Self-Portrait as Wave
Feeling limited, I succumb to surge,
disperse, reassemble, return
in the calming swirl. Nothing
resembles me. I relinquish this piece,
retain that, and reinforced,
reside in the whorl, swollen,
winnowed to a point and capped,
roar and rumble, shredded,
whole yet apart, a solitary
fist crashing through another
watery torso in response, in
resonance, again, again.
“Self-Portrait as Wave” was first published in the inaugural issue of Kissing Dynamite. Many thanks to editor Christine Taylor for taking this piece.
O at the Edges 
Ocean and its waves are an old love of mine. I identify with being the wave in this poem, Bob
LikeLiked by 1 person
I like to think that we’re all just parts of the same wave…
LikeLiked by 1 person
Possibly “reside in a whorl” is the ideal depiction of human life – given the ever-changing-beyond-control existence we each experience??
LikeLiked by 1 person
That certainly has been my experience!
LikeLiked by 1 person