Here’s some 2014 poetry. It is more a vision than anything else. A man makes a journey on the back of a dolphin, and sad, whimsical things happen. I’m not sure what influences are on it. Written as it was at the farm, it is immersed in echoes of past days that I knew as little about as Coleridge knew about the sea, not being able to experience the reality (curse you railroad of time!). Perhaps I may give credit to that old dresser in that one bedroom, or the creaky floors, perhaps to the satin and velvet roses in the glass bell, or to strange memories. Wherever it came from, I do know this poem is a simple tale, told by a child, and I hope you enjoy it.
Her eyes struck him with starshine
and he dropped into the sea.
The fishes nibbled on his toes
all serendipity.
His vacant eyes they swept the sands
deep blueness shot with gold.
A red heart caged in whitened tusks
pumped blood with passion bold.
He took a dolphin by the fin
it dragged him to the sky.
They leaped together in the dusk,
through nighttime long and wry.
Their conversation grew quite dull –
a sigh, a saddened gaze.
For man and beast were held in chains
within the ocean’s haze.
The dolphin longed for waters
calm and sunny, clear and light –
The man, he longed for woman
waiting with her eyes so bright.
They cried and cried ’til morning,
when the somber sun came up,
to steady their hands (or fins)
with strength to drink the bitter cup.
Dark fury bathed the man’s strong brow
the dolphin’s smile was grim,
the man would find another love,
the dolphin swim and swim.
But when again the stars awoke,
reflecting in the pool,
the man thought of his lady’s eyes,
and thought himself a mule.
Upon the dolphin’s back he stood,
rocking a lullaby,
the moon said, “Hold on tight, m’dear.”
He gave a pond’rous sigh.
Crouching down, the man looked up,
he wondered if heaven was true.
His last sight was the Northern star,
he shouted, “Now adieu!”
Down through mazes of eerie depth
the dolphin delved its way.
The man went limp and
on the current floated far away.
She found him sprawling on the shore,
his face was whitewashed clean.
With agony she begged to God
that it were all a dream.
Far away, Timbuktu,
the dolphin found the best;
its waters sunny, clear, and bright,
at last some joy, some rest.
But weak in fin and bleared of eye,
The dolphin was overtired,
On the sunny shore of Timbuktu
it finally expired.
From impulse perished one,
the other intentions grand,
and far away a woman weeps
and a dolphin lies in the sand.