He said he was like the ocean, a surging white-crested waveof power sucked from moon and sun, the currents and the undercurrents
all arriving at this place, at this time, by the design of God himself.
I walked the beach shooing away the sandflies and scuffing through
the dried-up seaweed, sending up showers of sandflies that clung
to my lips and my hair. No tide had brought unbroken shells.
He said he thrived on the backs of whales, that he could speak
with the humpback and the sperm, that he knew whalesong
was a way to communicate the great potentiality of God.
Sand dragged at my shoes, not good shoes for walking in sand
and with a terrible foreknowledge I kicked over a mass of kelp
where beneath there lay the bedraggled corpse of a gull
He stripped off his shirt and he looked like a brown crystal vase
from a shop in Beverly Hills. Watch me, he ordered, knowing
his physique was riveting, though expensive, and no one turned away.
I watched as he would have me watch, in semi-sighing awe
as he gathered up his board like a girlfriend and padded to the sea,
that mystery girl I never was nor believed in as I scuffed the beach
But I was turned away when the 20-foot swell took him and his board
that power sucked from moon and sun, the currents and the undercurrents
all arriving at this place, at this time, by the design of God himself.
Chris Alba (c) 2009
Photo courtesyRyan HelmWeslshSurfNRG
5 comments:
Ouch! This is quite a kick in the gut, powerful and riveting. It is a great description, underlined by the flies and the surf and the scuffing on the sand.
Watch me", he said....and God had designed the whole scene. Beautiful! Sad.
Powerful.
Well written story-poem.
PEACE!
Hello sunshine! I love the sea, and your words took me there, right here, right now! Very cool! I'm so glad you're back home safely.
A speck upon the ocean should humble itself before claiming ownership of what is not owned.
Lakeview:
This one began with a first line and took on a life of its own. The grandiose surfer contrasted with the the girl who scuffs through dried kelp interested me. He had the potentiality of God; she had the wrong shoes. He finds Nirvana in whalesong; she finds the corpse of a gull.
Then his pretended power turns on him and his pride. God is always in charge. Gruesome fall feom grace. Voila.
Steve: God designed the outer world while we design the inner. Best remember who's in charge.
Tall Kay: It's good to be home, and I'm glad the words took you to another place.
Walking Man: You said it all in fewer words. Hale!
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