• In Case You Missed One

  • What’s in it for you?

    Custom Search
  • Get Published in 2017

    Submit your book proposal today! Submit your book proposal today!
  • Register Today!

  • Why Take The Chance At Missing One?

    Put in your email address to find out when a new post goes live on The M3 Blog!

    Join 290 other subscribers

  • What’s the buzz?

  • RSS for any Reader

    I heart FeedBurner

    FBFPowered by ®Google Feedburner

  • Like Red Dwyer on Facebook

    Red Dwyer - Author

    Red Dwyer shared Architecture & Arts's post.
    Red Dwyer

    Architecture & Arts
    Colorful Pencil Scultures
    ... See MoreSee Less

    View on Facebook
  • Like the 5,000 page

  • Helping Keep the Power On

  • And Now For Something Completely Different.

  • Patriots & Ex-Pats

    Free counters!

The Jetty

We took a walk last night. Tonight, let’s go somewhere completely different. How many of you like the beach? Do you prefer to sit on the sand or do you like to sit out on the jetty to watch the ships?

You may have noticed Mantra’s picture is missing from this post. She is not responsible for this poem. Instead, Asea comes from the past mingled with the present. Rather than bore you with some long, drawn out back story, let’s cut to the chase. Please read the poem with an empty mind. The images will fill it.


The pier is quiet.
The fisherman left,
And the children
Have all gone home.
The sunlight fades.
The tired sun sinks
Into the sea
Ceding to night.
Alone she sits,
Soul so bereft,
Her mind barren.
Then, thoughts come
In insane shades.
She sits and thinks,
“Why, oh, why me?
Perhaps tonight.”

The memories flicker
Like horror matinees
By the hackneyed actors
Unfit for the live stage.
She felt ever sicker
Of convoluted ways
And lies of the doctors
Still promising old age.

Bottle lifted to her lips…

Bottle lifted to her lips,
She pulls gently and slowly.
The bittersweet swallowing
Fulfills her final purpose.
Fog horns call from the ships
Creeping through the darkened seas.
Waves start her mellowing.

Eyes closed and soul serious
She lies back on the jetty rocks,
Sharp and cold against her damp skin.
Waters kiss her feet, dangling low.
It nibbles at her cold fingers.
Wondering now what kind of box
They will use to put the rest in,
Heavy, she rolls. It’s time to go.
Even now, for her, death lingers.



Tell me what you saw, heard or felt. What does this poem say to you?

© Red Dwyer 2012
Re-Blogging of this or any other post on The M3 Blog
is expressly forbidden.
Copyright and Privacy Policy available
in The Office. 
Content Protection by DMCA.com
Leave a comment


  1. Moving. Love the whole sequence of it.

    • Red

       /  May 23, 2012

      Glad you like it, Mandy. Did you leave a link to your site in the Green Room? Quite a few of the M3 Readers would like what you have to offer.

  2. Oh dear, not a good ending. Makes me wonder WHY? I think this is sad and disturbing but I like the flow of it.
    Tess Kann recently posted..Mucking AroundMy Profile

    • Red

       /  May 27, 2012

      Many people wonder why other choose the way they do. I often leave just enough room to apply the worst when they are sad. On the flip side, I am equally as lenient when they are not. Good to see you today…playing hooky?


Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

CommentLuv badge

0 0 0 0