“Epiphany” by Ariana Trinneer

It is a bright Easter day
washed with the kind of light
that pierces,
bouncing off the sand
and around the edges
of my sunglasses so that I squint.
It isn’t the easiest thing,
to focus one’s eyes
intent upon the horizon.
But miracles
must be searched out these days
and blinking is just plain irresponsible.
We hover near the water’s edge
speaking in hushed
excited bursts, disciples
huddled against the wind, waiting
for our breath
to be taken away.
One boy
is paying no attention.
He spins in the golden white
of the day, squealing as the water
pinches his toes with cold,
leaping to catch a feather
which floats
prayer soft beyond
us. I have never told
him that patience
is a virtue
and he is not one to wait.
He turns, pulled by my gaze,
and rockets to my side
where he pants in silence,
finding our point of worship
upon the water
as the whale crests,

dark and mysterious.
The crowd gasps and I feel
his body curve
into the light, release.
He tugs upon my hand
with five year old zeal,

“When I die mama
I want to become part of the ocean,
because then I can be waves.”

Ariana Trinneer

Photo by VC Ferry

© 2011

“La Isla Solamente” by Yvonne de la Vega

It is a quiet clapping
no waves

the beach is perfect
the way she combed it

her writing stick
aimed
ready
to commando
words

across the sand

every ripple on the water
she has named

every shell silver dollar
every palm frond fallen

she can even time the breezes
if she wants to.

there are only 11 seagulls
she has their potato chips
there is plenty enough
for every beak
there are no
humiliating
squabbles
to have to
listen to.

clouds with colors
a sistine ceiling
all is as always in

perfect
lovely
order

designed
by the rhythmic quiet
lapping along her private beach
where she controls all
audio

but suddenly now
there
some full sail clipper
attempting anchor just
yonder

and she clicks
her tongue
with stink eye
and the yen

where are the
words in the sand
today?

she stands with her stick
and in vain tries to recall
the poignant message
she had dreamt and
rose to scrawl
for this day

it was brilliant!
it was good now
what was it?

her winged familiar
flies above humming
at it’s side
a giant dragonfly
a discerning eye
and love looks
like illusion

and if only
the distant rumbling
were tsunami
to save her

if only the reef would
rise like great barrier
sharks circling ’round
methane bubbles
fire corral
mines
portuguese
man o’ war

she wants everything
but remembers this and wants
not that hunger
not that intrusion
nor that dragonfly
with it’s bright peacock
wings and wisdom
nothing more than that

which is nothing
which is everything
a fly nonetheless
beautiful or no.

disgruntled
she holds a rusted key ready
to toss it into the newly agitated surf
the lock now missing
just gone
just gone

in love sadness
takes inventory
of everything that
might be moved or
must be buried
pre reminiscing

of when her island

was pristine and
void of any

brightly
winged
illusion
when writing in
the sand once
came so easily

-yvonne de la vega

© 2011

“Secret Beaches” by David Romero

 

 

Secret beaches
Tend not to live up to their name
But they often mean a lot
To those who name them
Secret
Today we walk your secret beach together
The meaning is not lost on me
Today we walk
Like mad and innocent children
You make me feel ancient
We have a history
Years ago I took you to a secret beach
Where we shared our first kiss
Under a shining sun
The crashing of waves as our soundtrack
You’ve brought me here
So that I could hear it playing again
Irresistible, I pull you towards me again
Once more
Like the surf falling from the seashore
This all seems inevitable
Your body still fitting into mine
Comfortable in my arms
Our lips and our tongues finally part ways
I look into your face
No longer seeing the woman you have become
The girl you once were
The girl I once found
The sweet princess
With a heart surrounded by barbed wire
A castle surrounded by landmines
You placed them there yourself
Part defense mechanism
Part masochism
Cynicism and sarcasm
I loved it all
I love to see you smile
You are mine again
Like you never left
The secret beach is playing our soundtrack
It keeps on skipping on this track
With sounds jarring
Tears
Father
Pity

Tears
Father
Pity
“Son, I never want to see you like this again.”
Again and again
In the past
My friends come up a hill
Something in their slow approach highly suggestive
Heavy with bad news
Unfaithful
Unfaithful
I know
You stand upon this beach
Asking for forgiveness
When you don’t have anything nice to say
You shouldn’t say anything at all
So, I am silent
Fuck you
Your smile, is beautiful
Vulnerable and open
My smile is there too
Closed
Impatient
Full of hate
We have a history
You are comfortable in my arms
A girl I once found
A woman who would be mine
Part sadism
Part masochism
Cynicism and sarcasm
I once loved it all
As I love the beach
I will never love you again
Will never believe in secret beaches again
You are not a girl any longer
You are a woman
I am a man
Secrets are not kept
Others will walk this beach

David Romero

Photo by VC Ferry

© 2011

“Poem For Alexis” by Judi Kaufman

Judi Kaufman

Photo by L. K. Thayer

Dear Dear Alexis, “I am going back into you and your wonder words served in extra wide world of Martini glasses, at The Juice Bar.”

Found a glass with a navy blue tear
Must been made of that thick ocean near your home at the beach
Six waves wide this glass I found
Wasn’t for sale
Just for staring and mediation
Life of a young man
A mediating man
And his mom

Making a life for all her
Olives

There is courageous RED in all of them

I LOVE THE RED IN YOU.

jfk

JUDI KAUFMAN

All Rights Reserved

© 2009