Friday, March 30, 2018

Friday 55 March 30 2018

Another Friday, another 55 words to chronicle the long march, the wild hunt, the dance of the living and dead. We come to remember a man who had more to give than take from the world of blogging, Galen Hayes, and to explore the meme he brought us as the world turns around us in its ceaseless change. There are no rules, no social obligations, except to write 55 words of prose or poetry--no more, no less, and link them in the comments below between Friday and Sunday morning for myself and others to read. Comment moderation is once again on to discourage the trolls, so please be patient.




I dreamed I smelled the sea this week...



Seascape, 3 AM




Landlocked I dream
of the wind that
comes ten-thousand miles

without one human breath,
wind that throws
its sleepless
seasmell in my face,

singing louder than
the giant's roar
of broken time.

 Free as wolves
before the hunter's shot,
alone with the one I've loved
but never had;

my seaweed dreams
blow this life
away.



~March 2018






Optional Instrumental Accompaniment







Image: Seascape, 1879, by Pierre-Auguste Renoir    Public Domain


27 comments:

  1. I live by the sea, and yet do not feel it as deeply as you, here. perhaps opening my eyes would help.

    <a href="https://grapeling.wordpress.com/2018/03/29/fresh/>fresh</a>


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    1. I have never had a smell be so pungent and real in a dream--that certainly helped open my eye, anyway. Thanks.

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  2. and, hopefully, the correct link ~

    fresh

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    1. Sharp and clear, cold as the blade and warm as the red from that slice...thanks for playing M.

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  3. You inspired me to consider the triptych again.. of which this is Part I. A rather morbid fragment of autumn weather...

    http://kerryoconnorsother.blogspot.co.za/2018/03/the-rag-and-bone-shop-part-i.html

    You have made me long for a ten thousand mile breathless wind, and the scent of the sea. It brings to mind my daughters, who live at the coast and me too far away this Easter weekend.

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    1. So glad to have you participate, Kerry. Perhaps the sea will come to you, as it does to me, if you can't go to it.

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  4. There ought to be a law forbidding such soul and depth and beauty of description in a 55, but then again, I'm grateful that there isn't. I played the music vid as I read, and it added to the experience. You aced it here, Joy, and it's a kick and a pleasure to read something this good with my first cup of coffee of the day.

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  5. Lafayette, I am here:

    http://fireblossom-wordgarden.blogspot.com/2018/03/hawk-and-hollyhock.html

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    1. This was just gorgeous--and I'm so glad you enjoyed mine. I literally wrote it so close to being asleep that you could hardly call it 'while conscious.'

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  6. I am rather cheekily submitting mine, even though it only counts as 55 if you add the words of the title. But this poem was birthed in an particularly impish spirit, so it only felt right to try. Feel free to disregard if the rule bending is unacceptable. http://kestrilsrhythmsandgroove.blogspot.com/2018/03/a-drop-of-jasmine.html

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    1. I was very moved by the frustration and longing in this piece. That detail of "landlocked" surrounded by all that gorgeous ocean imagery really drove home the feeling of confinement and near madness of wanting to touch something impossible to have.

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    2. Thanks. You nailed the feeling well, Rommy. And no probs with the exactitude of the word count--I feel like titles are optional to it--my take is to use them if needed, and not, if not, as long as the spirit of the 55 definition is there. (Sometimes I even do 54 or 56, but don't tell, okay?)

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  7. Oh my goodness, this is superb! I love it, Joy.

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  8. It seems on this last day of March, the ocean is in our thoughts. I wrote mine, came to post my link and found this wonderful poem of yours.
    https://kanzensakura.wordpress.com/2018/03/30/the-mermaid/

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  9. This poem is superb. It encapsulates the feeling I have for the ocean. My ancestors came over and settled on the NC Coast when there was barely anyone here...I can smell the wild smell of the ocean and hear her voice.

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  10. Kick Ass way for me to greet the morning. A soulful song to the sea. Wonderfully penned. I may join in after coffee ;)

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  11. I've been wanting to take part in your Friday 55 for a while. Now I'm here and what a superb prompt with which to start. It spurred me to re-work a poem I wrote for NaPoWriMo last year but never developed.

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  12. http://writinginnorthnorfolk.com/2018/03/31/sea-front-at-7-a-m/

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  13. A beautiful song of the sea...elemental and so tactile. Here's my tuppence worth. Have a kick ass weekend Joy.

    https://paulscribbles.wordpress.com/2018/03/31/blue/

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  14. What is about dreams, offering physic in ways we can't identify, only sing? A scent of the sea, balm for the weary wounded brain, a sitz bath in waves a thousand miles away. Where do I sign up? Sorry I have no 55 this week, 2 attempts both two lame to post, this Mac working very badly, in need of repair or replacement. I'm far from any shore right now. Be well ...

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    1. Thanks for reading B. Sometimes there truly is nothing to say, and we must float till our words come back to rescue us. I too am due for a new system someday soon--my modem is 15 years old and getting very cranky--sail on, my friend, and breathe deep.

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  15. The sea air does have magic in it, you are so right.

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  16. Anyone who ever encountered the ocean is well known to those breezes and winds. Forty five years later, living in a land locked place I can still smell her moods.

    Well lat to the party but better late than never says I. workin it

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    1. Good to see you Mark--and I can relate to that heart beat repeat perfectly.

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  17. Sorry to be late to the party, but I take your advice and breathe deep:

    https://blueoran.wordpress.com/2018/03/31/are-you-ready/

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    1. No worries, just glad you found the muse-ings. I hope the weekend finds you well, my friend.

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  18. The 55 is closed for the week. See you next Friday, and thanks to all who came by to read and/or contribute.

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