Poetry & Writing · The Cork Board

Grey Horizon


Grey Horizon

A thousand angels would
quiet that deep demon roar
if she would heed that sense,
that embarrassment.

Oh grey horizon,
of all landscapes and none,
where centuries of sailors packed fears
in sail,
bow to bough,
and sailed for endless
grey horizons.

Why, moon’s constant?
Why so constant?
Lest we ignore your beauty,
your rage, your octaves ?
Is that your greatest fear?

Then shrink, sibilant sea.
Rocks recoil
cleaved by an angel’s kiss,
and kiss.

Though loveless kisses
risk love and worse
I shall purse your salt from my lips,
restore their waxen coat and
tell seadog tales
amassed in yarn and liquid prose

and  bow
to your rage and
your beauty.

10 thoughts on “Grey Horizon

  1. Hello from Scotland 🙂

    I love this, especially since I’m a bit jet laggy from traveling, and the sky is all grey here.

    My favorite bit is:
    “Oh grey horizon,
    of all landscapes and none,
    where centuries of sailors packed fears
    in sail,
    bow to bough,
    and sailed for endless
    grey horizons.”
    Especially “bow to bough.”

    Mmm.

    1. Hey, welcome to the UK. I shall think of you everytime I see the weather forecast say that it’s raining in Scotland !
      Glad you liked the poem. I had quite a traditional style in my mind when I wrote it but decided to dispense with the “thy” s and “thou” s. 🙂

      1. Thanks for the welcome! It’s fun thinking you’re “just” over the border!

        The poem felt traditional to me too, even “thou”-less. 🙂 Very stately.

  2. As a person that grew up with the Atlantic ocean in her backyard, this reminds me of home.. So many stories and emotions swirling around on that Grey horizon..
    Really a lovely poem.. well done my friend across the grey horizon!!

  3. I hit like, but this time it meant love. Especially loved this:

    “Though loveless kisses
    risk love and worse
    I shall purse your salt from my lips,
    restore their waxen coat and
    tell seadog tales
    amassed in yarn and liquid prose”

  4. Alright, I confess, I hadn’t thought of you as a poet until I found this and lingered long enough to digest.

    Ok it’s a bit stilted in places but the flow of words is more than compensated by the intellectual sharpness, the rhythm of the central idea, the ebb and flow of an ocean until the reader does indeed bow to its rage and its beauty.

    RR

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s