a pacific night







the first night she sits by herself

in the coffee shop, reading.








i was sitting alone in the coffee shop, reading.








reading over a cup of decaf,

alone, the place is empty.

annie comes by, i've seen her around.


she sits across from me,

lights flashing across her forehead

like the goodyear blimp. we make conversation.

the lights glow brighter, evermore insistent. i am not sure.

she leaves.


the next night is the same,

but we leave together.

the stairs to her second floor apartment

are on the outside of the building,

and the dreary, dark, dank, depressing night follows us up the steps

like a country and western song,


the wooden steps sodden,

the soft west-coast pine

saturated with pacific drift,


drifting up the stairs,

drifting into bed,


the pacific swells, the waves,

the surf, the cry of gulls, the sand pipers

stabbing at coquina and dancing away from incoming waves.


beautiful, thick, long, black, sutorētohea

spread across white pillows

white skin

legs opening and closing, sea-mist scent, bivalve lovers

white sheets whiter in the moonlight

legs whiter in the moonlight, but jet black there


diving through the kelp forest

bottle-green, translucent, looking up to see the moonlight,

fractals of moonlight, and it is silent,


diving thirty, forty, sixty, a hundred meters below,

among the forest floor,

urchins, sea-stars, anemones, 

in slow motion,

goose barnacles in slow motion, but slowly, slowly

we come to the surface

taking in huge lungfuls of air, annie, pale, the lights flickering, 

flickering, flicker, flicker and fade to black,

but for the moonlight on her eyelashes,

on her thighs,

on the white sheets.







Poetry by one trick pony The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 655 times
Written on 2015-07-08 at 05:50

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Jamsbo Rockda The PoetBay support member heart!
Very beautiful. I love the imagery of the ocean floor and coming up for breath all in perfect metaphor. And "fractals of moonlight" is a wonderful term.

A beautifully descriptive poem. We like the suspense caused by the formatting of the first three lines. At the mention of 'lights flashing across her forehead' an alien encounter came to mind, but that might be because we've come from J.R.'s planet piece. This colour stands out against the darkness of the night and we love the sea references, the feeling of boarding a ship. Ms Bird is particularly taken with the sandpipers, of course. Our FT has no libido whatsoever (effect of ill health), but she appreciates the eroticism of the sea scene that is more vivid than expected – we anticipated waves and scents but not the detail of sea-stars and— 'goose barnacles!' coos Ms Bird :>o

We think Ashe, another excellent erotic poet, would like this too, but she appears to have left the bay. 'We do not know why and we are sad because Ashe has been very kind to us,' Ms Bird sighs; then FT comforts Ms Bird and both applaud together :>)

Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
This poem oozes San Francisco. It's almost a beat poem. I like it.

ken d williams The PoetBay support member heart!
Exulant , great use of words , you are danseing with words.Ken
Ken D