Gigging for Flounder When I Was Twelve

I'm posting this poem because I just realized that it wasn't here anymore. I posted it shortly after I wrote it, but I must have accidentally removed it back when I was having problems with the blog.

Although most of my poems now are centered around Meegan, I do write about other things on occasion. The occasion of this was my son's twelfth birthday. He's almost fifteen now, so I'm sure he's forgotten all about this.

Gigging for Flounder When I Was Twelve
- by Steven for Clayton


I went gigging on calm nights
off the beach in Mississippi
in late summer
when I was twelve
I had a lantern - the old Coleman type
that you can turn up ridiculously bright –
and a Styrofoam cooler tied to a little rope.
For my gig,
I had a stick
with two prongs on the end of it.

Sometimes I went alone,
But it’s best to have a buddy to pull you to shore
if something takes a little bite
or a sting-ray pops you
or the worst - the jellyfish.

I waded out barefoot.
Gig in one hand,
lantern and the rope towing the cooler in the other.
I shuffled along –
waist deep for a twelve year old.
I had to shuffle and not pick up my feet.
Because it’s hard to spot a sting-ray
and painful to step on one,
but if I pushed them up from below,
they just swam away.

I’d see the flounder –
sometimes just the eyes –
hiding
flat
on the sand.
I’d spear it with my gig,
wait until it settled down.
then pull it up and shake it into the cooler.

The best gigging was way out on the sand bars.
Most people wouldn’t go out there at night.
I’d stick the lantern,
and some matches,
into the cooler
and swim out to the sand bars.

I didn’t just gig flounder out there.
I conquered fear.
I marveled at the horribly beautiful
rainbow-colored malevolence
of a jellyfish floating by.
My skin became electric.
My eyes sharp as broken bottles.
My heart pumped hard enough to make the waves.

When I swam
away from the safety of the shallows to the sand bars,
a charge flowed through me
at the contrast
of the cool deep water around my legs
and the warm water at my neck.
Then, standing chest deep,
far from shore,
in the moonlight,
before the lantern was lit,
I could feel in my chest,
the pulse of the ocean in the waves.
I felt small and insignificant,
like driftwood.
I felt intangible,
like the billions of moonlight shimmers on the water.
I felt triumphant
and primitive
and humbled.

Then I'd light the lantern and start gigging.

Cap De Creus

Meegan and I didn't get to take our Cancun vacation. At the last minute, I had to travel to Germany for work. So instead, Meegan went with me and we took a week of vacation in Spain. We flew to Barcelona and drove down to Sitges then up along the Spanish coast to the Costa Brava region until we reached Cadeques. One morning while we were in Cadeques, we woke up early to drive out to the Cap De Crues (Cape of Crosses) to see the sunrise. Cap De Creus is the eastern most point on mainland Spain and marks the end of the Pyrenees mountains. Rising above the sea cliffs is an old lighthouse. This lighthouse was the filming location for a 1971 movie called "The Light at the Edge of the World". I liked the sound of that, so I took a little artistic license and tweaked it a little and made this poem for Meegan.

We'll be back in Cancun soon, baby. I promise!
You are the love of my life! (And you know I can't wait too long to see you laying on the beach :-)



Cap De Creus
- by Steven for Meegan

I was there with you -
as unbelievable as
the living shape of you
from the water of life
and the ashes of stars -
yet,
I was there with you

We walked.
The silk wind
fluttered over our skin
Your dress a happy sail
My heart a stowaway to Shangri La
At the dizzy speed of laughter,
we walked.

I saw
the light at the end of the world,
the jagged edge of the old continent,
a coral sunrise in your eyes.
In a land with no trees,
I found a tree to climb.
From the edge of the sea cliff,
I gazed up at you
and I saw
the light at the end of my world.

Father's Day

Despite the name, this was not written for Father's Day. I just liked that name for it.


Father's Day
- by Steven for Meegan


I figured out everything about driving
while riding in the front seat with my father
while trees and side streets slid by
I watched his weathered hands
on the wheel
and the shifter
I saw the sacred rituals that made the metal monster go

His right thumb pushed the shiny cigarette lighter in
then back to the steering wheel
left hand twirled the window down
then back to the wheel again
right hand to the lighter - just as it popped out
curved hand cupped the lighter to his face
then clicked it back into place
right hand grasped the wheel
left arm raised to rest on the window seal
Then he would squint at me through the smoke
to see if I had all of that figured out

I figured out more than just how to drive
I figured out that most people are idiots
and my dad could make a car go faster than anyone else
I figured out that adventure was out there waiting
on the curvy backroads
where the trees covered the road
and out on the crunchy gravel roads
where we would stop and wade into the cold water
and look for buried treasure
and stick smooth stones that must be as old as the world into our pockets
then get back into the car
and rumble off
just before the Indians could sneak up on us

I don't know what my father thought of me
when I was a goofy kid
asking too many questions
What does this button do?
What does that light mean?
Are we gonna see Indians today?
Can I build a raft when we get to the big river?

I don't know what he would think of me now
He was gone long before I started to really figure things out

Sometimes, the little boy inside me hopes,
that on some Father's Day,
he'll come driving down our little backroad
and pull his midnight blue Ranchero into our driveway
snuff out his cigarette in the ashtray
step out
and squint at me through the last of his smoke
to see if I figured it all out
I would shake his hand
and bring him inside to meet you
And when you met him
and smiled
and gave him a kiss on his cheek,
he'd smile
and he would know
that I finally did figure it all out

Only You

It's been too long since I posted. I've just too busy with life. No good excuses really, just poor prioritization. Anyhow, here's another poem I wrote for Meegan. I love you, baby!


Only You

- by Steven for Meegan


Only you know
that if my soul has blades, they are blue.
Sharp blades -
turned blue by the heat of lust,
quenched for strength in the cold blue water of sadness,
polished by the soft blue horizon of dreams,
- cut to the surface
and emerge in my eyes.

Only you can see
the glowing edge of a long-silent soul
shining like a beacon
to guide you close to my whispered love.

Only you can speak to me
with the touch of fingertips
and lips
and skin

Only you know
the tease that makes me giggle
and the one that makes me growl

Only you can know
what mysteries,
what wonders,
what adventures,
what joys,
these eyes will see
before the ever-marching darkness dulls the blades
and drains the blue hope from these eyes.
Only you.