On the turning tide

[Keith]

On the turning tide

The boat yards full of crooks,
counting the seconds between,
lightning flash and thunder clap,
take my hand the storm has passed.
ragged beneath we missed the rocks
that split belief and alter course.

Morning gulls announce us,
washing up in warmer surf,
lying head back on tiny shells,
seaweed hair floats all around.
We wipe away, our innocence,
sea legs lost then found.



1st attempt
Misspelt names in a lawyer's book,
another couple to suckle, on the bloated belly
of claim and counter, pain and mistrust.
Our story should not be crushed
one to be told, booming in great halls
with dripping goblets and roaring fires,
boar's legs, pig's heads and laughter.
Not lost to papers, shuffled on table tops
picked at by who, has what, and not.

Scream, counting the seconds between,
lightning flash and thunder clap,
take my hand the storm will pass.
The rocks did not dash our craft
ragged beneath we missed the reef.
Washed clean in sea spray showers,
we wipe away, bitter milk from our lips.
slip away, from signatures and begin again,
as morning gulls caw in our new day.

[billy]

Hi Keith.
after the first few reads it feels as though you have two poems here.
(it reminds of the latest jackson episode that's in the news)
the first stanza feels to start off pretty blandly. the title works with the last stanza and the salty metaphors you have there. it fits in with the break/make up, but doesn't work too well with the Viking imagery.

Misspelt names in a lawyer's book,
another couple to suckle, on the bloated belly
of claim and counter, pain and mistrust.
Our story should not be crushed for me this is where the first stanza should start, the last lines imply what the 1st 3 lines say.
one to be told, booming in great halls
with dripping goblets and roaring fires,
boar's legs, pig's heads and laughter.
Not lost to papers, shuffled on table tops
picked at by who, has what, and not. i like the images in this stanza. their firm and old style. rough and ready.

Scream, counting the seconds between, the metaphors in this stanza feel at odds with the first stanza.
lightning flash and thunder clap,
take my hand the storm will pass.
The rocks did not dash our craft
ragged beneath we missed the reef.
Washed clean in sea spray showers,
we wipe away, bitter milk from our lips.
slip away, from signatures and begin again,
as morning gulls caw in our new day.

[Keith]

Hi Keith.
after the first few reads it feels as though you have two poems here.
(it reminds of the latest jackson episode that's in the news)
the first stanza feels to start off pretty blandly. the title works with the last stanza and the salty metaphors you have there. it fits in with the break/make up, but doesn't work too well with the Viking imagery.

Misspelt names in a lawyer's book,
another couple to suckle, on the bloated belly
of claim and counter, pain and mistrust.
Our story should not be crushed for me this is where the first stanza should start, the last lines imply what the 1st 3 lines say.
one to be told, booming in great halls
with dripping goblets and roaring fires,
boar's legs, pig's heads and laughter.
Not lost to papers, shuffled on table tops
picked at by who, has what, and not. i like the images in this stanza. their firm and old style. rough and ready.

Scream, counting the seconds between, the metaphors in this stanza feel at odds with the first stanza.
lightning flash and thunder clap,
take my hand the storm will pass.
The rocks did not dash our craft
ragged beneath we missed the reef.
Washed clean in sea spray showers,
we wipe away, bitter milk from our lips.
slip away, from signatures and begin again,
as morning gulls caw in our new day.

Thanks Billy, two for the price of one, problem is both need work now. Think I will split them and re-post one TOMH