Salt of the Ocean

By J.M. Watson

Salt of the Ocean is J.M. Watsons first book of poetry. He began working on the project in 2007 at the age of 31. Now, two and a half years later, he has produced this wonderful book of poetry, which includes over a dozen black and white illustrations. Salt of the Ocean is J.M. Watsons poetry at its best, as it closely examines the delicate fabric of life and its myriad of subject matters.

J.M. Watson dives into topics with great detail, illustrating his perspective on youth, aging, death, becoming a better human being. J.M. Watson now lives in Tigard, Oregon with his two cats, Jersey and Yorke.

• Language: English
• Publisher: iUniverse
• Release date: Jan 7, 2010
• ISBN: 9781440195693

J.M. Watson

J.M. Watson was born in Guam on February 12, 1976. He is currently attending the University of Phoenix to receive an Associate's of Arts degree in communication. He is an aspiring journalist and novelist.

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Copyright © 2009 J.M. Watson

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

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ISBN: 978-1-4401-9567-9 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4401-9568-6 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-4401-9569-3 (ebook)

iUniverse rev. date: 12/30/2009

Contents

Nightingale’s Wings

Copper

Offbeat

Manasseh

Below

Missy

Brand New Day

Heritage

Jesus Knows

Backs toward the frontline

Degrees

Scorpio Lady

Dearest Mother

Love Lost

National Guard

Time Out

Apple Crisp

Discovery

Escape

Sunlight in October

High

The Epicenter Of Our Universe

Hustle

Makalu

Follow

Liquefy

Took it as it came

Sitting Them

Laugh

Message

Eminent

Anything

Long Time Gone

Eponym

2018…I will become Miss Beach woman’s Dream Maker

Sipping from Broken Teacups

Procreator

Only

The Shakedown

Breakup

Expert device

I Palm Me

Far Away

Passport

Masonic Brick

Future

Bird

For Gail D. Watson, my dearest mother.

1947-2008

Nightingale’s Wings

My back rests calmly on tree trunk bark…

Whistling wind rattles through the

leaves above…My hair flutters erratically

in response to the breeze.

I feel joy by watching nature in the

works, embarking upon a constant mode

of creation and destruction…Yet it has

had a significant purpose to the composure of earth with ease.

I close my eyelids and feel my eyelashes

getting ticklish. I imagine myself in

flight on nightingale’s wings.

I wish I were.

I fulfill a need, security.

Eyes wide, flustered by emotions, I

witness a beautiful sight. Nightingale’s wings,

fluttering above, quickly.

The wings of a nightingale.

As the mother sits in the nest, she

has prepared for her young the ways

and means to prepare them for this world,

purpose.

As the mother

mirrors, herself,

she fulfills their need,

identity.

So how will I ever discover Acceptance…?

Copper

Done with all the atypical solutions

said and done before, no

bankroll of quarters available.

I’m hoping Abraham will make it last forever.

Dense rhymes conjure up philanthropy.

Service of heart is kindness of hand.

Charity is much more then benevolence.

Copper spent for child new

To be counted out has its benefit,

when there’s nothing left but you.

The clattering soles of shoes still chatter,

a penny is dropped into a piggy bank,

it’s my savings.

Left stiff, caught adrift... Happiness

is a table set for two. The seating is

for Very Important Persons only.

Be sure to make your reservation soon.

Copper spent for child new

Drained precious metals for a cent aren’t worthless if well spent.

Offbeat  

Lately, it just seems to be anxiety. The only reason why I feel so threatened by slightest, sudden annoyances. Darker city blackouts coming in any form, surprising me. Always happening all around me, constantly, surrounding me. Your alpha sin creeps deep into my omega skin, once again. With a losing hand, how can I ever win? Absolutely.

I don’t mind me…it’s simply recovery.

You can’t find me…I’m just a middleman’s feet.

I’m only offbeat.

Ohh…I remember when I lit a spark like gunpowder in a silver spoon given out of love...I’ve just used a hammer to smash my pills, they’re only painkillers. I’ve just smoked my lucky cigarette to calm my ills, game player thrills. I’ve just loaded a Maria Juan bowl I got from my dealer in my only pipe I own…I’ve just accomplished so many things, everything. So what am I to do next?

I won’t blame you…I’m just a discovery.

You can’t rhyme as me…I’m just a middleman’s feet.

I’m only offbeat.

Behind velvet curtains, we hung like raptors, draping to the edge of the stage where it drops. Where each of us once stood, taller. So I stand here, looking out from where I am, wondering where you are.

I can’t claim you…it would be a robbery.

I can’t sign my name as me…I’m just a middleman’s feet…

Ohh, I, I, I’m only offbeat.

I am in rewind. I will take my time. I am out of here alive.

IMG_1262%20-%20Offbeat.png

Manasseh  

We are at war with the tribe of Judah.

We only care for the tribe of Benjamin.

Together we are bound with the tribe of Ephraim, found.

Ten lost tribes of 144,000 clutter the media in congregations.

Their grip gets tighter on our technological inventions.

A patriarch develops his authority to foretell your lineage.

He’ll disclose your secret for you.

Once it’s known you have to take sides.

Otherwise, you’ll end up falling for anything.

I am a Manasseh tribesman.

I know my origins.

I realize my birthrights.

I understand my blessings.

Our land has become a nation at war.

He promised it long ago.

If you knew the half of what I know -

I’m sure you’d be as distraught as I am now, only

You have other priorities to worry about instead of my concerns.

A matriarch stands beside her man to help him become stronger.

That’s always how I thought it should be.

Cast