RAG-DOLLED BY A WAVE
by Andy Harley
posted 2006-06-14

I was given the wonderful opportunity of having my book of 62 poems, Till The Dreaming's Done: "Poems Crafted For Thinking People" (ISBN 1-4137-8232-9) published this year, and this is actually one of the poems that can be found in my book. As my tiny tribute to surfing and also a small dedication to your awesome site, I would like to share with you a poem that I had written.

These wind-capped waves are bone-crushing monsters,
And I'm pickin' up bad vibrations.
With white plumes of spray all over the place,
There are some serious limitations.

In the one brief moment that I turn,
With my back facing towards the beating sun;
I faintly hear someone shout out to me,
"Hey now, watch out, run!"

As I spin around to see what I'm in for,
I'm stuck standing there all alone;
At the mercy of the ocean I now find myself,
Smack in the middle of impact zone.

A gargantuan, dark green wall of water,
That in a way, was somewhat unforeseen;
Has now swallowed me up inside of it,
And it's like being in a washing machine.

Not a single sense of direction do I have?
Tossing and tumbling in the salty black;
Dragging the bottom of the coarse ocean floor,
It feels like sandpaper's being rubbed down my back.

Hurling me all the way inland,
A circle of beach bunnies has witnessed the whole thing.
Sitting on some crushed coral and sea foam,
The saltwater's made my clouded eyes sting.

Getting up now, I'm just a little bit embarrassed,
As wet sand falls off me in chunks;
Very tactfully, I pick the tiny shards of shells,
Out of my crumpled up baggie trunks.

As my bright board slithers down the shore
It's a bummer that I have to go chase it again.
Next time though, I shall shoot the pier,
And hopefully be able to Hang Ten?