ocean

Bane of Beauty

lillian4 Comments

Be afraid,
I am Pterois Volitan.
Beautiful mane of dorsal fins,
lionfish in the reefs.

Venemous.
I eat as I please.
No predators have I,
save men no longer fooled.

I have crossed seas
multiplied,
wreaked havoc
and swim where I please.

Biodiversity be damned.
I am your nightmare
even as day dawns
gracing your shores.

IMG_9736Posted for Napowrimo Day 25. The challenge: to write a poem of warning. Photo taken at the Bermuda Aquarium/Zoo.

Lionfish are native to the Indo-Pacific, but have somehow invaded the U.S. southeast, the Caribbean, and parts of the Gulf of Mexico. Because they are not native to the Atlantic waters, they have very few predators. They feed on small crustaceans and fish, including the young of commercial species. They are dramatically and negatively affecting the fishing economy, native ecosystems and biodiversity.

Gifted by the Sea

lillian60 Comments

Gulls squawk
fight over half-eaten fish carcass,
wave-tossed, then shored
reclaimed to float and churn.

Gathered in hot sun
barefoot seekers squabble,
fingering shards tumbled smooth.
Blue-flowered ceramic slivers,
amber and green bits of hazy glass.

Neptune’s discards,
remnants with anonymous past.
Treasured leftovers.

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I’m hosting Quadrille Monday at dVerse, the virtual pub for poets. The challenge today: write a quadrille (exactly 44 words, sans title) using the word, or a form of the word gather. Photo is a collection of sea glass and ceramic shards from our recent stay in Bermuda. Pub opens at 3:00 PM Boston time. Join our gathering today! Post also shared for day 23, Napowrimo. 

See the Sea . . .

lillian47 Comments

Transplant from concrete city,
hustle-bustle and blaring horns,
she loves all things Bermudaful.

Smitten by color
red flowers peek from handlebar baskets,
her rusty bicycle now a sky-blue.

Today, just as every day
day after day, week after week
she tries to begin a letter home.

Sea breezed salt-flavored lips
gnaw tooth-marked pen.
Mind searches for appropriate words.

The ocean here is so . . .
cerulean, cobalt blue,
aquamarine, azure hued.

Page littered,
crossed out words.
How to write what she sees?

Try again. First words flow,
White-capped and undulating,
turquoise ultramarine waves . . .

 sapphire, Prussian, pastel blue.
Mesmerizing . . . royal blue waters.
Nature defies the dictionary.

Stationery crumpled and set aside,
sun glasses off, wine poured
she makes the long distance call . . .

and simply says two words.
Come see.

 

Bermudaful — another way to say beautiful in Bermuda!  We have 10 days left of our month-long stay in this beautiful island country.

It’s Tuesday Poetics at dVerse, the virtual pub for poets. I’m hosting today and provide folks with a number of images to peruse….all of which, in some ways, evoke the feelings of spring.  “Think young, take the energy of the spring season and think fun, new life, possibilities. Sunny side up, everyone.”  Poets choose one image from those provided in the prompt. (I selected the bicycle). Poems should be motivated by the image, which should be cut and pasted into the post. The poem does not need to be about spring, but it should take us away from the cold and dreary.

Pub opens at 3 PM Boston time. Come see the other images available for this prompt….and put a spring in your step with us!

 

 

Sunken Desire

lillian60 Comments

Spirits beneath the blue
assuaged by filtered sun
and undulating sea grass.

Marauding masked visitors
disturb your sleep,
seek riches beyond the pale.

Wherein lies the treasure?
Corroded trinkets, ancient coins
or peace for lost immortal souls.

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Delighted to host Tuesday Poetics today at dVerse, the virtual pub for poets. Many folks across the globe celebrate holidays during the month of November and December and with that comes visitors to our homes and, perhaps, travel for us. Today, I’m asking folks to write a poem that includes the word “visit” or a form of the word. Photo is from last February’s visit to Bermuda. There are more than 300 sunken ships around the coast of Bermuda – a haven for adventurous divers. Pub opens at 3 PM Boston time — come join us!

