Different Waters—A collection of poetry from OOP's co-owner Tim Smith. Available now from OOP at $15.00 including shipping. Email owloakpress@gmail.com to place an order or call us at 831.624.8138.
From Different Waters, Poems 1975-2011 by Tim Smith
This Morning, Dreaming
This morning, dreaming of broken ships; the guitar tore a hole in my hull, flooding the bilges. The quick fish of longing pierced me, darts out of the darkness in a secret sea whose depth and shadow no lead can fathom nor light invest with lucid clarity.
I breathe, recalling how the breath took me back then; overwhelmed my defenses; swept with tidal pull, my body undulating under the waves of longing, plunged into the depths of the unnameable ocean.
Joy was a dolphin leaping in my heart, the great whales of sorrow breaching and sounding.
I flailed and wept as one drowning might when at last all seems lost but the surrender that liberates from the fear of loneliness and the oozy twist of pearly-eyed repose.
I thought of you all who had exiled me from your shores, sent me out toward that unknown island of myself; sent out past the familiar, flickering fires, the known profile of your terrain. Looming headlands rising from the salt disappearing in the wake of time.
Six strings fathom me still. Six silver fish like darts. Everything has changed. Everything stays the same.
From Different Waters, Poems 1975-2011
ReplyDeleteby Tim Smith
This Morning, Dreaming
This morning, dreaming of broken ships;
the guitar tore a hole in my hull,
flooding the bilges.
The quick fish of longing pierced me,
darts out of the darkness in a secret sea
whose depth and shadow no lead can fathom
nor light invest with lucid clarity.
I breathe, recalling how the breath took me back then; overwhelmed my defenses;
swept with tidal pull, my body undulating
under the waves of longing, plunged into the depths of the unnameable ocean.
Joy was a dolphin leaping in my heart,
the great whales of sorrow breaching and sounding.
I flailed and wept as one drowning might
when at last all seems lost but the surrender
that liberates from the fear of loneliness
and the oozy twist of pearly-eyed repose.
I thought of you all who had exiled me from your shores, sent me out toward that unknown island of myself;
sent out past the familiar, flickering fires, the known profile of your terrain.
Looming headlands rising from the salt disappearing in the wake of time.
Six strings fathom me still. Six silver fish like darts. Everything has changed.
Everything stays the same.
___Copyright Owl Oak Press 2011____
Different Waters is in the process of being formatted for e-readers. Publication date before 12/31/2011. Keep an eye out here for it!
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