We’re past the breakers.
The sea swells and rolls
like my innocent belly
during this grey crossing.
I enter the ferry lounge,
hoping for a quiet place
to sit and shut out
the wavering world.
But my best efforts to calm
myself do nothing to the ocean
as my lunch rises to the top
of my unfortunate stomach.
So I don’t leave a mess
that someone else has to clean up
I head back out on the rail
and soon notice that
by accepting the wind in my hair
and the spray on my skin—
by gazing at the mercurial horizon,
the sea sickness subsides.
Bartholomew Barker, Poet 
Yes I know that cascade of feelings
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Sorry to bring them back up.
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I’m spewing that I left myself open to that
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Love the poem but am too dense to connect the poem with the title. I have been on that ferry in December and it was rougher than a cruise we took from San Diego to Hawaii.
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No, you’re not too dense. My poem must to be too obscure. Seasickness is best dealt with by being out in the world instead of hiding away.
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That makes sense. What is the tie to politics? Don’t hide what is going on?
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Don’t hide from what’s going on. Definitely need to put this one through a workshop.
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I would not use the word obscure. This poem is A very good description of your travels and lessons learned from that but But it’s not clear that the lessons are political. So minor tweaks but I’m glad you posted it
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Thanks, JM! I might just need one more word somewhere to make my intent clearer.
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Great post! Very well written. Thanks for sharing 🙂
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Ah, nature’s mercurial remedies, Bart
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It’s all about getting out there.
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Thought-provoking analogy, Bart. I didn’t ride a ferry to Cape May, but I did have a long conversation about politics and world affairs with my daughter today.
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Excellent! The more we talk the better.
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Absolutely, yes! Thanks Bart.
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Especially with young folk.
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That’s a horribly clear description of sea-sickness – brings it all back – as it were!
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Yes, indeed. I also drew on some of my trips to and from Orkney for those descriptions. Honestly, the trip to Cape May was smooth compared to crossing the Pentland Firth.
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I hope the rest of your vacation goes more smoothly. :)
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I’ll be staying on dry land so the lack of smoothness will just be potholes.
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I found this to be a tender poem about surrendering to the uncontrollable, it has an honesty and a surprise that comfort can be found in embracing discomfort.
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I like your interpretation. It wasn’t what I was going for but that just means I need to make revisions. Thanks, Ange!
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I expect we read different things in poetry – I enjoyed my interpretation 😊
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Very well done. I imagine the vision was still fresh when you wrote this- at least it feels that way as the reader.
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It was and I’m glad that came through. Thanks, Violet!
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You board a ferry hoping for quiet and find political dizziness instead—literally queasy in both body and context. That image lands. But let’s be real: politics isn’t something you vomit over; it’s the motion sickness etched into the systems that spin above us. If your only recognition is bodily recoil, you may be more symptom than insight.
Calm doesn’t come by escape. If you want coherence, sit in that lounge and name the breakers: what vomited realities are you avoiding? Which political tides are making you seasick—and why do you think retreat is a solution rather than recognition?
Poetry should do more than reflect nausea; it should expose what’s sick and demand healing. If politics shakes your stomach, let your art infect the system until it can’t ignore the mess. Otherwise, all you’ve written is a poetic excuse for passive disgust.
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Yeah, I definitely need to work on this poem. I was hoping to encourage folks to confront the political reality instead of withdraw from it. Thanks for the comment!
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