Monday, 3 October 2016

Jeffree Skewes #9 The Crossing

August 13, 2016


by afternoon the sea whistles
chilled air not at all gradually
escalating a gale
an ill wind cried
deluge coming

that night of woe crossing
without a friend
each rising wave
no up nor down
no lessening no mercy

entire fleets of buccaneers
playing war and fear
pilgrims nomads
a vanity of
foolish pride

engulfing tempest
a sea un-parted
sentenced by decree
to gulping water
no boat no teacher only nature

sirens prayers contrition
wailing desperation
but who could listen
there was no turning back
some would not return

in its eye and with a flash
lightening shone
on wars within
between death and sin
life begins

tears would stem
a standstill
ceasing hurling metal
for those who cradle
what life is really worth

briny flux licks
calcined bodies
stripped and raw
washed-up somehow
to shores unknown

wounded in deep sleep
it would take
till a sunrise
to stand again
and wonder why

so the story begins

Image: Tempest  detail -  synthetic polymer paint on canvas ply panel  jskewes

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