Swim with me, the
Seething mass of time.
Swim, the ocean’s foaming steed,
Ferociously broken at peak.
Swim with me,
Dawn’s swollen curves,
Meandering in dripping dew’s
Translucent pearls.
Plunge, the pit-black of life,
The inky-blue night sky,
Mid-night
Dares not illustrate,
Once day has fed
On honey dew and illicit roux.
Swim with me,
The bubble of extinction,
Decay’s constant creation,
Taunting death by life’s seduction.
Swim with me
Adam’s rib,
Formulating woman’s lib.
Swim, the arc of Time,
Fleshing and withering the olive branch,
Recoiling on Syria and Lebanon’s
Ebony ground.
Swim with me….
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Heavy. Wet words. Had it gone on in tha direction without depth I would have found it facetiously prosaic. But not from you. BAM.
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Thank you Phil.
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That’s a real challenge of a poem for me… still re-reading and pondering. “…the ocean’s foaming stead…” Did you mean “steed” or does “stead” have a meaning I am not aware of?
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Thank you for pointing that out, yes, “steed”. it was a challange writing it too. I’m thinking it’s missing a binding element, or something… constructive criticism would be helpful.x
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