The Ocean

Tis only the surface breathing

giving life to the drowning.

Light absorbing, lending,

illuminating colour to those that 

caress the ocean floor.


Occasionally lashing out

whipping its face

to a foaming fury,

raging against the futility

of standing against 

the deep poisoning of 

synthetic excrement:


Micro, macro, fishing lines

and the essence of life-carbon

now knitted to kill





entangling, embracing, killing

while the oily acquiescent surface

shifts endlessly on its 


styling new shores,

stealing earth,

pushing humanity

to change. 

Published by


margins are a great place sometimes because it is where change happens fastest but it is also a horrible place when we are stuck in them and grace is the moment when we can see that someone cares.

Leave a Reply

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.