Calm and Smooth, she is blue steel.
Parting gently as our vessel bladed through,
Slight ripple here, a gentle breeze there,
her only reactions to the rhythmic strokes of the oars
Now the pace quickens, muscles are bunched.
yet still passive is she
amidst the merciless strikes of the oars.
And suddenly, in a gown of white lace
the boat shrouded with her fury.
And in this pure white we are found
struggling, unyeilding in our quest for glory
Her briney gown which mists the eyes
will not stop us.
The oars move faster now
smacking her skin in challenge
She offers a frothy reply
as the boat is consumed by her innocence
Oars are now carefully guided
by bewildered arms,
not knowing where to strike, or where to pull-
Her arms and chest beat about our oars, mercilly
And as we commence in this wild embrace,
we never kiss, though face to face.
There is no love, yet passions run high
for in this embrace, something must die.
Oars pound her back, as she pounds ours
yet still, still we clutch unto each other
in violent struggle searching….
searching for the calmness again
-nomisyar (circa 1996)