Tod Thilleman - from "WaveRun"



We sought rest in the sea's vast numbers

Reckoning time's final law and sway

Understood in word or not

Relied on model a dirigible though dead

Willed no deterrent property of air

Continence complete circuitry would make

Ancient wishes ambulate.

Eternity's kin now cuddled in the foam

Rescues science's starveling assumption

History's no blood an ocean to witness

Land-locked perdition

Machination, mind and kingdom.

Great suction of the wave-run.

Cupped whorl roils hoary wind

Not of ice but south and seaward

Roars up deep-echoing heaven

Ruppled soar bloring confusion increase

The line of waves increasing surf

Washed and sheening the shore

Splashes high-wave drop to wash

Roaring wave-cones gathering wind

Soar and blore hailing roar-tide

Sea-change, weather's whorling hoards

Wind's roar wave's wash-run

Gory tone coursing shore-shower.

Can you not see ocean born of love

Move not to wave but through love

Changes though it be hard calcined sea-wall

Salt-blocks of attention the ant-like cities build.

We sought as touch the vast violence of love

In form of Ocean's reasoning law

Extend blood measure not citizen's rights

But ballast an intellectual out-rigger

Many-journeyed shipwrights' gaze

Infinite craft sails honeymoon's hand.

I no longer have patience

To understand, nor bring my system.

Named the model and in that call

Reception's a predetermined existence.

Identity changes so too land mass

River cutting new gully through rock

Molecular, prime unit

Come from not, to be this world.

Matter's journey reflects our journey?

Let the sea open let all open ear

Creation waxing the further star's light.


Lambent in a bowl of earth

Shore-land's sand washed surf

Foamed falling flat stretch's mirror

Effulgent pattern face of sea sounds

Running ridge's darker winks height's tip

Surface wave's body moves moon

Shifts current we cannot see

Detail's shells of worn rock

Suctioning vast wave.

As a finger runs under cloth

So ridge moves scintillant sea

The pebbly beach of noon.

All the sand not fallen into bowl's

Slow heave-drop waits under sun's gaze

Made by that action in the form of fate

Incline water's ramp foams

Reason's sole shape and number.

This the passage wave

Breaking layed-out water

Divides sky from sea-shore

The rounded rocks are

Many contained by one

In a run toward winkled lambence

Water's weight-mating ply.

Land-shift created tsunami

Rising fall and run

Sea dispersing bowl's tapped sides

Vibrate round concentric circles

Matter's earth of containment

Value mined for fuel and food

Good speed of rest enclosing

News of your participation.

Sea's endeavor born of itself discovers

Constant interpretation bloring beach

High-pitched sheen consonant rumbles

Dundering echo bowl's water holds

Breaking slosh-wash wave's

Laving light bubbles strands of sun-lit

Pearl, glass, impermanent winkled

Wavelets, wave-break to foaming white.

Wave's wash rushes

Among all waves' place

Final sound-swell

Sand in a suck up

Coiling tube floods tide's pool

Lambent again boat's dropped plumb-line

Anchors unknown current.

Copyright © 1995 by Tod Thilleman.

Wave-Run was published by
Spuyten Duyvil
P.O. Box 1852
Cathedral Station, New York / 10025

Light and Dust @ Grist Mobile Anthology of Poetry.