Very Bad Poetry

Sometimes
the sea rolls in and
the rumble starts
in the back of your mind
and the only thing you can do is
run, run
down the sand
plunge yourself into the depths,
allow the roiling
waves to toss you about.

Sucked into the depths
unable to breathe
grinning against the tumult
of sand and salt, foam,
you break the surface and suck a breath
before another breaker rises
overhead
you swim out to meet it riding on your belly

at the crest of the mountain looking out over the small world
and you realise the wave
could carry you
forever
up and
up and
up
but you do not ask for such, and it gives anyway,
dropping you
feet-first
into the maelstrom below

spin-cycle
twisted and churned
battered against the floor tossed briefly from
your watery womb tomb
into the cold harsh
unforgiving ocean air

you gasp and dive
digging into the ocean
as if a mole desperate
to return home.

Fog coils around
you as you float in the sea and you feel close to
melting your form into water becoming the sea,
or a fish,
and you wish you knew
the fish's trick
breathing underwater
but you don't.

So you content yourself with being
tumbled and tossed,
rolled around in the palm of the Pacific
a soft fleshy worrystone
and you know for a fact
that this is life distilled
everything
comes down to
this
everything whirls around you
and you are
as far from the
center of the universe
as possible
because you are
immersed in the
roil and thunder
of All.

Jack Lurhstaap has published 2 more terrible poems since joining on 30/11/99. Read more of Jack's terrible poetry at the anthology. Here are three of Jack's latest works: