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Indigo Vales

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Tag Archives: waves

Forced To Breathe

27 Saturday Jul 2019

Posted by Kristine in Uncategorized

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Tags

breathe, dolphin, human, sorting, Universe, waves, write soon

Something about the placement of the sun and moon and perhaps Mercury in retrograde had something to do with why I ran out of the house and down to the shore. I couldn’t put two thoughts together. I couldn’t decide whether to sit or stand or eat or drink or write or wash a dish or leave or stay. Just before the tipping point I put on sunglasses, left my phone on the table, and got the hell out of there. I really don’t know what it was that moved me to go in that second, was it the universe pushing me, it must have been because the dolphins were present in the bay.

I stumbled out through the dune path and bee-lined for “my” spot but a summer sunbather was there. I veered east (still not far enough away from her music playing) and dropped into the warm sand like Simba on the grassy hillside the night he needed to sort things out.

The dolphin pod was not passing through our little spit of the Chesapeake this time. They were hunting playing for croaker and mullet. Normally when I see dolphin their backs and dorsals seem black, probably because of distance, a trick of the light, presbyopia, or all of the above. Today, though, they were clearly sparkling gray and white. No sweet faces seen, just bodies and flukes. Some were in groups of three, one larger-bodied and two smaller-bodied beings huddled close and loping gently along. As for the hunting playing party, it was a foamy free-for-all.

In the space of a few moments four colorful jet-skis passed right through the dolphin patch, a small Coast Guard boat came flying out of the channel, and in the not too far distance a submarine was under way, all while the sunbather had her back turned from the water and her buddies were splashing around. I felt as though I was looking at a painting where someone said, “paint everything you will ever see ocean side.” It felt crammed and unpleasant, no rhythm or ease. I forced myself to wait out the desire to leave, so I watched the boats and dolphins and jet-skis disappear. I listened to the waves curl and release and it became easier to breathe. Whatever I wished for, hoped, or wanted became irrelevant as I let the simple hissing water mesmerise.

Hands in hot water washing a dish, I mused that dolphins don’t have to decide to write or sleep or interact. I cannot live unhemispherically because I would miss my dreams where mermaids tell me you exist. I like purple ink on my fingers after I write, and reading dog-eared pages filled with moody, conquering kings.

Upon Seeing The Word “Waves”

12 Tuesday Feb 2019

Posted by Kristine in Uncategorized

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Tags

impossible, Mermaids, ocean, poem, Polaris, power, waves

Sentient explorers
rogue shoulders
wild breathing
last gasp upon the shore, hammerhand, quartz-carver
cloak of invisibility
keeper of secrets
Mistress
impossible blues
Polaris gleams upon her black spine, hope for men aloft on Poseidon’s foaming mares
and dreams for little girls wanting to be mermaids.

September 29 morning

29 Friday Sep 2017

Posted by Kristine in Uncategorized

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Tags

morning, ocean, waves, writing

Well, it happened again.  I stumbled into the kitchen to slurp down lukewarm water from a coffee mug on my sink, eyes half-glued shut. I pulled on whatever clothes I could find and headed down to the beach, sunglasses and a flannel shirt in place because the sun is bright and the breeze is stiff.  Interesting that the breeze is not chilling, it’s “warm” according to some.  It’s the same beach where I got pounded by three guys who don’t see anything the way I do last night, and yet we all agreed the giant, orange sun taking refuge behind that house at the end of the spit was really fucking cool.

This morning I stood on the empty beach watching the USNS Comfort, a Navy hospital ship, heading down to Puerto Rico, post Maria, escorted by a destroyer whose name I do not know.  This morning I had cauldrons full of bullshit still boiling over from yesterday, or hell, last year. I had empty pots clanging from my belt loops making empty noise, but that one particular seagull really didn’t mind. He was busy scoping me out for danger or for food.

This morning I inspected the character of the beach, her new hill, post-Maria. I lament that I do not see many of my neighbors anymore, because. That’s all anyone needs to say is “because.” You don’t need to know why he stays home or she stays home now.

And it happened again, as I walked barefoot with brimming cauldron and empty pots clanging. I stopped moving. I became still and dumb and silent in body and mind because the waves mesmerize me.  Everything drops off,  the scales from my eyes, last night’s venting in person and to the silent four walls where I rehearse my protest speeches. It all drops off and blows away and I can’t do anything but stand there and listen and stare at the waves coming in and breathe the scent of clean ocean. Okay, and side-eye the gull because I know what he wants and I think he knows we’re at an impasse. Energy comes from somewhere out there and pushes the water in and it lifts up, foamy white heads that maintain, maintain, up, ope, starting to break down, down, break, a gentle crash and a retraction. Begin again. Again. I lose time because I get lost, and I cannot begin to speak my gratitude for it.

I like being held captive and silent by the waves, and all the things she does to me.

Amen.

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