The Unexamined Life is Not Worth Living

JULY 13, 2011 8:39PM

When My Heaven Comes

Rate: 59 Flag





I dreamed how the sea tastes

on skin

the smell of ocean in tangled hair

 sun streaked

a dream of creaky beds

brown arms  

and ceiling fans

the feeling of waves  still underfoot

at the last closing of eyes

 the smell of coconut

of aloe

the white noise of a window fan

blowing cool on moist skin

grey sand circling circling

the bottom of a claw foot tub 

I dreamed a dream of how green your eyes were 

how dark your skin

how the white cotton dress hung

and how easily it slid from

 sunburnt shoulders

of our hands on our mouths

 that muffled the cries

 eyes filled with laughter

and small deaths

I have dreamed a dream called Summer

 where you will find me

when my heaven comes. 







(personal photo) 











Author tags:

youth, heaven, summer dreams

Your tags:


Enter the amount, and click "Tip" to submit!
Recipient's email address:
Personal message (optional):

Your email address:


Type your comment below:
Rita! There are so many good words, stirring images here. I went round and round with the grey sand in the bathtub. Excellent and timely.
i could smell and hear the ocean, my sights fully feasted.
I really, really like the title -- a great phrase...and then you take me to the beach with all of the smells and tactile senses.. Very nice, thank you.
Your words often make me want to cry. Even when they are not sad.~r
that was a comforting journey Rita. :)
It's so alive, you must have had this dream in sleep.
Your words always create images that make me smile.
I wish I hadn't just watched a piece on tsunamis on The Weather Channel. Your visuals and sensuals almost gave me a panic attack. You do soak up all of the nuances and parcel them out just so. Mmmmm.
the Cape... too close for comfort
almost, forever... imborrable, there
you put me again rita.
This poem reminded me why I moved next to the ocean. Thank you.
how easily it slid~

what a wonderful thing to know, rita. that you will squint your eyes, just a bit, smiling.
Exactly. Exactly as I remember all those summers, all that love, the laughter and little deaths. This one is quite perfect, Rita, quite.
Thank you Rita for the wonderful journey. I needed that.
Oh, just beautiful and evocative. You've taken me back to so many perfect summers down the shore. I long for them still. My heaven too.
Lovely sensations of reminiscent summers throughout this verse mixed with something more ethereal. I feel as though I've read this before or maybe I'm transported to a universal place. Either way, hope you get to enjoy your little bit of heaven as long as the season remains.
Beautiful imagery. I love how it starts with the "how the sea tastes on skin." This poem is so sensual. Really enjoyed this!
rita, your talent has grown so much since I was here a year ago, I love these poems and they make me feel a lot, what I feel I cannot put into words but strong posts of late. R
the r's get stuck. so r again...
My emails don't go.
It's because I'm hacked.
Pop ups tell me that.
Grant us lasting peace.
Free unmerited grace,
There is nothing more`
Worth experiencing than`
That what only Lovers know.
am so tempted to visit folks,
a ocean beach, watch seagull,
cloud, ay daydream. Ah peace.
May you find peace today and always Rita

for all the sand in the hourglass of the oceans...
dianaani, thank you, claw foot tubs and outdoor showers, Summertime.
Chuck: thanks friend, sound of seagulls.
Marty's Husband sometimes a phrase just pops up in entirety (?) whole. This is one thank you for reading
Joanie, sorry. Tears always work for everything though, don't they. Exactly the same emotion I was having. TY
BD: A dream, a journey back in time. A place I love to revisit. TY
Bleue: more in that time right before sleep or waking. I smelled the sea on my own skin and it brought back so much. Thanks Bleue.
Spud: glad for that. smiles and Ray Bans
Matt: Ha! Tsunami might have a small place in the last stanza. TY
II: you always take the journey with me, thanks for that. Sorry when it is sad or bittersweet as many are. TY II. The Cape. Yes.
GH: I envy you friend. TY
Catch, Candace: all the small things that make up Summer and the same with Heaven, thanks for remembering with me.
Tril, Most Welcome. Thanks for your company.
toritto: ah yes. the infinite appeal of the white cotton dress. no summer memory complete. TY for remembering with me. Smile here.
Down the shore Sally, that's it. We know those days, don't we, thank you.
Scarlett: many images here are probably universal, coming of age, sandy beaches. I did write one called Grace about much the same and last summer. Thank you for recalling with me.
Susie, just what I was looking for, glad you feel I somewhat got there. Thanks Susie.
Wendy: thank you for thinking so, it means a lot, value your input here, nice to see you. and the rate always is nice too!
What only Lovers know is a lot of things isn't Art. Perhaps they are hacking you for the knowledge you give. Daydreams, large clouds and seagulls, these are the days. Or were. Thank you always Art.
"For all the sand in the hourglass of oceans" what a perfect line Mission, it sounds like poetry to me.. thank you.
Beautifully rendered! Your artful appeal to all the senses infuses your poem with a vibrancy that is electric and luxurious. An arresting and stimulating poem.
This is my first read of the morning and you have awakened my senses.
This is my first read of the morning and you have awakened my senses.
elegiac, languorous, and this:

