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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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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Intention #33 (April 24, 2013) by Megan Seaman

"laughing at the pain left in the watercolors..."

“laughing at the pain left in the watercolors…”

“Maybe if I think you hard enough

You’ll be mine.

I’ll wish you – want you – wistfully whim you

Into reality, serendipity, destiny

And see your bright blue eyes

Gazing at me with a twinkle

And a grin – Yes, a smile

Walking through doorsill

Stealing my will to deny you any longer.

And against my tenacity for sorrowful sourness

You’ll woo my heart to the warmth of your

Tender softness.

Your pure essence – a creative soul of deftness

At burning late day clouds away

With your hot-hot sun

We’ll have fun, Will,

While the kids laugh and play

By seaside, salty and soaked to the bone

We’ll look back in time and realize the signs

Were all pointing to sandy steps.

Laughing at the pain left in the watercolors of

Some murky wet paper, some class, some teacher

Long longtime ago,

We’ll know that tears wept then

Created the sea before us

And the cries were echoes of seagulls

With wanderlust

For coastlines like the one

We stand upon today in

Lingering light of July rays.

And we’ll breathe the sea air and hear

The giggles of children with no care

For sad stories of yesterday.” – Megan Marie Seaman

 


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Patience, please (sometime in March-ish) by Megan Seaman

Written…Maybe like Thursday or Friday, March 14th or 15th, in the middle of the night

“Sneaking suspicion you’d come

By in that way

Late in the day

And whisper a springtime tune

But Mark says snow will

Come, again

And summer will arrive in

Late June.

 

Whispers wheeze through the trees

I always liked that rustling sound

Cool skin of leaves green

Cast their shadow

On the ground

In the long

Light still reaching

For the day

As it fades away

In the din of

Lonely town.

 

Sit, sit, sit, Sit down now

Wait, wait, wait, Wait

For the monarchs

Believe they will

Fly and flutter

In the butterfly

Bush covered

With its purple

Cones, in droves

They will come

If only you

Believe.

 

And I read about the ones

Who counted

Not just counted on them

To show themselves

But counted their

Every presence

But what about the Monarchs

That were seen dancing on

the sea?

Or did they even know

That some had broken from the band

And resigned themselves

To following Atlantis

And the mermaid

Songs.” – Megan Marie Seaman

And this was his tune… https://vimeo.com/57762315


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The Butterfly and the Sea (March 4, 2013) by Megan Seaman

tattooed tales of future wishes willed by you.

tattooed tales of future wishes willed by you.

“Don’t get sour, I say

When she flutters away

Your forehead shows lines of contempt.

 

The Butterfly, beautiful with her

Iridescent twirl

Blue and green way she tempts.

 

Your mind is frazzled

But your heart is dazzled

By the flitting fleeting boom.

 

Of wings as they flap

And legs as they tap

On petals loosened by wind’s tune.

 

The Butterfly flew

Over earth that was new

To the shores of Atlantic Sea.

 

Wooed by warm days

In lovely late May

She was searching ardently looking for he.

 

And I saw her dance

Taking the chance

Over silvery salty waves.

 

But he swallowed her in

With his cool saline grin

Dost not comprehend how the heart behaves.” – Megan Marie Seaman

 


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Flesh (7-3-12) by Megan Seaman

then the sun came

Buried under fleshy layers

Thick with fatty lies

The light burned bright

And blazed building flames

That scorched and sizzled the lipids

Of doubt and fear

You met me here

In the sweltering muck

With your cool smile, washed

The ash away

Sea blue eyes released storm

On these shores

Thunder and light

Wind and rain

Washed over us again

And we were clean

In the calming dawn

Yummy yellow sun

Rise with sweet pink clouds

We rested our heads

And realized the fire

Held strong and burned

Even brighter inside.” – Megan Marie Seaman