There’s a charge to swimming in the Atlantic that you don’t get at the local leisure centre. Perhaps it’s the abrasive quality of salt, or the electric feel of the cold. Getting in is the hard part. The passive among us may let the waves do the work: a progressive submergence. The bold will run and dive, but this is rash. Showboating may be followed by an abrupt exit. Waist deep is significant progress. Then all that’s required is one duck into the water. Once you’re wet, you’re wet. You might as well start swimming to keep warm.
Once in, the waves move you and cold surrounds you, making feel connected to something larger than yourself. At Porthgwidden beach you see birds arc around the chapel, and Godrevy lighthouse bob on the horizon. Boats cut the water out beyond the buoys. It may even feel that the experience wouldn’t be as refreshing were the water a mediterranean 25ºC. Just be sure to have a warm coffee waiting when you get out.
There’s a poem in The Tide Clock titled ‘The Edge’. Here’s an earlier version of it that perhaps works in its own right, before the poem took a different turn. This version is more overtly about zazen: zen meditation practice.
Waves relinquish the carracks,
make fractals, circles, then stillness.
My shadow drifts on the water,
part of the headland, tailed with rock.
Children play on the fringe of all
they can and cannot imagine.
The green sea peels back and here I am
between the inbetween; grateful,
coping, very nearly thriving,
content to be this not-self after all.
I’m scenery in someone else’s childhood
on a spit of land between blue nothings.
A fishing boat threads the bay
golden with a brazen shining stitch
lit by the falling sun. My legs ache.
So much for zazen. I have an itch.
The Tide Clock version:
Read the rest of The Tide Clock here.
A PDF version of our poetry collection, The Tide Clock, is now available. Click here to read it. Feel free to share it with others.
What do we find when the tide goes out and the coastline is exposed to light again, as if for the first time?
In The Tide Clock, three poets relate their experiences of the sea and everyday living. These are poems about looking afresh at what life places before us.
The new poetry pamphlet I’ve been working on with Joe Franklin and Hugh Greasley has finally published. We really put a lot of work and
procrastination thought into this one. On seeing it, I’m satisfied with the result.
If you’d like a copy, let me know at firstname.lastname@example.org and I’ll post you one.
The new poetry pamphlet I’ve been working on with Hugh Greasley and Joe Franklin has arrived in proof form. There are a couple of minor errors to be fixed: I didn’t leave enough room between the bleed and the page margin on the cover, for one thing. These should now be resolved and I’ve put the order in for the first printing.
The cover art is Paziols Morning by Hugh. Check out more of his art at hughgreasley.co.uk.
Get in touch if you’d like me to post you one!