"grey sand circling circling
the bottom of a claw foot tub "

oh la la. c-est ce bon.
Oh, I remember days like that! May we never forget them. Rita, I felt like I was right "there" as I read your beautiful poem....
Thanks Jerry, your comments and insightful reading inspires me.
BSB: Mr. Coffee watch out! Smile.
Heart back Fusun!
Greg,.C-est ce Bon. Indeed. TY for coming by Greg.
Patricia: Good thought.. holding on and remembering. Savor is the word perhaps. Thank you Patricia.
You have a beautiful heaven. You've made me think about what mine would be like.
I like this heaven; it is very close, very familiar.
wow, that's summer
BV maybe that would be the opposite OC to Moritfying Experiences? or not.. TY
Sophieh: glad you know this place, it was wonderous at one time..TY
Kasia: Yes. TY
How I love the dream you dream and how your dream touches me. I see it, feel it, taste it, hear it, smell the scent of ocean ... in tangled hair. I began to see your picture and your words last night and all these hours they have held me. Hold me still. Thinking of you, Rita, as you dream your dream. Thinking of your heaven peace. Thinking of you.
Gorgeous. That IS Heaven. Thank you for taking us there with your perfect, vivid descriptions.
Thank you anna1, I have been in and out of a dream like state, and thinking of past and future and what happens when we go away. It led me to the ocean and that led me to remembering other times and how much it seemed like the perfect paradise. Thank you for coming along, always.
Alysa: you got it. for sea lovers and romantics, it is. Thank you.
Super poem Rita
nice visuals throughout.
Last line is a clunker for me
but apart from that I so enjoyed!
Ha! thanks Eric, got any good revisions in your poet bag ?
I did play around with it, and wasn't sure about the line breaks either.
appreciate your input, friend.
Yes: heaven. This morning, Mrs. P and I were sitting on the love seat in our room, reading our books before she went to work, comfortable in pj's with the window open right next to us, the morning sun brightening more with each word we read, the birds singing to us, and I was so damn happy. I didn't even think about how I hadn't seen a game since Sunday . . . .

Rated for loving the white noise of a fan, the look of white cotton on sunburnt shoulders, the taste of the sea on skin, and for long, luxurious, and heavenly days.
Such vivid imagery, Rita. My shoulders felt a bit sunburnt by the time I finished your poem. That vivid! Thank you for sharing!
The poet already knows that I am a mountain man not a beach man. The poet should also know now that this poem is nearly enough to make a mountain man reconsider.
ATP: I love your comment, it is so You. You enjoy every moment and I appreciate that so much about you. You also understand about the shoulders. TY
Pranay: there is something that tinkles after a day at the beach, I think its a sensual feel, like the sway of the ocean itself. Thank you for reading and the thoughtful comment
SteveDos: I am married to a mountain man, yet even he has succumbed to the white dress and claw foot tub, tan legs and the feeling when everyone leaves on the beach at 5pm, you will stay and swim in the surf, go back to somewhere with a ceiling fan and dust the sand off each other's brown skin. Just sayin.
love it Rita. Thanks for a small moment of happy in my day.
Why is it that I can still feel the water right before I fall asleep? No other time, but when I lie down. I don't want this dream of summer to end. It's a good one this year!
yes, yes, yes
(this is delicious)

