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Map of Austin Poetry #303-1
Featured Poetry Supplement
Theme: Deep Blue Sea

Upcoming themes:

#303-2 - Jacks or Better
#303-3 - My Favorite Martian
#303-4 - Daisy Daisy

Send poems to stazja_at_aol.com in body of e mail, left justified. No
fancy fonts or colors, please. No attachments. On subject line, note
the issue number and theme. Include permission to publish and
attestation of authorship. Poets retain all rights.

This week's selections include:

1.  Deep is the Sea by Ingeborg Carsten-Miller
2.  Landlocked by Mike Gullickson
3.  The Light Within by Dillon McKinsey
4.  Homesick by Jean Russell
5.  Burial at Sea by Arthur Seeley
6.  The Sea by Jerry Silverberg
7.  Scrimshaw by Maryann Hazen Stearns
8.  Blue from space  by Thom the World Poet

1.  Deep is the Sea by Ingeborg Carsten-Miller

Deep
is
the sea
the
blue deep
sea
like the indigo
of
your night reflecting
eyes.

© 2004 Ingeborg Carsten-Miller
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
2.  Landlocked by Mike Gullickson

The seawall is cracked and pitted
the stairs hidden beneath the sand
even the graffiti has washed away
sometimes you can see a word
surface on a wave
or a picture try to come to life.

If I squint I can see
a blue Frisbee skimming the air
back and forth
back and forth
and a black and white dog
jumping towards the disc
and I can smell the scent of a grill
being lit.
but no one comes here anymore
the crowds grew old and died
nature is taking over
she always survives
she always adapts
wit, or in spite of us.

We had a language once
the possibility of a future
I thought I knew all the words
that applied to my life
but the updated dictionary of Now
I never opened.
The memories we will never have haunt me
like a scent I cannot place
like a song on an endless loop
like time dragging its nails into my skin.
I bleed . It doesn't matter.

You can watch the sunset from the ruined seawall.
You can watch a pod of dolphins
rise and sink, rise and sink.
You can watch words in the foam surface
try to form
into something we both can understand.

I come here every morning hoping the rising sun
or the setting moon
will help me decipher the sea.

© 2004 Mike Gullickson
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
3.  The Light Within by Dillon McKinsey

I stood one day beside the sea
And watched her waves role in.
I saw them swell and rise and curl,
And the collapse within.
Again! Again! They'd come and break,
And drift up on the shore;
And when quite spent, their place retake
Amid the constant roar.
And I could not help but wonder then
What keeps them rolling in,
Until I noted on the break,
The light they held with.
You see it just as they have raised
The brine where it will go-
You see it for a moment fine,
And then the undertow.
And yet, that moment of their height-
When light is held within-
Must be the reason, when they fall,
They rise to try again.
The light brigade of another realm,
They reach as they are told,
And question not the tidal helm,
For duty makes them bold.
And too, they know-I'm sure they must-
That someone's made them more,
And so they rise and fall and hold,
Their lights just off the shore.

© 2004 Dillon McKinsey
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
4.  Homesick by Jean Russell

I stand alone at the window
rearranging the seashells.
They are content here now,
these four fragile ladies
in my windowsill.

They like to be touched.
It reminds them of their father, the Sand,
who shaped them as they grew.

They like me to sing to them.
It reminds them of the echoes
of their sisters in the sea.

And if my tear falls upon them,
they drink it with a sigh.
It reminds them of their mother,
the Angry Wave,
who abandoned them
to the awful secret of the shore.

© 2004 Jean Russell
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
5.  Burial at Sea by Arthur Seeley

Withered by scurvy, east of  Cyprus, I died
one night as the moon rose like a quinquereme
breasting the world's rim. Night birds cried
in the singing trees and the south wind sighed
rich with the spice-thick perfumes of a dream.

They shot me from a polished plank to slide
into the long slow bulges of the deep
down through the rippling glooms to glide,
down where the weeded shadows ride,
snug as an oyster in my canvas sleeve, to sleep.

A century, a century, a century have gone.
I hung, nudged by long shapes and ragged maws,
till I and the guzzling sulk-mouthed fish were one,
till I and the marlin, crab and rotted gull, in confusion,
broke in boiling rollers along other shores.

Now, the sea and I are each part of each.
I stream along the dolphin's muscled flank,
slop on the wracked and cockled beach;
listen to the sea mews bicker in a brackish reach;
see the clipper heel beyond the bell-buoyed bank.

I am the whales' path and their fluted song.
I am the gleam of oil-slicked waters in a Northern dock.
I am the stinging salt-lash in the gale-flung
slap of sloggered brine and the tide-long
spuming over broken rock.

© 2004 A W Seeley
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
6.  The Sea by Jerry Silverberg

Amid turbulence of a churning sea
life takes hold like a tidal wave within me
time is the seashell arrested by love's shore line
of community fish that float to amber sunshine
over high crests some blow water as steam
through holes of delight on oceans extreme
until fishermen dive with eyes on a catch
no fish worth its salt dare measure a match
below where heaven creates hope in my sea
there, time sets sail not for the timid to be
amid rush & perspiration soaking tears and flesh
an old, shiny, hook sinks like a buoy torn fresh
of pride that snatches ride on a bold fish tale
netted by cold fishermen that tip natures scale
of bubbles that breathe to struggle their way
beyond another big one that wiggles away
amid turbulence of a churning sea
weather like a bad promise threatens victory
over a, seaweed, green ocean deep as blue sky
light eyes with new baggage scan one final try
amid turbulence of a churning sea
to cast mystery conditions that ebb people like me
aged by time who dare rock any size boat
first prize a bright smile with a fisherman gloat
amid turbulence of a churning sea
life is the current that pulls poetry from me.

© 2004 Jerry Silverberg
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
7.  Scrimshaw by Maryann Hazen Stearns

The motion between my ears
reminds me of desire; the journey
I've taken to be with you. There

is no relief beneath shield
of sun nor star. The spray
of salt below my bed
burns into the bones of my soul:

         Sarah Jean -
    This is all there is
   between us.

©  2004 Maryann Hazen Stearns
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
8.  Blue from space  by Thom the World Poet

this planet water
within us
attracts life
to rise
to surface
Netted,speared,sliced
canned,packaged,sold
eaten,disposed of
changes back into nutrients
discharged into deep blue sea

© 2004 Thom The World Poet
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Grateful thanks to all who contributed.

Welcome new readers.

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The MAP and featured poetry supplements are posted online at:

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groups.yahoo.com/group/mapofaustinpoetry

Much love,
Stazja







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