Crashing (Draft 1)

Crashing (Draft 1)

I am in such pain that
I don’t think I could be trusted,
might hurt you,
life hurts so much that I’d find it hard
to listen to the soupçon of truth
in the sea of your love with its
dangerous tides and crashing noises
on the beach with seaweed tangled
in nearly empty shells picked on
by seagulls who can’t normally
break them open but
are glad for the abnormal tide

I am in such pain
but I don’t want to howl into
the surf and crash
like an opera,
like an empty shell, and
already dead don’t want
to be picked on

— Douglas Gilbert

9 thoughts on “Crashing (Draft 1)

  1. What kind of pain are you in? Yeah, life hurts in general but there are ways to alleviate pains. The sea of my love only has dangerous tides because of all the pain i’ve had to go through in my life but if i were to find my someone with a cup of happiness, i don’t think the tides would be dangerous anymore, it’d be smooth sailing. Oh, i suppose i’m just walking the wrong beach, or looking for something that doesn’t even exist in a world such as this…

    1. Umm, I guess it has something to do with trust and double cross that was talked about in the previous post. Wondering about why people do that and why there’s evil in the world and why people become what they are etc., I think maybe… I don’t remember what I was doing when I wrote this. I suppose the theme is : people in pain do odd and crazy things when they have no love or promise of love…

    2. Make me King of the world and I think I could fix it — I just need a lot of helpers and resources. I’m not really good at doing it myself, hands on. You could be Queen…

      1. You made me blush a little…I think being queen would be fun. If anyone could fix it, I bet you would be the one for the job. Now, how do I go about making someone King of the world? That sounds like quite the accomplishment in itself to begin with…

    3. Oh, I suppose I’m just waiting on the wrong beach
      looking for something that doesn’t even exist, though

      I know you’re a beach comber, and
      maybe one day I’d share a shell with you.

      1. I’d share a shell with you anytime and tickle you with a feather too, I bet the seagulls would lend me one. I love this little poem…

    4. So anyway, you’re so naturally poetic. I see it a lot. Just a matter of a little editing of the heavy baggage and you could fly, you could rhyme, you could be free for destiny, and [sorry, I’ve run out of energy or something… I wanted to say something dramatic but I don’t know how to end this diatribe. Anyway, so I like your stuff….

      1. Well thank you, I like your stuff too. I think I am just shy with my words, you’re really the only person I let read them…

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