Saturday, 14 August 2010

With The Flow

Deeper, deeper – I was dragged
Until only blue remained;
Murky, turbid, whirling wrath…
I fought. I fought. Then I waned.

Tossed about with murderous flair
I clawed my way; I was hauled and keeled
I seized each wave with immense faith
And then again, as they did yield.

Like whips and daggers, the spray outlash’d
Puncturing my chest now fresh with breath
And then the logs came floating by
Meandering gently with the flow…

Yonder lay shore’s seductive sand
And yet it lay so far away
My every stroke towards the shore
Rendered harmless by tumultuous spray

I stared at the logs floating by
Riding the crests; gentle, unmarred –
And then the logs went floating by
With the flow, a few wrong yards…

Burning eyes and flailing limbs
Bursting lungs; I felt heavier now
The current was strong; I could still
Shore myself, with one more blow.

I fought to keep my dying breath
As I stared at the logs floating by
Once mighty oaks; so meek in death
They would live and I would die?

I stared at the logs floating by
And managed a smile at the irony,
Drifting away with effortless ease
So what if they swam a few wrong yards?

The easier way of the logs beguiled
The flow was too strong to oppose
So I wilted in the pellucid flow
And maybe now I’ll enjoy the course.

4 comments:

  1. Yeats, Shelly level stuff........totally

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  2. I liked the poem actually. Classy. Felt it was different from your other ones. :)

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  3. Classy. Write songs and go Pink Floyd da.

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  4. @ PiSRA,
    Assuming you said that with a straight face, danke.

    @ R (?),
    Thank you da...

    @ Vixie,
    That's much too great a compliment. Gilmour, Waters and Barrett are far too great.

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