The ocean rises.

Poetry, Prose, , , , , , , , , 57 Comments

Fossil bone, a maiden’s cliff
throwing ghosts in the stalactites
there, my ocean is there, and I will die with the thorn in my side;
abyssal shadows are empty, sandstone splits at my cheek,
look at the full-bodied ocean, their fish bones below
the memorial, from so close, I can stand upon the ocean’s bosom,
her white waves upon my fingers
O’ death can make them primitive to infancy—
caving inside the womb, the knot which spreads
across my chest, the umbilicus of our ghosts
like desert sands into the undressing throat
in the frost; if you undress me, this dance has nothing left
the needing none more than a folly from nature,
it dispels its whispers to the mocking bird
bleeding at its neck, which oft turned away
from lips beneath the congeries
avoiding the sea in spindrift edge,
as half-forgotten stones link to the caitiff of hibernations,
we need no more to say as we fall to the black thorns
for other worlds will be our last cankered dark
I will die in the abyssal
Before you, the ocean rises; I sought the tides.

© 2020 lucysworks.com All Rights Reserved.

Written for the dVerse prompt: Write a poem using the word folly in it.

As you can see, I’m quite the romantic.

57 thoughts on “The ocean rises.”

  3. This is deliciously dark and enthralling, Lucy! I love; “I can stand upon the ocean’s bosom,
    her white waves upon my fingers/O’ death can make them primitive to infancy.” 💝

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  4. Ah, you went with the romance of the ocean, Lucy! I love that you made her female in the lines:
    ‘look at the full-bodied ocean
    … I can stand upon the ocean’s bosom,
    her white waves upon my fingers’
    and the birth imagery in:
    ‘caving inside the womb, the knot which spreads
    across my chest, the umbilicus of our ghosts’.

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  9. Death at 22, dark and delicious, illicit love, mantled in lust can be thorny. Your path to the prompt is still (wonderfully) or (wonderfolly) uniquely You, cajoled and caressed into widow’s weeds, and a wife’s fury, whereupon a love temple became a sad and foolish monolith.

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  10. Lucy,
    That she is so caught in the toils of love to such an extent, that even sure death cannot defeat it, is wonderfully conveyed here. I love this phrase: “spindrift edge.” Beautiful.

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  12. kaykuala
    their fish bones below the memorial,
    from so close, I can stand upon the ocean’s bosom,
    her white waves upon my fingers

    Great wordcraft Lucy. The above resonates with Hank. The folly of it all. Love it!

    Hank

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  15. an intense romance … not sure if it’s the young one or his monument to her about to fall into that ocean. An ultimate end to any romance, and the start of an even greater fantasy of what might have been …

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    1. Thank you so much! I wrote with both of them in mind, but mainly with the rumored romance between the Earl-Bishop and Frideswide. Added with the temple so close to the edge, I thought it symbolized quite greatly how intense infatuation can be. With the illicit affair, it was destined to end from the start, but it ultimately ended in the young woman’s death.

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  17. This was a more satisfying read to me than some of your poems because it has a thread of meaning running through it that corresponds to the atmosphere. The very jagged and savage imagery is exactly right for crashing waves on cliffs and violent death.

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