Brant Rock
I was standing by the oceanAn endless sea of faces flow and ebbVoices penetrate my thoughtsI could taste the salty sand through my noseThe jetty stretched for yardsI scaled the rocksLeaping and boundingUntil I reached the endWaves sprayed my legs and stomachThe seaweed clouded the waterLike soupWhales blast their breathWaving before they submergeYet no one appreciates the scene.
Copyright © 1989 Sean P. Pratt, all rights reserved
The Origin Story: This is from a period in my life where I was dealing with a messy divorce (at far too young of an age) and no direction in career-wise. I turned to poetry when I was not out carousing with my friends. The poems from this period are more purposefully existential in nature. They also leaned heavily on Jim Morrison and Arthur Rimbaud. This particular day my friends and I went to Brant Rock Beach in Marshfield. I had a moment of pure clarity and it filled my mind (and soul) with positive energy. I had to write it down.