Give Me Vision


after the tide receded

he sometimes took my hand

to lead me

to the wet shore

where the stranded sea-life lay

too late to escape with the sea

but hidden

– o –

I was small and he was old

and worn by war

not beaten

but filled still with life

lifting the flatter rocks

for puny me,

the portals

to another world erupting,

with teeming life,

crawling and tiny,

some larger,

some wonderful finds

creatures caught in a snooze,

every one rushing for cover

– o –

we plundered this underworld

with greedy eyes

slippery, gleaming and wet

my retinas printed with motion

– o –

he was deep this man

catching my eye

with a glance

plastered to the moment

for safe keeping

a signal for later

– o –

and the image recurred

as snapshots do, unbidden

demanding a relationship

with the present

urging me on to consider

the underbelly

of this apparent image

and stabbing the breast with a blast

of raw vision

searching the depths beneath

– o –

there in this long ago

and jagged shore

my mentor mage

was writing in code

his secrets

lifting the lids

on a poem of stone

after stone


© Garth Meaney 21 October 2015

All rights reserved

About garth

I'm an indie author ardently writing fiction and you’ll notice a leaning towards Egypt. The book in the cooker right now is called The River Through. Hatsepsut features strong as an ancient enigma bringing her people back to pure after a sullying occupation by the Hyksos. I like these desert ancestors who dragged great chunks of stone for miles to build runways for god. Religion was a major preoccupation always. Magic was mixed in, sometimes called miracles. Christian and Hebrew testaments carried it over. Egyptians weren’t bothered with a history list based on sequential record keeping so there are numerous and bewildering gaps. A definite plus for the fiction writer. (Colouring in the spaces.) Bio: I am very tall and many people call me a freak (and laugh) so a slight chip on the shoulder but thick skinned - not impervious. Lots of short people out there who aren’t pleased to be little too. Given the choice, I’d keep length. Upbringing I am thankful because, during my life I have found many people who weren't so blessed so thanks mum and dad for pulling me out of the lucky dip. Two sisters and a brother, all of them cleverer than me or so they think. A wife who loves me - thanks Gill xxxx Two daughters, a yoga teacher and a nurse who don't quite hate me but we are moving in that direction as I tread heavier with advice. Lovely grandchildren who will develop into super beings if they maintain the current progress. A cat called Squeezely who has finally learned to evacuate his bowels outside. Buster the darling dog with a sensitive way and an over-exuberance for affection but we all let him take us down for licking. He's big. Occupation: Education first: Good military school that chased out the bad in me I can tell you. No-one put a polish on a boot better but it was enjoyable in retrospect. Not at the time though. Art college next and enlightenment - the world was a better place afterwards. Self employed antique furniture and restoration - very enjoyable and fulfilling but not overflowing financially. We did okay and we prospered.
This entry was posted in poetry and tagged , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s