Painting by Kida Kinjoro
The ocean is full of chagrin
Messages in bottles, rivers of tears,
Shards and splinters, sharp-faceted sorrows,
Gathered by kindly currents,
Washed by the waves smooth as silk,
Opaque as sea mists,
And left by the tide in gem-stone rock pools
For us to find and cradle in gentle hands.
So much bitter-sweetness in a piece of glass,
Such treasure distilled from faded grief.
I woke up today with a crashing migraine. Dosed up on drugs and went back to bed. When I got up this afternoon the rain was lashing down. I felt inspired.
Among the poplars
Among the poplars by the river
I sit and watch the tumbling water
Autumn swollen, brown and troubled.
I listen to the hiss of rain among the trembling leaves
And the leaden plop as sullen drops pit the water’s skin.
Memories brim over, pouring thick as bitter rain
And the steely sky a cracked mirror mocks.
Should every drop from every rain-filled cloud,
Every leaden drop, leaf-dripped and river-borne
Carry, tear-salty, a grain of pain
The ocean would groan and toss and beat upon the cliffs
The waves break in anger, splashing screaming gulls
But my heart would be no lighter, where I sit and think of you
Among the poplars, in the rain.