Tuesday, 14 December 2010

Run Aground

Tuesday 14th December 2010, A. Palmer

The blood rushed the walls of crevices and crooks
in the kitchen tiles,
nestling in the grains like crimson rock pools.

Draining from your face at a rapid rate, your looks-
usually all flushes and smiles-
began to resemble more those of a man the ocean rules:

silent still, with lips cracking like a row of tiny skulls
and blue. Oh so blue,
I chilled upon seeing the shade life leaves behind.

Your hands gripped the night in helplessness, and your moored hull
caused a fear that grew
among those frozen nearby like the lake that lined

your shell- just how long would you be driftwood for?
Suddenly, sound pierced again,
and waves of screaming oared me into smoother thinking.

Throwing your tongue overboard washed your lungs ashore
and allowed sense to be regained,
though you shall never quite know how close you came to sinking.


  1. another beautiful piece - esp. liked ..Your hands gripped the night in helplessness...and ..though you shall never quite know how close you came to sinking...but i really dig the whole poem, written in such a tender, comforting and understanding way - yep - it's really good

  2. dynamic, vivid, and powerful flow.
    beautiful capture of sentiments...


    I wonder if you are interested in poets rally,
    Link in a random poem, visit and comment…
    Poets return favors and follow the rules, thus, hope that you won’t miss your opportunity to make new poetry friends…

    Happy Friday!
    Stay Blessed!