A Perfect Storm (3)


A Perfect Storm

Riding it out

Tossed to and fro’

Long night ahead

Sounds of creaking and splintering

Cacophonous groans

Reverberations of destruction assail

Joints grinding

Teeth gnashing

Like walks upon gravel

It’s in the bones now

Tendrils towards marrow

Pervasive, invasive, foisted

All the struggle

The resistance

The holding fast


Against overwhelming assaults

From the head

To the heart

To the soles

Pressed firmly upon a rock

What’s left to do?

Let go?

Do nothing?


Flotsam and jetsam

Will tell the tale from this point on

Witness and narrator

Yield to a new dawn

Come holy spirit

Kingdom come

Come one

Come all

Come some


In the quelling of the beast

Calm now, without, within

Bliss…come full circle

Gentle undulations serene

Rise and fall as breaths

Of a sleeping giant


Sunlight’s speckled starburst

shimmer across the scene

Diamonds here and gone

in temporal gleans


Flotsam and jetsam

Will show the evidence that remains


Drowned at see?





flat world 

Abstract delineations, outlining boundaries of imagination. Closing in on realization, thoughts in clouds, changing shapes, in visual skyscapes. From the heart, falling on deaf ears, no one hears, the creaking of the rudder, under the strain as the helmsman veers. Towards the horizon, but the world is flat, the salt has lost it’s taste. Sea monsters abound, to the edge, compass broken, set a course, all hands… lost at see.

Leviathan II


A fierce battle rages

fish on!

the hook is set

taking line

spitting spray

from a screaming spool

of fishing line


he’s runnin’

he’s soundin’

he’s winning

almost to the end of my rope

can i pull him back in time?


i think he’s tiring

the line suddenly slack

tired of fighting

tired of running

there’s now a crack

in my fighting chair


is he playing possum?


a sudden surge

the rod bends

the spool sings

signaling the fight is on again

bending almost to the point

of breaking


“a trial was set before you…

one such as is common to man”


you begin to understand

magnificent creature

full of passion and fire

heading in the wrong direction


sustenance readily provided

why are fish so easily distracted

so concerned with the artificial




that they don’t see the hook

until it’s too late?

so hard to turn


with a final surge

i call on Your strength

can You take some of the

Mercy and Grace

gifted to me

and give it to him?


i grip the rope firmly

and pull as hard as i can

the chair breaks!

i land flat on my back


eyes grow dim…

another blow to the head

just like the one i suffered

from a robber’s attempt

to kill me


years ago

on my knees

staring at blood-stained snow

and i was not the least bit angry

not with you


not then

not now


feels the same…


a hallucination?

a dream?

a vision?

the violent blow did something to me i can’t explain.

i see differently…

have for some time,

wasn’t aware of it.


a luminescent eel-like fish with wings?

got away

soars overhead…



meanders twisting towards the sun


wafting on solar winds

trailing remnants of a broken net

irridescent, undulating, refracted light

streaming ribbonlike

in and out

of reality


bursts into flames

airborne absurdity

outlined momentarily

suspended in ashen effigy

before dissipating

spreading it’s wings

in one final effort


cinders descend

upon the sea

this one didn’t get away

and souls were saved

Christ’s Hope


over Satan’s lines


the last thing i view…before everything goes…



back…back to the deep,

in this restless thing,

this unconsciousness,

described in a relevant term,

referred to as sleep.


in r.e.m.

the eyes ever vigil,

always searching,

sleep apnea,

sleep paralysis,

in nocturnal journeys,

struggling to breathe,

living through little deaths.


My heart belongs to you,

My Heart,

“leaps inside me for you”,

but this battle’s frontline,

is being fought,

in guerilla warfare,

by devious terrorist tacticians,

in strongholds of the mind

on course


2 thoughts on “A Perfect Storm (3)

  1. Brilliant description of post-storm sea surface. Like the rhythmic moving of the chest of a sleeping giant. Could that giant be our own imaginative fears? Needing the calming Word of Jesus, “Peace be still.”

  2. You always “get it”, you’re no fun anymore:)

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