The Youth and the Sea: A Lament

[Lokasenna]

The gentle roar of the careless sea,
The waves that caress the lonesome stones,
The mischievous breeze that blows so free,
And the sun-lit rock that warms my bones.

I lie hard upon its hardness,
My heart thunders in my chest
and stops.

Its touch is more real than any other,
More passionate than a lover,
More caring than a mother,
And closer than a brother.

There is a rock that every wave submerges,
And pulls to the depths of its ancient urges,
Entombed, enwombed, it for a moment merges,
Before being torn out by liquid surges,
with Paradise.

I am not that rock: I can but live upon it,
Entirely severed from my sacred soul,
being locked in this form that can only sit
upon a silent shore, to dream of being whole.

No longer can I make love to the ocean,
Never again shall we in perfect oneness bind,
No more shall I pant beneath its potent motion,
Except in the faded temples of my mind.



I wrote this today, while sitting in the location described - it is, I think, one of the most intensely personal pieces I have ever written, so I'm a little nervous putting it up. Nonetheless, sharing is part of the experience, and constructive criticism is always much appreciated!

[Pensive]

I loved it!
A very interesting comparison.

Reminds me of this poem that I wrote quite some time back. Even though it might be quite different from what you are trying to say here, for some reason, your poem just makes me think of it.


Are not human relationships
Like that of coast and sea?

The thirsty coast needs sea-water
Like the deep sea wants to rest its head, its waves
A part of itself
On coast's shoulder
Both have emotions
Sea when angry sends quick waves
And rocks on the coast resist the water
The fight goes on
Until the waves slow down
The friendly waves then interact
With the coast calmly and lovingly
Caress its rocks, caress the green plants on it
Both can feel each other
But can't be one
Sometimes the whim of getting togethe, of being one
Strikes
Sea-storm comes
Coast doesn't resist it
It also wants to get lost in the sea
In vain
Because:
The barrier between them
Is strong
Is what makes them what they are
They have to be happy with the caress game
With the quarrels and the friendliness too
That's their life
Barrier has to be there
One can't get fully the other
Otherwise why would the sea be called sea
And coast, the coast?
Both need each other
But both need the barrier too

Are not human relationships
Like that of coast and sea?

[a_little_wisp]

I've been a little absent from the poetry section for a few days - and look what I missed! Why has this received so few comments?!

Darling, the temples of your mind are hardly faded, for one. This is a deeply seductive poem, but it fits so perfectly - the lady, the ocean, is a seductive creature, sensuous. Hardness, passionate touches, urges - this is. Well. Eh hem. This is good stuff. It's tangible, but at the same time, retains such depth with the sorrow that you stir within the poem:


I am not that rock: I can but live upon it,
Entirely severed from my sacred soul,
being locked in this form that can only sit
upon a silent shore, to dream of being whole.

Achingly beautiful, achingly sad. It flows magnificently, like the surging of waves, in the first few verses, which makes the fifth that much more ... solid. The rhyming only aids in these effects.

You have a real gift, Lokasenna. I can tell you wrote this in that frame of mind we reach when we're solitary, when we've gone to some of the deepest parts within ourselves and dared to put it on paper.

I will remember this forever, every time I'm on the beach (which is often), gazing out at the sea. Thanks for this.

[Lokasenna]

Thank you. Thank you so much, both of you!

[dafydd manton]

I can see that view in my mind's eye, even as I sit here so many miles from Wales. I shouldn't be surprised in the country has produced or inspired more poetry than any other comparable landmass.. Hiraeth is very very real. Thanks, Lok, for the journey back.

[hillwalker]

Definitely worth resurrecting. A beautiful spot to contemplate the sea and the backdrop of Snowdonia, and you have captured the hypnotic effect of such a view perfectly.

[PrinceMyshkin]

No reason whatsoever to be nervous about posting this wonderful poem. Among the many things I admire about it is the free way you moved from rhyming metric poetry to free verse, then back again.

And Pensive, I see why it would remind you of your own fine poem.

[Delta40]

I imagined a wonderful male creation of nature strewn across the rock as the ocean lashed across him. I don't know why but you poem ignited my imagination!

[Hawkman]

Well I for one really appreciated this poem as it inspired me to write The Changeling. It's a very good poem Lokasenna.

Best, H

[dafydd manton]

Isn't it odd that four of us on this thread are of Welsh heritage or descent! There must be a connecton somewhere...

[PrinceMyshkin]

Isn't it odd that four of us on this thread are of Welsh heritage or descent! There must be a connecton somewhere...

Not to mention that many others of us are quite fond of Welsh rarebit!

[dafydd manton]

Ah, a man of culture! There seems to be Celtic affinity with mountains and sea, though. As well as toasted cheese. See if you can get a proper Welsh cheddar, or Caerphilly, then try it!

[Lokasenna]

I think there's something about Wales that inspires people to just get up and make their own artistic entertainment... probably a lack of broadband, but you never know!

In all seriousness, it's a fascinating place that breeds fascination: no wonder it has produced so many great creative talents.

[hillwalker]

Why, thank you (ahem).