blogging farmer
blogging farmer
blogging farmer
blogging farmer
blogging farmer
blogging farmer
blogging farmer
blogging farmer
blogging farmer
blogging farmer
blogging farmer
blogging farmer
blogging farmer
blogging farmer


June 28, 2017

Surf in Verse (2017 Edition)




By John M. Giles

(From The Mid-Pacific Magazine, published by Alexander Hume Ford. Honolulu, Hawaii, Territory of Hawaii, Volume 2, Number 4, October 1911. An early example of surfing-themed poetry. Source:


The beach gleams white in the sun’s strong light,

The ocean’s a fathomless blue;

The breakers roar on the reef and shore

And call to me and you.


The water is clear where the great fish sheer

‘Tween the coral rocKs below,

And the surf boards ride there side by side,

While the breakers come and go.


It is each for each as we leave the beach,

And nose through the breaking blue;

It is paddle well as we hit the swell

And brea the white crest through.


There’s a sudden swing, a twist and a fling!

The board points for the shore!

And you fix your eye where the surf flings high,

To fall on the reef aroar.


You watch it leave with a rising heave

Gathering force as it goes;

And you paddle away and you dip and sway

As it near and nearer shows.


Then you flash through space in a whirling race,

And a smother of salt sea spray,

And the sea laughs by and the great bl\1e sKy,

Both call their roundelay.


The warm trade breeze that moves the trees

On the fringed shore ahead,

With lingering kiss and soothing hiss,

Steadies your whirling head.


So it’s out to the roar of the spray spumed shore!

Again and still again,

For life is good on your fashioned wood,

And you care or know not pain.


‘Pipeline,’ Dick Dale and Stevie Ray Vaughan, from Back to the Beach (1987)


‘Theme from ‘The Endless Summer,’ The Sandals (1966)



By Elijah Corbeau


It’s windy. The cool breeze of the ocean.

It gives,, a sense of beauty, in motion.

All is flowing, rushing and tide-

And I sit in wonder, dreaming beside.


Shells line the shore, lining and lining.

The sun is above, shining and shining.

The surf will speak softly, whispering in time,

“Oh my Love, will you deign to be mine?”


So I speak to the ocean, the Mother of all.

There’s no other sound but the waves rise and fall.

Crashing, rushing, babbling in tune

Echoes the evening softness, coming so soon.

(Published at, August 2014


‘Surfin’ and A-Swingin/‘The Wedge,’ Dick Dale on the Ed Sullivan Show, live in 1963



By Blackbird


Beams of light explode over the soft sand,

i can feel the warmth on my face as i sit on the beach,

sinking softly into natures warm bed.

The light seems to turn everything it touches

into a glowing ball of light,

as if god himself is smiling down at the dawn of a new day.

The beach is deserted apart from a few seagulls

that seem to share this enlightened appreciation.

I grab my board and walk slowly towards the sand,

my feet sinking into the grains,

feeling the consistency change as the water laps at my ankles.

My wetsuit keeps me surprisingly warm

as the cold water rises slowly, and i close my eyes,

holding my board under one arm.

I smell the salt, the fresh air, this is what beauty is.

I wander in, losing myself in this new environment.

I duck quickly underwater wetting my hair and face,

floating weightlessly in the water for a second,

before rising, feeling fresh as i grab my floating board and straddle it.

Leaning forward, i can seeing fish scatter

as the first wave washes over me

like a tilde wave of emotions and stress,

i wipe the slate clean,

i am the tabula rasa and this is a new day.

(Published at, November 2014)


‘Baja,’ The Astronauts (1963)



by Bill Keys of


Don’t believe what anyone says

everyone is religious

It’s just that most people rely on some abstract salvation

stuff as elusive as a doughnut hole without a doughnut

This type of religion requires belief

same as Santa


Others rely on a more tangible salvation

as reliable and everlasting as the waves

People who get up at the ass crack of dawn

to practice the virtues





with the dedicated longing

to be at one

with the Divine surge

We’re all born of the ocean

Ride the palm of source

Everyone needs such affirmations

So get religion

Or….get a board

(Published at


‘Surf Jam,’ The Beach Boys (songwriter: Carl Wilson; from the Surfin’ USA album, 1963)



by Judd Handler at

Thank God I Surf

don’t wanna work

can’t stand the stress

my life’s the best


thank god I surf

don’t wanna work

no bosses screamin’ at me

I’ll be somewhere in Fiji


thank god i surf

don’t wanna work

no commute, no 9 to 5 grind

the waves bring me piece of mind


thank god i surf

don’t wanna work

making love to the ocean

shifting hips, grinding motion


Beach break, reef break

it don’t matter to me

all I really want

is to be set free


onshore offshore

you’ll find me there

without any worries

without any cares


thank god I surf

don’t wanna work

longboard, shortboard, whatever floats your boat

no cubicle for me I’m on an island so remote


‘Penetration,’ by the rare multi-racial surf band, The Pyramids, on American Bandstand, March 28, 1964



by Ralph Alfonso of


Waves crash down

6:00 a.m.

Morning mist

Hot sun burning

White boards rising

from the sand

camp stove coffee

smelling good

Fuel for the engine

Rhythm of the surf

Drums of the sea

One by one

into the ocean

throwing our bodies into

the liquid of life

Souls set free

astride our hearts

twisting and turning

propelled by ocean

into the white light of peace


fear the only obstacle

adrenaline the reward

sweat is our offering

baptized in the waters of

our creator

cleansed of our sins

given strength

to carry our message of

an infinite calm

a silence within

as day begins

the sound of the surf

dawn of the drums


‘Ride The Wild Surf,’ Jan and Dean (written by Jan Berry, Brian Wilson and Roger Christian; title song from the like-titled film, 1964. #16 single). Ride the Wild Surf, directed by Don Taylor, from a screenplay by Art Napoleon and Jo Napoleon, features authentic big wave footage shot in Oahu, as seen here as the setup for Jan and Dean’s classic song.



(Jan Berry/Brian Wilson/Roger Christian)


In Hawaii there’s a place known as Waimea Bay

Where the best surfers in the world come to stay

And ride the wild surf they come to try

To conquer those waves some 30 feet high

Ride ride ride the wild surf

Ride ride ride the wild surf

Ride ride ride the wild surf

Gotta take that one last ride

Surf fever brings them here to meet the test

And hanging round the beach you’ll see the best

They’re waxed up and ready just waiting for

The surf to build up on the northern shore

Lined up and waiting for that next big set outside

Nothing can stop it cause you’ve just gotta ride ride ride ride ride

The heavies at the pipeline are OK

But they can’t match the savage surf at Waimea Bay

It takes a lot of skill and courage unknown

To catch the last wave and ride it in alone


Ride ride ride the wild surf

Ride ride ride the wild surf

Ride ride ride the wild surf

Gotta take that one last

Gotta take that one last ride


‘The Lonely Surfer,’ Jack Nitzsche (1963)

blogging farmer