Sea Shanties

Deep sea blues, I got the Dead on my mind

Christ walks on water but I drown, and when

he reaches out with lotus hands to lift me abreast

the crescendoing wave, I see scores of bodies below.

Two brothers born of light, one of lightning, one of sun.

Orion and Sirius biting in a swan song the necks of twins.

Raising legions and legends to fight their ego-trip of rivalry.

I say, put an end to the crown sought after by angel and immortal

alike, melt down the gold to make my throne, and I will seat an octopus

atop the celestial kingdom, branching vertebrae tangles like mermaid hair,

suckers of tentacles hooked into the brains of billions, dancing marionettes.

So sweet Savior, let’s reunite Heaven and Hell, and kiss blues away, then sing

of a place where honeysuckle strangles and the figs bleed. Sickly sweet. At the

bottom of the sea is a treasure chest of Heaven’s lost songs. Unlocking it takes my

heart, but I have always been a skeleton key, so come Hell or high water, I will be

undone.

Madre Maria at the Ocean

Rushing tide at the juncture of placental waters,
rocking to sleep in the womb of the night, moon’s
sweet cradle and her son’s starlight tongue, lips
like salt water and pure springs, tangy sweet, at
my mouth, spearing my sex, bringing new ways to
curse God while also screaming His name in ecstasy.

The waves come crashing, pinnacling with foam, and
mermaids become but lost souls on the shores, so
open your depths to me, sweet Stella Maris, and I
will dive for pearls in your bosom, Madre Maria.

Sex By the Beach

As I nestle like a nettle between your neck and the crook of your wings, I breathe in sand on this vacation paradise that we stray to when stars fall and all that is left are shores of the bones of our fathers and seas oceanic water from Jesus’ side.  I am splayed across you like a shipwreck, holding on for dear life as the tide washes me, and you kiss me quite senseless and anchor me with the weight of a gander at infinity.  Like a swan, you are all long wings of white and skin of painted shadow eyes with a cruel mouth meant for snapping, only your lips are full, full predator, full cruel, and when I taste your tongue’s sweetness I’m waiting for the bitter cherry aftertaste like I just sucked on a stone.  Hands caress, fingers dance like spiders, through my hair, I roll around with you turning this froth of madness, we are warm against the Atlantic, two lovers stranded on No Man’s Land.  Sirens call, seagulls croon, and the waves careen like galloping steeds onto us as oblivion pulls her mermaid jest of depths and coral and lost treasure.

Do not give into the tide.  We rise, we walk on, we are not what the ocean would make of us, bloated corpses whose feet fall off first, Hiroshima tsunami of consequence.

No, we make love by the seaside, but then the island calls, and we walk on, on into the pines, to higher ground, past dunes and sea grass and swales, and I am leaving the wreckage of my safe passage behind for danger, but it is a calculated risk, and so it rains, pure water this time, and it coaxes my skin to bloom, a harsh cry from the dredge ocean black.

Hand in hand into sweet night in the seaside cottage.

It was always warmer inside, anyways.

Beatitude

The water embraces me like a womb,
filled with treacherous sirens and
mermaids with pearl bosoms, I swim
free as a penguin gliding in blue,
the depths call to me like a hymn,
drawing on old refrains with tides
that pull me down, down to the gold
treasures of the deep, sunken glory
and pirate’s delight, I navigate by
sunstone to a distant rocky shore,
my angel and demon await me atop the
cliff top, I grapple with scree to
ascend the ocean’s edge, my angel
spreads his wings and carries me
across the trembling waters, my
demon stays on the sand, soaking
in sun that speaks of burning stars.
It is a beatitude of broken sailors,
and I am adrift with purpose, row
to my dreams, frolic with dolphins,
pledge my troth to my soul’s captains,
and the marina is alive with the moon.