The Rhythm of a Cruel Summer
Day 10 of 100 Poems: How the Ocean's Rhythm Calls Me Back—To Memory and to Poetry…
Day 10 Prompt: The rhythm of the ocean.
Surf City USA
There are few things I miss about my childhood town but the things I do miss are simple satisfactions.
A cold slice of watermelon to cut the humidity, and a quick drive to the coast to take a dip in the ocean.
As I watched two people bobbing in the sea on my tv, a memory comes floating up to the surface.
I thought of our reckless souls – my cousin’s and mine. Braving the waves of the ocean,
water to our necks, jumping to stay above the waves and trying to catch the current at the right moment
to body surf
to shallower waters.
Unaware of the danger, unaware of how deep we were going and what might be lurking beneath.
Led only by our curiosity and the rhythm of a cruel summer.
Copyright © 2025 by Carla Monroy
A Word on Trying to Remain Consistent
I have been away. The last few months have been a bit of blur. The month of October brought on a lot of traveling for work which took a lot of my bandwidth. I had been talking up a big game about remaining consistent and the importance of keeping it up and then I stopped.
For a moment, it felt like a failure, but I realized I needed to recharge my battery. All that to share with you that I am back with the poetry prompts and with an intention to post a little more frequently and to keep the poetry coming because, we need a little poetic distraction, given the times we’re living in. And, this leads me to this week’s poetry prompt.
Reckless Souls in Surf City
The ocean has fascinated me for decades. For so many different reasons, for one, I am the daughter of a fisherman, a California girl, and driven by the tides of the moon. I grew up visiting the oceans of Orange County during the summers in my pre-teen and teenage years.
Two encounters with the sea came to mind when I thought about writing something inspired by the rhythm of the ocean. The first, of visits to Huntington Beach. My cousin and I would swim in the ocean for hours. Bobbing in water up to our necks, tempting the swells, as they picked us and put us down. Unable to feel the sea floor for several seconds. The sea would have us at her mercy, and we were brave for going that deep. Jumping the waves was really just about pushing our boundaries. I guess that is part of the excitement of life. Living through the fearlessness of youth.
The Ferry That Kissed the Sky
My second memory is of how strong the rhythm of the sea could be and reminds me of a ferry ride gone wild to the tides of a monsoon season. Oddly enough I share this memory with the same cousin that makes an appearance in today’s poem.
We had been vacationing off the coast of the Andaman Sea. During the month of May, when all the high seasoners have left and taken the calm waters with them. After the high season, the waters tend to get a bit choppy. We’d been staying on the island of Koh Phi Phi and it was time to go back to the mainland which required taking an hour and a half ferry ride.
This first15 minutes of the journey was met with slightly choppy waters but then the wind picked up and lifted our boat with it. I had never seen waves so large while being a passenger on a vessel. Some seeming to appear as if they could blanket us into a barrel. I remember feeling surprisingly calm, while others around me cried and threw up. The sounds of crashing dishes in the back of the boat, not helping the situation, and perhaps the calm I felt came from finding some comfort in the nervous giggles of the boat’s crew.
The sea showed a small percentage of her strength to me that day. Not that she had to because something so vast is to be respected.
Your Turn to Dive In
We made it back to harbor, and as cliché as it sounds, I nearly wanted to kiss the ground as I stepped off the boat. Needless to say I avoided boats for a while after that incident but have since been on many.
Have you ever had any close calls with the sea? What types of stories or memories or even fantasies do you have about the rhythm of the ocean, please do tell in the comments.
Do you know someone who enjoys poetry and grew up going to the beach? If they’d get a kick out of the story today, please share it with them.