Provincetown Morning

lillian59 Comments

Quiet resounds here.
Time reined in, schedules disappear.
Low tide reveals sand swirls,
lazy etchings from past eddies.
Once afloat in deep water
languid sailboats rest askew,
moorings draped in dripping sea grass.
Plover chatter creates far-off natural hum
occasionally interrupted by a raucous gull.
Sipping coffee in a slight ocean breeze
my mind wanders,
savoring the serenity of this place.

 

 

I’m hosting Tuesday Poetics at dVerse today, the virtual pub for poets. Prompt word/s: rain, rein, and/or reign. Folks are invited to use one, two, or all three of these words. The one caveat is the poem must have a positive bent. Come join poets from across the globe — we’re a friendly bunch so would love to have you participate! Pub opens at 3PM Boston time. And yes, I’m in our beloved Provincetown, at the very tip of Cape Cod, Massachusetts. Two glorious weeks in this beautiful place. Photos from our deck. Feet are from a few years back…but others are from yesterday and today. It’s a special place in the off-season. 

The Shadow Knows

lillian29 Comments

There are places and times for pure childlike delight.

We’d been through a stressful year. Death hovered too close to our family. Through the miracles of modern medicine, assisted by angels along the way, we survived. And so we ferried in September to our beloved Provincetown at the very tip of Cape Cod. We walked for miles at water’s edge, marveling at the vast ocean. Our mortal footprints disappeared as the tide returned to shore. We witnessed new dawns. Gazed at a glistening moon path on darkest nights. It was a time of contemplation and somber thankful prayers. 

Until that early morn. Standing in the cool sand, my shadow elongated before me. Cast like a circus lady on stilts. Like mirrors where clowns stretch tall or wide. Magnified to the absurd. And it birthed a smile. And then a chuckle. And then a laugh. Pure childlike delight far beyond my years. And it felt good. 

owls perch and observe
cows chew their cud in solemnity 
spring lambs frolic free


It’s Haibun Monday at dVerse, the virtual pub for poets, and Toni asks us to write about shadows. Any kind of shadows. A Haibun includes one or two paragraphs of prose and it cannot be fiction. The prose is followed by a haiku (3 lines with syllable counts of approximately 5, 7, 5). Haikus are about nature and include a seasonal word. Photo is my shadow in Provincetown. 

She Lives

lillian4 Comments

And her spirit shall live within the sea
immortality within its ebb and flow.

Ashes tossed from sandy shore catch wind,
float quietly ‘neath shifting clouds
sink, adhere to anemones
and sail on dolphin fins.
Her smile illuminates in lunar path,
glistens under golden sun.

And generations shall feel her touch
toes stepping, leaping within her waves.

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Champagne Pond on the Big Island

lillian26 Comments

First time in another world,
a magical low-tide place.

Barrier reef, bared each day,
encloses wandering sea turtles.

Alone at dawn, I smile as rounded gentle heads
break the surface, breathe, and disappear.

Stepping gingerly from dividing ledge
I ease myself into cool waters.

Push off, arms spread wide in wonder
head down with snorkel gear.

I float. Watching. Waiting . . .
in this absolutely quiet place.

Magnificent beings glide by,
slow motion ballet of graceful power.

Heads and legs, speckled green-browns,
protrude from massive solid backs.

Finning wide of me, angling below me
as if I am not there, yet I am. Mesmerized.

Occasionally one peers at me,
our eyes lock and I gasp within my soul.

I am afloat, savoring stillness,
experiencing a mystical time.

Kelly hosts Poetics today at dVerse, the virtual pub for poets, and asks us to write a narrative poem about a “first.”  Photos: the “back yard” of a rental house we stayed at three times in Hawaii, the Big Island. Out of the way, it has its own “pool” of tropical fish, the body of water at the bottom of this photo.  Dug by the owners, it has a wire mesh grate that allows the ocean in and out but keeps the amazing tropical fish they’ve stocked it with, within the pool. Snorkeling there was amazing too. I’m standing greeting the dawn…and the next body of water you see is what’s called Champagne Pond which snakes back, for quite some distance on the left, out of sight. You barely see the pile of rocks/barrier, exposed at low tide, separating the pond from the ocean proper. Two small photos, I took with a cheap, throw-away underwater camera. Large one is a postcard. We’ve not been back for many years but it is a “first” I shall never forget.