The Primeval Depths of the Sea

That day that he walked through the streets in the rain
To the house of his one enemy
That house on the cliff that could look out for miles
O’er the primeval depths of the sea

It was there that you found her, you told me later
With a hole where her heart should be
The guilty one gone, disappeared like a fish
In the primeval depths of the sea

They say that he took the heart deep in the forest
And buried it under a Hawthorn tree
They say that the tree was quite nearly as old
As the primeval depths of the sea

And he lived out his life in a house in the mountains
In slow, mounting insanity
Until one day he leaped off that very same cliff
Into the primeval depths of the sea

But those are all rumors, put about by your friends
With perhaps not a shred of reality
The truth in fact may be far more dark
As dark as the dead, ancient sea

Your eyes they are bored with the funeral
And as they gaze strangely at me
They have all of the warmth of the icy chill
In the primeval depths of the sea

Fools

I had completely forgotten about this poem. I found it in a box of old scraps of paper I don't want to throw away. Finds like this are the exact reason why.

Are you ready?
Are you prepared?
And do your hands feel okay?
They stayed up all night
Writing the dialogue
For other people
That you don't know
And don't care about

And do you feel the right way round?
Enough so that you and I
Can get up to at least twelve feet
Above the water?

And if not
Than inside the simple world
Can you understand
Why the Big Sharks do
What they do?

And we are are done with the day's activities
Can you forgive me
For saying yes
To the man with white gloves
Because he offered
A sanctuary
For fools like me?

Christmas List

Smiles

Sunrises

Grey clouds

Peace

Serenity

Awe

Sea breezes

Starry nights

Rainy days

Courage

Silhouettes

Sunsets

Bed-time stories

Detirmination

Yesterdays

Tomorrows

Gravel Roads

Empathy

Music

Shades of blue

Poetry

Snow flakes

Hope

Little String

This is a poem I wrote a year or two ago. I edited it a little and thought I might send it out into the world to seek it's fortune. So here it is:

Little String


If this little string that I have found
Has just laid around forever
Then it will continue to do so forever
String experts call this the "Steady State Theory"

If, however, it started from a small fiber
And has grown longer and longer ever since
And will continue to do so
Then this is known as the "Big Bang Theory"

If this is the case
Then there is still the question
Of if it is lying straight, or tied in a loop
It is foggy, so I can’t see

Or perhaps the real question is
Whether or not it is made of even littler strings
And if so,
And if those are also made of yet littler strings
How far down does it go?

I wonder, too, if the string is so little
That I am the only one peering at it
Or if it is long enough
That there are many others
Who wander in the night

One day I will follow this little string
I’ll find where it begins, and where it ends
But for now I will leave it here
And hope it won’t be gone by tomorrow