Preferably the dreams
Arriving from the blue sea
To the pentameters of oars
What it means
To have instead of coins
These spirited verses
Ashore the ghosts set fire
To their own ships
To bar the way back
Here they trace the portents
On the incoming tide
And make their final stand
- Comment
- Reblog
-
Subscribe
Subscribed
Already have a WordPress.com account? Log in now.
naïve haircuts 
Sounds inspired by the Invasions. Nice job, Bob.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks! I read the Iliad last year…that may be part of it.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Ah, very good. I can picture the ghosts of our dreams, trying to block the dreaded reality from arriving . . .
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks, Diana. When you got a good dream going, you just want it to last a little longer.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I love ‘the pentameters of oars’ and I’m a fan of ‘spirited verses’ too —
LikeLiked by 2 people
Thanks, John! Glad those resonated with you. 😊
LikeLike
one time i was in a lake in a canoe, not too far from Milwaukee. anyway, i struggled mightily with the oars until my dad told me to not go so deep, to just skim the surface and after that adjustment, the canoe stopped turning and we got a little speed and it was “spirited” with no risk of falling like there is in skiing…”ships” and “incoming tide”……this whole piece, rooted in water, in the arrival of water, the incoming tide. I’m reminded of the few times i’ve been beside an ocean which kind of feels like a dream now. My grandpa retired in florida and used to swim in the atlantic every non rainy morning.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I’ve been wanting to visit the ocean lately. It’s been years since I’ve stood/swam in it. It would be great to swim in it every day. Though I guess you’d have to live in warmer climates. Though at this point, I’m just ready to have spring food in.
LikeLiked by 1 person
it is huge, the ocean. i wish i didn’t know about sharks. then i’d be less scared of swimming in oceans, but i bet the next time i’m there i won’t think about sharks. it’s like being on a plane and not thinking about all the controlled explosions going on while a stewardess smiles and offers us a nice cup of coco.
LikeLike
“To the pentameters of oars”: nice. Yet the poem has approximate trimeter lines–in tercets. So there’s an almost traditional orderliness about it, though the absence of punctuation enables me to float through it like a ghost. I like free verse that’s haunted by the ghost of a traditional prosody. This one is two lines short of a sonnet too.
LikeLike