and the image you chose, breathtaking
Oh three my poet, writer woman who know. Yes.
Hey Jules I feel like there is so much we know that we would laugh all night long under the creaky ceiling fan.
Raz: that feeling just before you drift off that you are still in the ocean. Only comes to those who stay in the surf for hours at a time. you get it. I knew we were kin somehow.
yes. yes. and the image is mine so YES .. V we capture all the dream like things said and unsaid. I like that you like this.
The visual had me wishing I lived by the ocean and could run barefoot along it's edge. I really enjoyed this picture perfect view of a summer day..
hey LL, I see you on the beach, smiling , hey thanks so much.
Ah yes. If it's not heaven it's got all the ingredients for it.
Hey Nan, one hundred degrees today, pumping up the air, going back to bed and hopefully, dreaming of it. TY.
well.u say u"have dreamed a dream called Summer
where you will find
when my heaven comes. "

great. cept for the dream weaver who wove you the right dream
too soon..

dreams are made tomorrow night from tomorrow's events
and to rest up for tomorrow u gotta get
a good sleep tonight.

trust in the ones who need it most.

those who have never not earned it.
nuff said.
not enough.
i am tired of speaking.

i a into faux.
Well James, is 3:43am and I just read you comment. I wish I was asleep or sleep would take me now. You too, you are on the EST so why are you awake also?
I am glad you liked that line, re-thinking it. Thanks James
o rita keep rethinking just like a girl.
from a boy who loves to see girls keep rethinking
so he can learn something,
like why he is always re thinking stuff and
it could all mean,,,
and whatnot..

she says, it is for itself.
he says, ok, but who is itself and whyyyyyyyyyyyy does it it?
she sez o mister u nuts
he sez yaaa well girl tell me something i no know..ha
o rita keep rethinking just like a girl.
from a boy who loves to see girls keep rethinking
so he can learn something,
like why he is always re thinking stuff and
it could all mean,,,
and whatnot..

she says, it is for itself.
he says, ok, but who is itself and whyyyyyyyyyyyy does it it?
she sez o mister u nuts
he sez yaaa well girl tell me something i no know..ha
Very evocative.
Sensual to the max. Sandy and salty and so much more. "Lovely, lovely Rita Maid..."
Thank you Buffy for the read..
Thanks Lea, appreciate you coming by.. the Lovely part I like..
My fives senses are awakened. Thank you.
This is so right with me. I can feel this day or season in your words.I hope you get your wish too.
This is so right on with me. I can feel this day or season in your words.I hope you get your wish too.
I am late on reading this poem... as you know in two weeks I will be on the pacific side front view of the ocean with ceiling fans . I will read your poem as my ritual in the evenings honoring my dear friend Rita ,her mom and Father.
jra: thank you so much for reading and enjoying the imagery.
GP: thank you for visiting and welcome here.
Algis, I feel happy you understand these days and seasons. TY
Simonede, of course you realize the relevance to me, of heaven, now. My parents lived for their two weeks or week at the shore, they took a late night walk every night alone on the beach. I hope his heaven describes these moments in his way, this is mine. Thank you for honoring them, I am moved.
I read this days ago and could find any words . . . I was swept away in the images, and could practically taste the salt. So sensuous and and rich. What a wonderful heaven, I think.
"I have dreamed a dream called Summer

where you will find


when my heaven comes."

