|
|
 |
Sissi Sea
Posted: 29 September 2016
Word Count: 61
Summary: I've just been to Crete for the umpteenth time. I love it there. My favourite thing is sitting by the sea and watching. Not people watching. Sea watching. This was the only thing I wrote in a fortnight (it was a very lazy holiday) and it needs work. It may need binning! :-) Let me know either way.
|
Font Size
|
|
Sissi Sea
The people here
hold fleeting interest
among the faded
white and blue.
Different versions of me
in another life or time.
But the sea...
The sea offers secrets.
Promises. Lies.
Her blue-green
binds you to her
indigo horizon with a
Kelpie's kiss.
Unfurling white-lace dreams
at your feet.
Breaking against
shingle and sanity.
To snatch away
and offer anew.
|
Comments by other Members
| |
 FelixBenson at 14:31 on 30 September 2016
 Report this post
|
Beautiful tribute to the sea. And so beautiful in Greece on the Isands. I like the way the opening stanza sets the scene but compels us away to the point of the poem - the sea. The opening lines make a comparison between what is or isn't worthy of our attention. Lightly done, but just right. Giving the poem a way to shift gear into atmospheric images and a meditation on why the seas fascinates us.
But the sea...
The sea, this poem tells us, is contradictory, unrealiable, supernatural...I quite agree. Nothing more mythical, nothing about it that we can control. The last few lines I found particulary affecting:
Breaking against
shingle and sanity.
To snatch away
and offer anew.
Shingle and sanity. I liked this line a lot - the sea breaks into our sanity and offers us something new - something better. I took this to mean, the sea disrupts the banal, the sensible, the ordinary and refreshes us with a sense of something deeper and more satisfying.
Hopefully I am on the right track. Thanks for bringing me a bit of Greek sea on a wet Friday afternoon.
| |
 James Graham at 20:56 on 01 October 2016
Report this post
|
Hi Jo-Ann. Good to see a new poem of yours, one that on first reading seems absolutely top-rate. Kirsty's comment says a lot:
Shingle and sanity. I liked this line a lot - the sea breaks into our sanity and offers us something new - something better. I took this to mean, the sea disrupts the banal, the sensible, the ordinary and refreshes us with a sense of something deeper and more satisfying.
It's an inspired line. However, I'm playing catch-up at the moment, and will comment more fully (hopefully) tomorrow.
James.
|
|
| |
James Graham at 15:50 on 02 October 2016
Report this post
|
As Kirsty says, a beautiful tribute to the sea. It’s the middle stanza that really grabs me, with the reference to the Kelpie. There’s a subtle balance between the beauty of the sea and its threatening aspects. According to the legend, if you touch the kelpie – whether it’s in the shape of a horse or a beautiful woman – you can never let go, and you’re dragged into the water. As we read the poem we’re aware of this old literal meaning, and it sends a little shiver down the spine, but we also see that the kelpie is symbolic of the irresistible attraction of the sea. The meaning that’s uppermost isn’t the grim fate of the legend; the whole stanza is saying that you’re metaphorically ‘drawn into’ the sea – to observe it, to watch it for hours. I think this meaning is supported by the colours:
Her blue-green
binds you to her
indigo horizon
We know these colours are always changing, and along with the motion of the waves (very well captured in the last stanza) they are what makes the sea so fascinating. It’s quite a long time since I walked along a shore, but I’m tempted to go, feel the little shiver at the thought of the kelpie but at the same time just watch, and love it.
As for the last stanza, I can’t express it better than Kirsty’s comment above. I would add that the closing lines –
To snatch away
and offer anew
– state a truth about the sea, that it takes away (human life, disturbingly often) but it also gives back.
The only lines I’m unsure about are
among the faded
white and blue
They don’t quite make sense to me. I wonder what it is about the people on the beach that can be described as ‘faded white and blue’. Maybe the towels they lie on to sunbathe, or their swimsuits, or parasols? It just seems a bit vague. Perhaps instead you could insert two short lines of not-very-interested description of their appearance, such as tall and short, fat and thin. (This is a rather ridiculous example, but you will find something better.) Or else leave out those lines:
The people here
hold fleeting interest
different versions of me
in another life or time.
If this opening stanza were even shorter, its brevity would reflect your relative lack of interest in the people. As I read it here, it now seems even more dismissive, and I arrive sooner at the beauty of the sea.
Next time I do go to the shore, I might look into the distance and think ‘Sissi Sea’! Your title almost seems shorthand for the fascination of the sea. I’ve enjoyed this poem very much. It’s a fine piece of work.
James.
|
|
| |
 Jojovits1 at 19:10 on 02 October 2016
Report this post
|
Hi James and Kirsty!
Thank you so much for your kind words on this. I'm glad it all came across ok.
James, Sissi is a small fishing village in Crete. We've been holidaying there for twelve years and have just come back from our fifth or sixth visit. The "blue and white" I was referring to was the very, typically Greek colouring of the buildings. To be honest, it's not really needed. I'm glad you got everything I meant from the Kelpie reference.
Kirsty, you were bang on with your take too. I find watching the sea both refreshing and healing (for the soul)! It cleanses the senses and let's you breath again. Swimming in it scares the daylights out of me and I am always in awe of the power it has.
I'm a big fan of the elements 😁. Would love to go storm chasing!
Thanks again!
Jo
| |
James Graham at 20:37 on 02 October 2016
Report this post
|
I've never been to Greece. If I had, I would have got that reference to 'faded blue and white'. Still, I think that shortened first stanza is enough to say about the people before moving on to the sea.
James.
|
|
| |
 V`yonne at 15:27 on 06 October 2016
Report this post
|
I love the onomatopaeia in this poem! the title starts it and sounds like yes Yes YES! which is just amazing for a title to do that kinda orgasmic thing!
I might just emphasise that aspect a bit more by doing this:
She unfurls white-lace dreams
at your feet.
Breaks against
then
shingle and sanity.
To snatch away
and offer anew.
is just so ssssssssssssssssssish :)
|
|
| |
| |
Comments by other Members
