October 7th, 2013 05:19 EST
Leaving Port by Nick Purdon
There is a sense of coolness
In my disappearance over the horizon
These are mine: distilled crystals of coldness
I scatter them beneath the polar sun
Into which I have sailed.
Heavy, like a spell about to break,
I try to drop anchor
But can only circumnavigate like clockwork
Grinding grudgingly back to the same old place
So fierce, these teeth bite the hardest.
Open eyes as white as sails
The cracked compass deceives "
My needle spinning in the squalls,
I flirt with, but never touch,
The harbour lights.
Out in the sea, a glimpse of a buoy
In the deep, churning waves
Blown to black, a bruising back
And, like The Flying Dutchman,
This, too, will be my fate.
About the Author
Nick Purdon was born in 1976 in East London in the Eastern Cape province of South Africa. After a few moves around the country, his family settled in the Western Cape city of Cape Town in 1981 where he has lived since. Nick began writing poetry seriously at the age of 27, though he had been writing on and off since his teenage years. Along with various projects with his sister in web and graphic design and visual art, he intends to follow this collection up with more poetry in the future, as well as a collection of short stories and children`s stories. He is also active in the field of addiction counseling and working on a full-length book detailÂÂing his own addiction experiences.