Poetry: I Blame Oceans

Oceans for Penda

By Penda Smith

And no,

I shall not blame you,

Instead,

I will blame the way rain falls.

Fleecy white pillows thickened,

over-flooded tears,

As if God washed this earth,

in a forlorn dread.

Darkened shreds of dread,

filling empty basins of endless depths,

I blame the way clouds hide the sun.

‘Til I forget there is always light at the end of a swarthy tunnel.

I will blame cracked memories,

hiding in the forgotten crevices of your mind.

I blame the once-upon-a-time fantasies

still lingering in mine.

I blame oceans,

basins of endless depths,

storing my every emotion.

Here is where most dumped their insecurities,

I will blame the way this body of water ripples,

like streaming rain falls from fleecy white thickened pillows,

hiding a sun,

’til I forget there is still light,

at the end of this swarthy tunnel,

I have forgotten the way your smile curves.

Does it still resemble a half moon,

staring at an ocean

with timeless souls,

a forgotten forever

unravels calloused palms

succumbs to turbulent waves,

I swear,

I saw that familiar smile stitched on your face,

and when I came to see,

I remembered

I blamed the once-upon-a-time fantasies lingering in my mind

I wanted to close eyes,

but I’d just be lost in a swarthy tunnel

It’s hard swimming in your own rain

so no,

I do not blame you for this pain,

I blame oceans.