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Canadian Surf Club
Feb 15, 2008


Palindromes can go to hell. Also my first poem in years so I kept the rhyme scheme simple.

The Fish on the Shore - 407 words

Just as the minnow swims wide-eyed and free,
But knows no meaning of the wide open sea,
So goes the sailor before each morning's glow,
To find his own meaning between each row,
And on the distant shore a family arrives,
To build monuments which live the shortest of lives.

The sailor casts his line and waits for a fish,
And the minnow encounters a savory dish,
The parents lay tanning under a distant flame,
That ancient candle burning long without name,
One scene among many; countless in time's span,
But only questioned by that which we call man.

The minnow is hooked but it does not understand,
Any more than the family who ponder the sand,
The sailor smiles and brings in his next meal,
And the sun jumps another notch on the wheel.
Flopping and choking the minnow waits to die,
Catching its first glimpse of a wide open sky.

A gust of wind casts waves on the shore,
And the children go diving with a scream and a roar,
The boat in its whistling path bobs to and fro,
And the minnow flops into depths below,
Free of the hook and gasping for water,
No more aware of how it avoided all slaughter.

The sailor grumbles and curses his lousy luck,
Thinking he was better at hunting quail and duck,
The children swim and play in the cool water,
And the parents call out to their son and their daughter,
As the sun burns low with an orange glow in the distance,
An hour's chime from the grandfather of existence.

As night sets in and eyelids close,
Hooked by exhaustion in its final throes,
The sailor and the family lie quiet to dream,
Submitting themselves to the void's regime,
And while water reminds us where we're from,
Sleeping lays bare what waits when we succumb.

And in their sleep the children dream,
Of a dying minnow who cannot scream,
And a sailor smiling at a hook of gore,
Under a cloudless sky far from shore,
They wake in sweat and mutter a prayer,
Free of the dream and gasping for air.

Name now one man,
Who understands fate yet ran,
More than the sailor fishing for gold,
Or the minnow evading since times of old.
Just as they are gifted meaning by the sea,
So to does the void gift meaning to thee.

Canadian Surf Club fucked around with this message at 05:10 on Jan 14, 2013