Mermaid Verse

music flows from lips and as words meet sound bound and found me, your eyes wide open, soul sprightly greeting thee….


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It hurts so good (8-2-14 to 8-3-14) – by Megan Seaman

Something golden below the surface

Something golden below the surface

It hurts so good.

You run the sharp nail over the raw and tender surface and it hurts so good. It is the feeling of nothing; a faint scream, or some noise six billion years away. But you hear it anyway. It is the trickle of water from some cracked pipe, in some wall, on some floor, in some building, in some city, in some country, on some continent, and it leaks and flows in the darkness. But you hear it anyway. It is the glimmer, shining, thirty-six thousand feet below the sea, where Spanish dancing cucumbers can’t even survive. But you see it anyway. It is the honeyed smell of spring, some one hundred and seventy-nine days after the first leaf falls on autumn’s ground. But you smell it anyway. It is the flavor of the pomegranate in the dark red depths of the wine that grew from the grapes nourished by the land, which flourished an orchard of Persephone’s fruits nine thousand years ago. But you taste it anyway. It is the aching feeling under three (thousand) layers of skin, wanting to be exposed and touched, wanting to be acknowledge for the sensation it brings. But you feel it anyway. And though it is tender and raw under the piercing metal,

It hurts so good.

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Terrible Mistake (9-24-2013) by Megan Seaman

Mermaids mused about the comforting coolness of their blue black refuge... only depths away

Mermaids mused about the comforting coolness of their blue black refuge… only depths away

“Was I your terrible mistake?

Five years gone blue then black

Attack of memories and

Flood of fury rocked and

Rolled me

To think that All I was

Was your terrible mistake.

 

Listening to The National

Sing about love given

Then lost, flagrantly

Left behind, lonely

And your apathetic

Words send me back

To that terrible mistake.

 

And no matter how much

My smart head refigures

Recalibrates the path

The viral data eventually infect

Each new datum

Downloaded from above

And imprint this terrible mistake.

 

Silent prayers to see

Your smile beam

Sunlight on me

Again, a risible wish

Spoken to apparitions

Who have no permissions

To mess with the plight of terrible mistakes.

 

Then the blue black darkness

Gets deeper, colder, faster,

Closes in quicker

And it half occurs that

The emptiness before me

Rests within me

As I persistently prescribe this terrible mistake.” – Megan Marie Seaman

 


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Letter: You’ve Been Showing Up In My Dreams (8-28-13) by Megan Seaman

“My Dearest,

Hi. so it’s weird for me to connect with you

like this. I don’t have any of your contact info anymore.

but i knew where I could find you

in the world wide web.

I don’t really use this social media (my page is way out of date),

but I’m glad, i guess that this is a way to connect.

 

you’ve been showing up in my dreams

for the past month or two.

It’s weird because i haven’t thought about you

or any of that silly stuff in a longtime.

As dreams go, I usually dismiss them as old memories

or symbols or something.

but i thought this time,

i would just take the most obvious interpretation.

 

I don’t know why you’re coming up,

but you are. one of the dreams had you and her in it.

She was in a long lacy wedding dress

– a parade surrounded her –

i only supposed that it was your wedding.

it was a weird dream to have

– that one happened about one month back.

 

Then a day ago or so,

I saw our friend

posted a pic of the girl in white

at what looked like

a shower of sorts.

I can imagine it was her wedding shower.

which means

that you’ll be married soon.

 

well, i don’t know what else to say.

I really want you to be happy.

and i want me to be happy.

i think i’m happy.

but there’s a weird feeling

i get in my dreams

when i see you.

 

whatever.

i feel stupid for reaching out.

I guess i’ll just say one more thing

and then please don’t respond.

just be happy.

because I loved you. I really did.

and a part of me still does.

it’s a weird thing,

and i don’t know why i fell so hard.

maybe it was a rebound from a failed marriage,

maybe it was insecurities and wanting to cling to something.

or maybe it was just plain old love.

whatever it was, it was real.

 

i care for you,

although i really hope i never see you again

(the universe has done a good job of making that so).

But, with that said,

i do wish you so much

happiness and love.

 

be well and happy,

and free,

my friend.

love

always,

me” – Megan Marie Seaman


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I Am the Poet (July 29, 2013) by Megan Seaman

I am the poet, not the songwriter

Weaving words in perfect pattern

Like soft threads, golden and red

I sew the suit you wear.

 

You are the songwriter, not the poet

Silvery sounds are your guide

Harnessing hums of traveling tunes

You amuse me with your magic moods.

 

I am the poet, not the songwriter

Picking precisely each phrase

Crazed with analytic eye

Speaking how it feels inside.

 

You are the songwriter, not the poet

Like a dance routine or dramatic scene

Disguised calculation of emotional relation

You play the poems that arise.

 

Enticing player with sweet-sounding whine

Tell me your lies and I’ll listen

Very closely to each piece of fiction

Oh, promise you’ll lie.

‘cause what’s the use of truth

in this production put forth

skilled rendition of unvarnished life.

 

But, I am the poet, not the songwriter

With a wish he will listen to my bit of diction

And feel the warm blood that

Melts the ice.

 

And, you are the songwriter, not the poet

Blind to the rhyme, yet heedful to the tone

The music that opens what hides

Behind those sleepy blue eyes.


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B. Tucker My Dreamy Companion (7-8-13) by Megan Seaman

Music Man 5-7-4

Music Man 5-7-4

“And he said, “you know what it’s like? It’s like riding in your dad’s old beater car

Through crowds of teenagers, loud

Because the exhaust system had a hole in it

And you just wished that the ride would be over

‘cause you’d been ridin’ too long

and here you are, through this sea of young things

you are also a young thing

but you wish you were 20 years older and knew

how it all turned out.”

 

Blue was the sky that day when he told me about his disease, caught

while drifting on water

Hotter than the white hot ash smashed into the tray

Burned it did when it hit my skin, heart burned

And busted from dis-ease he gave me

Mouth to mouth resuscitation. No it wasn’t a kiss

Just a wish for life. Please ease me back to light, life

And it finally set in what the goggled-eyed man meant when the sputtering car

Stuttered through the crowd

Pain in my heart, tears down my face, caused by you… my only you.” – Megan Marie Seaman

 

 


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Transgression (3-21-2012) by Megan Seaman

Jaded

Not creative

Phony

Can’t control me

Lost

Feel the frost

Cover

Sick lover

Caught

In thought

Missed

After fatal kiss

Stung

After seductive song

Wait

But it’s too late

Forever

So clever

Say

Cause dismay

Lie

Just a lullaby

Appease

But you tease

Love

Sent from above

Joke

Each word spoke

Myth

Meaningless wish

Done

Too much wrong

Slow

Let it go

Goodbye

Let it die.” – Megan Marie Seaman


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Posed (3-16-2012) by Megan Seaman

We saw those clouds

All purple and puffed

White porcelain stuffed

-jux-

-ta-

-posed-

against bright blue

early afternoon

and forgot.

 

Guided bodies by breath

Leading to their rest

We laid them down while

Legs crawled up walls

-super-

-im-

-posed-

on lavender heights

opening minds to what might

be forgotten.

 

But we were tired

Wired and wistful too long

Yearning for sweet sun,

what

-was-

-sup-

-posed-

to be our golden desire

so now retired

to our beds.

 

What we found

Was wonder in the chill of

North winds blowing above

As

-dreamy-

-eyes-

-dosed-

seeing the doves take flight

with freedom and light

witnessed and remembered.” – Megan Marie Seaman