This is lovely.
This is lovely, Rita.
You have such a gift with words and the essence of things...
I just kept re-reading : )
Owlie, never too late, Hope and JustThinking, glad you enjoyed a trip to the ocean, or my version of heaven.
Rita, I devoured this. It brought to me vacations in Ocean City, but made my own dreams of it brighter and clearer and lovelier. I hope you reach your perfect heaven someday, but not too soon. I need more of your poetry first!
I keep coming back for another read. This one sears.
I almost missed this poem post.
I got a popup that I keep getting.
The server can't be identified as`
Someone who is sympatico. Nope.
What's that mean? I check it's okay.
I think that means I share personals.
I am not teasing. It's irritating as hell.
Who don't like creaky bed with springs.
Maybe it's time to hop up and down`gin.
If we fall out of bed we get bump on head.
I am sure flirting with a ride to Nova Scotia.
They salt air heals from fly bites and frogs.
Frogs in throat make farmer almost croak.
Thanks JJ, sorry I am late to this. Ocean City or any beach town i guess, although I have my favorite. Nice to see you.
Thanks Scup, I love when you come by poet friend.. glad you enjoyed.
Art, so happy you weren't sent elsewhere with the pop ups. I am actually thinking of taking a road trip to Prince Edward Isle in NS, what a coincidence. I am going to see if I am up for it in August. Thanks Art, for all the support and love you send my way. I appreciate it very much.
rita shibr.
People tell me that Prince Edward Island is beautiful.
If You do travel to Nova Scotia? Please let me know?
The Island is visited for a Peek at the Flower Gardens.

I have almost visited the Island. I email you ref. beach.
I am in Love with a beach near Shelburne, Nova Scotia.
I am itching to take off via New Brunswick. Halibut fish.
I wish human-mortal could ride a mermaid out to a sea.
We can sprout fish legs and use fins to see ocean corals.
Climate in Canada is great for Blue Coral Bell Flowers.
Where I go (soon?) the elders are given free halibuts.
I can show you Digby? Scallops. We'll visit a Lawyer.
James L. Outhouse is a motorcycle rider. Honest.
I took a photo of Mr. James L. Outhouse's Sign.
I'm lucky as a Canadian duck-loon. You too.

I feel like a 7- years old with red freckles.
I'll use ads to find Face-Lift Information.
We can spread suntan lotion of our feet.
You know how I feel about nasty deletes?
Yesterday I emailed you when blog broke.
I could get on old ` Con Chapman's Bog.

Con looks as handsome as Mr. Outhouse.
James L. Outhouse will take you to dinner.
Lawyers teaches how to say` Scallop' good.
Never cook scallions too long. Mushy. Ugh!
Just simmer scallions. No overcook shallots.
Digby, Nova Scotia has a `Harley Hog Rally.
It's in the autumn. 65,000 bikers go to eat.
I was there last summer. Visit Bear River?
They are known for purist wine standards.
No play tug-O-war in Bear River. Why not?

Last year a politician lost 3- fingers. Ouch.
Honest. Politicians ruin wine festivals too.
I emailed you the deleted good "Rant" too.

Yesterday I'd have wrote about birdsongs.
But - The gadget was hacked bad. Kerry?
I think a cat bit off his tongue and pinky?
What's the porpoise?
He win NYC dog show?
He need a pretty hair curl.
Send Kerry a pink baby bow.
I wonder what happened?
Why are some blokes bah?
If you nasty you rot inside.
I just emailed you. Forgive.
You are supposed to Love.
Love thy fellow bloggers.
I wasn't online too much the last few days Art, I missed this. Hoping for PEI this summer...
Lobsters and scallops. Convertible ride up or take your PU? Not a motorcycle girl, too noisy for me. I will download the music, pack the food (crackers and cheese, Italian sopresetta, summer sausage) We'll stop at the chowder shacks for a cold one and some chowder. Maybe James E will meet us for a fish sandwich in Boston.
Rita shibr, You are so talented!:)
Thanks for the great insight! Langer with heat pump prices inc
Lovely sensual language. As summer draws to a close, these are images and feelings to linger over, savour and sustain until the season & heaven return, and you know, they will ...
Wonderful, wonderful, wonderful. I wish I could think of a better adjective, but I'm still swirling around in beach limbo.
Kim perhaps this summer dream is only for the young. Thank you for your visit and seeing the sensual way I dreamed it and remembered it.
Janice: with thanks for your reading. I have been stagnant lately, I appreciate your going back to read.
I came back and enjoyed this all over again.

you captured it perfectly, summer and sex and the ocean and sand. lovely. :)
Thanks Algis and Monkey. Sigh. Summer's over. In many ways.
Oh, Rita, my dear pal, don't be an old lady and say
such silly things as "sensual dreams are for the young"
or "summer is almost over"..

