a selection from far too much rambling at stanley park

her beauty remains but it seems the west has tried to tame her, cage her
I wish for rocky shores attacked by waves never halting
instead I am greeted by kind laps, so friendly yet placid
I wish for the seas of Italy
at that time, I could remember mornings woken with passion,
I could recall the smiles just yesterday
but now, I see I seemed at a crossroads,
or one just past,
and no longer could I feel like yesterday,
a path had been chosen, wearing a veneer of independence,
still reliant on the moon
metaphors of car batteries and dried up leaves fall through my mind,
validating, twisting, searching for course
I see myself as dead, or dry, or apt to be torn and tossed by the sky
with the sea my only refuge
the metaphors cannot soothe me,
I cannot spend night and day seaside
though what I would give
all but my words I would give
my sight, I don’t need to feel the sea
my love, I don’t need to feel her passion
my comfort, I don’t need to sleep at night