Black Bow Ties

She gave me a bouquet of pink carnations. No woman has ever done that for me before.

There are seven of them. Around their stems tiny silk ribbons are tied like black bow ties.

I place them upon my bedroom altar. When I awake the next morning my room is filled with

Numinous sunlight. For the first time I notice that the bright pink flowers on the wallpaper that

Covers my bedroom walls are also carnations; the charm of her flowers transforms my world.

But now she is far from my room. When she left she tore herself from my body like a branch of

Maple; sweet syrup still oozes from my wound. All day I weep for her like a child. Her presence

Barely lingers anymore, and the pink carnations with black bow ties are all dead.

She gave me a bouquet of pink carnations. No woman has ever done that for me before.

A Turning in You

There is a turning in you like the changing of seasons when summer becomes fall.
There is a turning in you as swift as the arcs of a swallow in flight.
There is a distance in it, remote as the stars; and deep, as if some chasm opened wide within
You and swallowed everything.

There is a turning in you that seems final as the moment when the last breath leaves the body.
I can’t touch you there when your heart turns in on itself, like a tiny fetus, and grows silent –
A landscape covered with frost.

There is a turning in you that sounds lonely; a stark wind wails in some distant cave.
There is a turning in you that is sad, like the whirling of wheels within wheels.
And your soul changes then like the moon turning black, like the changing of seasons

Turning in you.

The Teacup

My heart was as empty as an Oriental teacup.
Then you came along and poured yourself into me.

You filled me to the brim; then you overflowed me.
As deep as the ocean, I could not contain you.

That was weeks ago. You are still overflowing.
... You who are flowing everywhere! …

But my teacup is empty again, shattered as if by stone.

Abandoned

It is five a.m. I suddenly awaken from a dream.

My chest is on fire, and I remember now, that I have lost her.

A large beast stirs suddenly in the leaves outside my window.

My world is reduced to a thunderous silence pounding in my ears.

A fire consumes me from within like the furnace of a sun.

I cannot move and my eyes stare without seeing.

O I have been abandoned.

The woman I loved like no other has left me.

Ten thousand fiery devils dance on the needle of my pain.

It happened so quickly, the way that she left me:

Vanished, a dead leaf blown hither by the wind.

Just three days ago, she told me I completed her.

Then she left without warning, a thief in the night.

O I have been abandoned.

Cast adrift on a night sea, in a boat without rudder or sails—

Under the full moon, voices of the dead call to me like birds.

Almost Nothing Left of Her

Today there is almost nothing left of her. She is gone. And

Only the intoxicating aroma of her perfume, and the fading

Smell of her sex, lay upon my flowered sheets. The odor of her

Presence lingers everywhere, and my room is no longer mine.

Nor my heart. Her presence fills the spaces of my room like

Roses and sunlight. My head is swimming in her and from

Afar her thoughts revolve in me like falling leaves.

Longing

One day, I would like to seal your body with my sweet kisses. I would

Bite your mouth gently as if sampling a ripe cluster of grapes. I would

Loose all your boats from their moorings to drift free in the gathering storm.

I want to be with you as a farmer with his field at sunrise. I want to

Do with you what nature does with flowers in springtime.

Meanwhile, my eyes wait with my heart just to see you. In the

Darkness, the wind is still singing but you are not with me. The

Moon is full, and I am alone with my dreams.