Wednesday, September 15, 2010

Poets and Poems - Steve Roberts


My water bottle empty, I’m too exhausted
To haul my surfboard to the ocean.
Creatures persist; or don't.
Too many species already extinct,
Which alternate facet of energy
Will take their place -- ?
Could molten lava have shaped
Abundant water into a heart:
Vessel, vein, and chamber, bubbles for lungs . . . ?
Inside tree-like bellows flames roil.
( -- Would I dream the unrecognizable creature
From which I was produced . . . ?)
Feet not barefoot since summer
Submerge into the water, warmer than the air.
The cloud bringing a sudden chill,
A couple of seagulls glide  
Beside my wind-sheared, tearing eyes.
My flimsy hat’s rim flaps as I stumble north. Impossible
To make headway like the gulls. I zigzag
Until a thousand invisible
Leg-biting sand piranhas turn me back
The direction I came from.
My legs like shock-absorbers, a gust of wind thrusts me forward.
The horde of surfers drips out
Of the white-capped chop.
I would glide, were I a gull,
Molt like an up-&-down-&-in-&-out sun.

~  ~  ~
Read about Steve's collection of poems entitled Another Word for Home via the link below:

If you would like an autographed copy, email Steve at

If you would like to participate in this series, send a photo of yourself composing a poem or writing or a picture of a location where you enjoy writing, along with one of your poems (the type/genre of poem doesn't matter). This series will allow us to see the various locations that inspire us or where we go to write.

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