deepundergroundpoetry.com
Fish
I swim with tails on the ends of dreams
boiled in a swell of Summer Sun
stinging sleep.
I slide out
from my clammy skin - a Selkie, howling,
under a New Moon, herding humanity to
a watery home.
A freedom is promised,
only to the fearless, where
terror can make crab meat of a man.
The light rises on the tales retold, reality reclaiming control of the vessel.
I swim toward a blinding Sun
on the tail end of weighted dreams.
boiled in a swell of Summer Sun
stinging sleep.
I slide out
from my clammy skin - a Selkie, howling,
under a New Moon, herding humanity to
a watery home.
A freedom is promised,
only to the fearless, where
terror can make crab meat of a man.
The light rises on the tales retold, reality reclaiming control of the vessel.
I swim toward a blinding Sun
on the tail end of weighted dreams.
Published 26th Jul 2019
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26th Jul 2019 12:31pm
I sometimes wonder how many hear that call deep in the blood of their being part of the Selkie family. There is something inexplicably nautical that pulls some to the sea: fishermen, sailors, and those who just love to be submerged in the depth of beauty. It's interesting how water is weighted, and yet we're weightless in it.
Maybe I relate to this so deeply because my father's people are from Scotland - Aberdeenshire, a small fishing village ( or was then when we visited ). Or how its shore smelled different than any other I have since visited. My mother's people were traced back to the Isle of Skye - she always had a strange withdrawal about her presence, as though she didn't belong, nor wanted to be where she was. Almost reminds me of the Secret of Roan Inish.
There's sea water in our veins, it hums loudest when the moon grows, howling when full.
Maybe I relate to this so deeply because my father's people are from Scotland - Aberdeenshire, a small fishing village ( or was then when we visited ). Or how its shore smelled different than any other I have since visited. My mother's people were traced back to the Isle of Skye - she always had a strange withdrawal about her presence, as though she didn't belong, nor wanted to be where she was. Almost reminds me of the Secret of Roan Inish.
There's sea water in our veins, it hums loudest when the moon grows, howling when full.
Anonymous
26th Jul 2019 2:46pm
Well, damn!
I have never heard of the Selkie myth before, so thank you for that.
And I love the crab meat reference - unique take on the phrase "making mince meat" of someone.
I have never heard of the Selkie myth before, so thank you for that.
And I love the crab meat reference - unique take on the phrase "making mince meat" of someone.
26th Jul 2019 11:33pm
"The light rises on the tales retold, reality reclaiming control of the vessel.
I swim toward a blinding Sun
on the tail end of weighted dreams."
strong and beautiful ending! power to the fish :)
I swim toward a blinding Sun
on the tail end of weighted dreams."
strong and beautiful ending! power to the fish :)
