A dolphin explodes from the water
because she is the daughter
of the foam that is flipped from her grey tail
flying skywards and seawards,
spraying dents into the surface of the sea.
she plunges back under the covers
of the ocean to meet the others,
dolphins which, not caught in tuna nets, are free.
Posts Tagged ‘Daughter’
Dolphin Daughter
Posted: June 20, 1993 in PoetryTags: Daughter, Dolphin, Fly, Grey, Ocean, Sea, Water
$6.95
Posted: April 13, 1993 in PoetryTags: Charles Bukowski, Daughter, Dragon, Eye, Lizard, Mind, Vodka, Wood
In the back of my mind, you see,
I filed away that Gordon’s Vodka
was on sale – when the excuse came,
I bought it in a glorious name:
I signed my check Charles Bukowski.
the waves keep on singing
thrashing my shores with scourges of driftwood:
I pour the alcohol in nonstop
from a weatherbeaten clifftop.
a lizard glitters under a broad ivy leaf,
sapphires for eyes and mottled scales,
daughter of the dragons we murdered in Wales
with rationality as comfortable as grinding my teeth.
the waves sing because they are free
blissfully ignorant of the landlocked me.
cold turquoise ring:
you break, my friend.
our journeys together
have just begun,
but I realize that you are old.
grandfather to father
to daughter to friend
and thence to see
more of the world
with your blue blue eye.