Kooks Poetry

A Surf Haiku:

Foot on engine block
Say: Aww, only eight ten foot
Way casual, brah.

by ed hewitt

Ode to the Northeast Wind
Welcome, wild Northeaster!
Shame it is to see
Odes to every zephyr;
Ne'er a verse to thee.
Welcome, black Northeaster!
O'er the German foam;
O'er the Danish moorlands,
From thy frozen home.
Tired are we of summer,
Tired of gaudy glare,
Showers soft and steaming,
Hot and breathless air.
Tired of listless dreaming,
Through the lazy day--
Jovial wind of winter
Turn us out to play!
Sweep the golden reed-beds;
Crisp the lazy dike;
Hunger into madness
Every plunging pike.
Fill the lake with wild fowl;
Fill the marsh with snipe;
While on dreary moorlands
Lonely curlew pipe.
Through the black fir-forest
Thunder harsh and dry,
Shattering down the snowflakes
Off the curdled sky.
Hark! The brave Northeaster!
Breast-high lies the scent,
On by holt and headland,
Over heath and bent.
Chime, ye dappled darlings,
Through the sleet and snow.
Who can override you?
Let the horses go!
Chime, ye dappled darlings,
Down the roaring blast;
You shall see a fox die
Ere an hour be past.
Go! and rest tomorrow,
Hunting in your dreams,
While our skates are ringing
O'er the frozen streams.
Let the luscious Southwind
Breathe in lovers' sighs,
While the lazy gallants
Bask in ladies' eyes.
What does he but soften
Heart alike and pen?
'Tis the hard gray weather
Breeds hard English men.
What's the soft Southwester?
'Tis the ladies' breeze,
Bringing home their trueloves
Out of all the seas.
But the black Northeaster,
Through the snowstorm hurled,
Drives our English hearts of oak
Seaward round the world.
Come, as came our fathers,
Heralded by thee,
Conquering from the eastward,
Lords by land and sea.
Come; and strong, within us
Stir the Vikings' blood;
Bracing brain and sinew;
Blow, thou wind of God!

by Charles Kingsley

Ode to Matunuck:
O, Matunuck, ye of the name that weary travelers cannot hope to pronounce as they speed to NYC and Providence, oblivious;
O Matunuck, we forgive ye of your barnacled entry, where bloody feet carry me outward, toward your lovely waves, a rite of passage;
O Matunuck, ye of the Deep Hole, where no one ever goes because they're always going to the peak to the West, and I sit alone, ride alone, on your wave;
O Matunuck, when I remember the times I sat in your ocean and the sets just, like clockwork, approached, I spun, I paddled, I rode;
O Matunuck, I miss you so dearly as I sit in my office with your waves in my head, stuck there (the waves), until I once again can gaze upon your even holy visage, the Atlantic Ocean, in all it's beauty and glory lapping at your beach...
blah, blah, blah...forgive me but haven't been able to surf, due to injury, for about a month. Major drag, but, yes, Matunuck is the sh*t (if you'll excuse the vernacular), and it's one of my favorite spots down there in beautiful Little Rhody.
Plus, lest we forget, it's also home to the Ocean Mist, apot of so many ripping bands (props to the Jungle Dogs, et al.), good chow, good Guiness...
I guess we're not keeping Matunuck too secret with all these postings, but like Ray said, let's just keep to our "little" group here (and those down there who know it and respect it)...
Mutunuck rules. Hope to see again soon.
--jw johnw@cpg.com

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                                       (surf spot)

Oh Great Neptune,

We beseech thee to awake from Your summer slumber.

We grow sere, And our senses yearn for Your cool touch, Your infinite power, Your deafening speed, Your life.

We hallucinate of Your rising and falling.

We cannot quell the nascent visceral churning as You prepare to unleash Your tropics borne fury upon tiny terrestrial creatures.

And only a few will, upon bouyant sticks, containing our souls, full of spirits, greet You with zeal, immersed, and then waiting, watching, and there looms Your shadow fast approaching, taller and darker than the rest, and we spin, paddle, and finally rise up upon Your immeasurable strength and with speeds as immeasurable (compounded by thoughts as still as the Om).

We reach Your environs, and an existence almost equal to your beauty.

And we are again at peace.

I really shouldn't do these things when I'm on deadline at work, but...I guess I had to get it off my chest.

Send the waves!

--john w.
johnw@cpg.com

SONNETS TO A STORM

A strange love arises in a tropical depression
At first it gives you nothing much to anticipate
But fueled by the heat you'll have time to rest
She rotates a periphery in a high level prelate
Besooth my wild excitement at seeing her mature
Her vicious anger fortold on NOAA weather
Still I bore the pain to wait upon her mild demure
And while she approached I longed to be together
So I drove like a madman to a most secluded beach
I ran over hot blacktop where I burned my feet
Only then after hours did I even hope to reach
Her wild countenance and be forced to thus retreat
Yet no stormy furor upon me did she berate
I yielded to her a burgeoning swell to contemplate

To dare to look upon her undulating curves in motion
'Til fearful thoughts arose in mind were misbegotten
And onslaughts of anger became gentle foam on the ocean
The summer afternoon evolved to fun still unforgotten
In a violent passion I beheld her bounty on display
And with a heaving ecstasy her frequency became mine
Though we frolicked in a mist upon that magic day
Later we would know how rare was love sublime
Her sweet affection held me through another week
We often met, and sometimes did which I dare not tell
Until the day when in haste a chilling breeze did wreak
The fate of all dire thoughts and broke our spell
Prevailing winds extinguish all but everlasting lust

PRAY FOR SURF!!!!!!!!

-KevinO

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