[Corneac]

Stay
with me, her words gutted by sleep
like a reef strangled by the salt-bitten coral,
she mumbles something else,
barely a swell on the horizon,
sending inklings of surf and spray
to the nonchalance of the sky –

the rafters really,
some kid has painted serene waves on the weatherboard
too perfect to be life-like, and too imperfect to be artistic,
he thinks of crayons-
the blue – the snarl of the rip,
the placidity of high tide
the sky, a mirror of the glint of the water at noon…
or the night – mutterings of cloud,
reflected in eerie, unseen depth of the ocean at night-time,
the things nightmares are made of,

a nightmare, a nightmare, he thinks
blinking, almost bemused by the wakefulness of night,
the waves painted on the ceiling,
the sound of the water and wind,
duking it out in some pub-brawl
with only the moon as witness,

he makes a decision,
and send her a glance,
too quick to feel regret
or much, anything at all,
her, curled, like a crescent wave,
restless beneath the blanket and weight of water,
dipped halfway into the doona,
her nose touching the brink,
curling into gravity and sleep,
crashing crashing, always crashing,

without another word, or no words at all,
he slips, quietly as the tide against the dunes,
plucking his surfboard from the sand,
lips puckered, almost mournful as the dawn creeps over the cliffs,
he walks, in search of waves,
much like the kid – crayon in hand,
drawing Blue Grampians-
he draw footprints in the sand

[Venomous Vixen]

I cannot believe this has not been commented on. It's breathtaking and beautiful, the calm of the shores and the sea - melancholy, haunting almost... and the way it parallels the bedroom setting, the 'doona'. I always forget when I go too long without reading your work how much it floors me, and if I was not in such a rush I would give this a proper comment but honestly, it deserves one and I will come back to it and give a better one!

[Vorcla]

I was just going to say - 157 reads and only one comment? That's bullshit, especially for something this good. What in hell's going on - or not going on - around here?

Chris, this is wonderful. I have never seen so much awesome imagery packed into one poem. Like the sea itself, it alternates between calm and turbulence, power and gentleness. If I had to pick one word to describe it, that word would be "Wow!"

"Damned fine" job.

[Nupur]

Wow. I have nothing else to say. Just wow. This is awesome... the haunting feel, the parallels you can draw... amazing. You're getting rep for this one.