I don't want your double clicks
your bikini chicks
and top ten picks
buy now best be quicks, sham politics
I don't want your grandiose scheme,
your empty dreams, swim with your stream
you make me want to scream
I don't want your pretty loans
leave me the hell alone
with your heart of stone,
making us sore to the sorry bone
I'll choose blue deep ocean
my own emotion, nature devotion
poetry with this motion
grey sky above
all the fucking love.
I think this is the first rhyming poem I've written in my life. It galloped into my head as I was surfing this afternoon. Cold air, warm sun. Perfectly still, perfect little waves rolling in, liquid sun on the velvet surface of the water. Toasty in my new wetsuit - a little too hot for this particular afternoon, so I had to keep diving off my board into the water. Sometimes surfing is better than sex. My skin prickles with loveliness, comes alive. I bow down to the ocean gods, wet my lips with the holy water blessed by them, feel cool water on my most private parts and tingle with the joy of it all. Like I'm one with it. And all the rest - there is no 'all the rest'.
Only water, sun, cliffs, sand, waves.
That's it.
Like being in love with the world. Being in love with the world. The world. Being. Love. I am. That.