At the end of the sea – where the white
curls stiffen,
far away from toast or jam –
are the sea creatures crowding, pinkly.
At the end of the sea, and the end of
the sky,
their humid lungs are heaving; the
wheeze
and spume of their vasty breath
makes a fume shot with scarlet
twinkling.
At the end of the sea, where the drawer
of the world
snicks shut, and the water quivers –
there the emotional sea creatures
crowd,
and the anxious anemone shivers.
See Niya Christine's story painting, Emotional Sea Creatures.
7 comments:
The last line is surprisingly moving to me.
I'm blown away Dale. Brilliant! I posted here about it... ...https://www.facebook.com/niyachristineart
Niya Christine
The kind of poem I rather like, very Lewis Carroll. Funny and odd, absurd logic that seems to mean something, and may, or may not. But I shiver along with an eerie delight.
You had me at "pinkly" : ) Thank you Dale
Like Zhoen's link with Carroll! And the poem, all "pinkly" and snicking!
Thanks dear friends!
Yes!
Or like Edward Lear, like the Jumblies or the Pobble that same colourful melancholy...
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