Poetry, we write poems

surround submerge

thursday’s we write poems no 29: swimming
photo: eran hakim, flickr

The memory of the swim in amniotic fluid

been surrounded by water
since i can remember
the slosh and sway of warm liquid
turning and twisting
kicking and kayaking

floating in fetal formation
my heart beats to the
universal design of life
i hear her harmonic voice
composing the way

here i am a few
million breaths later
on my own unattached
surrounded by salt water

blue wave crashing fun
sun soaked nirvana
beneath the pull and push
of seven oceans
and worldly shores
i find my way

Big Tent Poetry, clause poetry, Poetry, quatrain


over at big tent poetry the monday prompt is clause poetry, courtesy of  Briar Cat
photo: talkingplant, flickr

Blue sky, bright light

closed eyes swaying
a hum of happiness soars
then was when my eyes opened to
a wash of waves coming ashore

a thousand yellow suns
broadcasting light and warmth
saturated sunday afternoon swim
closed eyes swaying

the heat was building, sweat and
circumstance soon tore open the sky
billowing buds of bejeweled blue benevolence
a hum of happiness soars

contemplating clouds of clarity
fussy feathers fidgeting for freedom
swept away wings sprouted wide
then was when my eyes opened to

a modest and soothing splash
the tingling touch of cool waters
hinting at a home encompassing wrap
a wash of waves coming ashore

OneSingleImpression, Poetry, tanka


one single impression: this week’s prompt by leo is joie de vivre (the joy of living)
photo: Seashells, miqul, flickr

i’ve used tanka [5-7-5-7-7] and a cleave [for those who wanna know] which was one of the prompts for read write poem april 2010 napowrimo

anchored in your blue eyes  watching the drift of tides
swimming in a sea of blue  shifting sandbar wet door reveal
backstroke blue divine  nestled sleeping shells
submerge serenade sublime   simple treasures lure me near
the line of your lips thrill me   surplus exhilaration

inamorata. lover


huis clos

three word wednesday: drain, epic, nibble
photo: Jason Webber, flickr

35 strokes is all it takes to hit the concrete wall and roll over. two feet firmly planted, push off and begin all over again. a small splash of chorinated water seeps in telling me it’s almost tuesday. cannot help but to nibble at the thought of a perfect workout. in the motion of movement there is an epic passion let loose secreting tiny drops of liquid knowledge one has in exploring the tiny caves of rumination. the drain of desire, the intrusion of attachment, there’s none here only the constancy of connection, water evolution. kicking in a concentrated rhythmic power pattern…i can hear the voice of my coach from 20 years ago…two arms react in a smooth arc of motion…now i’m getting somewhere. the unbearable lightness of being tells me so.

reference….thanks squires