Poem: The scars of the waves
Hello friends. The sea has always been a source of inspiration for poets, whether near or far. It always makes an impact on us because of its grandeur, its richness, and also because of its untamed power and the terror and respect it inspires in many. Nevertheless, it has always been a realm of inspiration. I hope you enjoy this poem and I look forward to hearing your thoughts so we can continue to grow.
I enjoy the passing ships near the dock.
It is not my idea to ignore their existence,
a floating body I don't recognize.
A ship in the presence of my body,
a ship facing the sea.
A cabin boy exploring the opportunity of the waters.
Each order of the world.
Harmony in another order, another logic of perfection.
A logic that widens at the edges
like the masterful hip of a woman.
II
Ship, a group of planks on the dock.
I enjoy the way it polishes its violence.
An intangible memory of the felled tree
with the mastery of amputating a leg.
The strength that subdues men.
That which makes them leave like a stranger.
III
The planks are the skin of the abdomen.
The ship that forms in the structure of the bones.
The keel
is the spine.
The ribs hug the ribs and close the bow.
The ribs toward the belly of that beautiful woman who is built
like a blessing to defense.
IV
I enjoy the dock.
There is no other way to explain the cleanliness,
the smooth, cemented walls of the ships.
V
Over the sea, within the sea,
the ships cling to their skin,
opening the scars of the waves.
The open veins where the current crosses,
the force that God did not want to teach,
the force described in a woman's sex,
marine trench, volcanic crater, simple swell,
penetrable and impenetrable eye of a storm.
A ship that is not a woman, but a ship,
a body, half-body, half-ship.
A cemented wall, smooth and polished.
A wall in another spiral where the ships are consumed.
The text is AI-free, Google translated and proofread by me.
The thank you for the visit and the goodbye message were created in Canva
The photos are my property