that is why humans invented the "inside"!!!
anywhere, anytime, can be the summer of the soul.
crank up the heat
for a treat
this winter,
and wander slinkily scantly dressed
to do your dusting and
all that other girly stuff like baths & emoliant oils and
making the kitchen
& bathroom spic & span.

summer ?
see dylan's song...
uh..."summer days"..

summer days, summer days are gone\
i know a place where
things are still goin' on...
James James, I won't do dusting after I have just oiled and perfumed in my jacuzzi, no no way. What I do is frankly none of your bizness but yes you are right, there is still a summer left in me.
Dylan as god. I like that.
well no, nothing is really my bizness.
and dylan is just a godsoaked golem.
and i am sorry if i
was obnoxious...
James at this point my bizness is your bizness, we have a bond, so no worries. I am as easy going as this poem. Ceiling fans, creaky beds and sunburnt shoulders, laughter and late nights. That is me.
Beautiful and sensually intoxicating. I can smell the sea.
Beautiful Rita. Rated!
Hi Rita, pleased to make your acquaintance. Such a lovely visual and so well written. Flamenco Beach in Culebra, PR? is also one of those heavenly places. It is on my list to re-visit. In white cotton.
Thank you Bedelia, welcome here.
Nice to see you Angel, glad you came by to read.
Hello Ande, I read your wonderful piece thank you for coming by to see my blog. Welcome to OS!
Sounds like my heaven too, Rita. Very well-constructed and rich.
I sweetly persuaded (uh, ‘bullied’, in a nice way) poor scarlett sumac
Into writing a new piece yesterday, but I doubt it would work with you, so all I shall say is ‘gosh, I hope that rita writes a new poem soon, sure would love to read some inspiring mature stuff’

I liked your comment on mz. Alexis james’ ‘noodle’ blog.

James, a pest.
Thanks Beth, I appreciate your coming by, I figured you would get this every which way.
James: the spirit moves and the spirit doesn't budge.I wrote a few things but I felt they sucked. Seriously worse than some of my other stuff i am not happiest with.Anyway, maybe soon.
I hope Alexis got my drift.
rita, i know all about the motive spirit, and how it sometimes
cannot be moved into delivering, even when
we ask it politely to please provide inspiration,
or harangue it with promises of getting it some good publicity
if it perhaps could get off its lazy ass and send the whirlwind
for awhile.

When it comes, it will be wonderful. I was just "jonesing"
for some wonder.
Alex gets all drifts, usually, yet still she is stubborn in her campaign
of terrorism against her own soul, sometimes.
Sundrenched days await, with sunscreen on tender feminine shoulders built to shrug off the intense immediacy of the insanity they encounter in the other place, the chamber of the so called Fathers, where upstarts are admired for their physical beauty and the coda to capitalism is: well it is doomed til the air strangles paradigms in our throats and we are mute and

Listen finally to the white dove sailing seeking rest in the sand.

Bird calls are a fine area for young boy Scouts to study

Have faith in the hawks overhead , and the American eagle

Roused from two centuries stony sleep on the ledge above the capital building.

Endangerment is his ploy, yet also his reality.
"I dreamed how the sea tastes
on skin
the smell of ocean in tangled hair
sun streaked
a dream of creaky beds
brown arms
and ceiling fans
the feeling of waves still underfoot
at the last closing of eyes
the smell of coconut
of aloe
the white noise of a window fan
blowing cool on moist skin
grey sand circling circling"

excellent. excellent imagery. you took me home. and for a moment, i didn't yearn to be there, i just sat(read) and was comfortable.
Renatta I must run not walk to see if you have a new entry.
thank you, I know many of these are cliche, so I appreciate your finding new life in them, and comfort. TY for going back and reading.
o, no new entry as yet. i do have new material but haven't posted. for now i'm reading.

the lovely thing about poetry is that each person can find a treasure within. i did. and no cliches got caught in the net.
Renatta wish I could tell you how I feel when you come back and comment, as I feel you are the real deal, so young and immensely talented that you read this and like it, well, hey. Thanks.
though i'm land-locked, i could hear her, the water, where i long to be. thanks for reminding me of that longing, though it's never easily forgotten, and always on my mind. perhaps if i had her to keep me company, this constant state of loneliness wouldn't be.
What a beautiful post. I can relate entirely.