Santa Barbara, Calif., is one of my favorite places. It is a literal paradise. Every few months I try to escape there to get away and focus on my writing and life.
I wrote this poem a long time ago while sitting on the Santa Barbara pier, but as with all joyful and beautiful places in this world even life intrudes.
GP
***
A VIEW FROM THE SANTA BARBARA PIER
Shadows and sunlight
flicker on the ocean surface,
creating strange dark figures.
An impressionist painting of oceanic bodies and faces.
The scene hints of something mysterious and
inexplicable underneath the calm ocean surface.
A nature ancient and unchanging.
Nothing it seems could break into this
prehistoric silence,
this portal into a past world.
Not the fleet of fishing and merchant boats
floating and clinging to the ocean
like forlorn lovers
or
the seagulls and pigeons
armies of feathers,
scavengers,
searching for food.
A jet skier,
in all his water splashing glory,
finally breaks the spell,
creating waves
with each aggressive throttle burst.
His machine's engine
howls
at the past,
at the calm,
at the majestic beauty
of the ocean and mountains
and drowns out the
steady quiet
of waves embracing the beach
and lapping and brushing against my soul.
Life is a lot like that jet skier,
disturbing my illusionary calm,
splashing my dreams,
churning me into turmoil
and engulfing me in waves of regret.
George Pappas
Copyright 2008
2 comments:
George, you was right, love the Santa Barbara pics...your poem is so enchanting..I read it 4 times..
you are a very intelligent man and so passionate in your writting..I am glad that you are my friend...
can't wait to finish reading the rest of your blogs...
your friend Mari
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