Tsunami

The ocean rose
As an abusive father's hand -
Rushing to the innocent -
Hand tearing out throat
Silencing any plea
A pounding into limp fish

There was no safety in the harbor
There was no safety in the harbor
The fishermen are weeping
Through the debris of death

XIV

Here I'm in the celebration of life;
counting out syllables for this sonnet,
thinking this is turning like a sharp knife
at the bone, I hack to feast upon it.
As I open yet another quatrain,
peeling back the meat of my memories,
definitely going against the grain
yet sensing a oneness as salt in seas.
It's here that I happen to realize
the beauty of a cut, deep in the mind,
when articulated as with new eyes,
will foster growth letting new life to pine.
I wonder in words where it all will lead
and to think, never did I even bleed.

Poem

I set out to write this poem
As word upon word
Like playing with my child's LEGO blocks
Bonding as a double-helix
Into the fabric of skin on fingertips
Winding into the stream of blood
Carried through the heart
Into the mind
Out of the eyes come the words
I set out to write this poem