Green Eyes by Scott Cuttre

My name is Scott Cuttre from Belmar, New Jersey. I grew up an hour from the beach and my parents would take day trips to the Monmouth County area when I was young. I was instantly drawn to all aspects of the surfing lifestyle and even though I would have to view this culture from afar for many years I always new I would become a surfer rather than someone who surfs.

Eventually, I moved permanently to the Jersey Shore with the soul purpose of spending every opportunity in the ocean.

After becoming increasingly disenchanted with the way surfing was being covered and written about, I began writing surf related articles, interviews, reviews, and poetry.

My latest surf related poem is entitled Green Eyes. This poem is a true story about an incident I witnessed and decided to get involved with after a much needed surf session at my home break in Deal, New Jersey. The words are a reflection of a day filled with rejection, self analysis, possible tragedy, dealing with pressure, and being mesmerized by one girls' green eyes.

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Maybe it was the season's sweltering hold or life stealing a once strong spirit
the need to continue searching for the ocean's perfection no longer inclined my adherence

This lust had waned, becoming hidden but not replaced
attempts at reconnection grew fewer, deep down somewhere encased

Unable to escape circumstances, deciding to nurse lost desire to search
carrying this broken down spirit to my once sandy church

Necessity and seclusion allowed me to call this street my home break
endless miles being driven, regardless of stakes and heartaches

Past frequency of visits, tempering decadent palaces neighboring
only relating to lavish surroundings when climate turns less favoring

Peering down on this stretch, distinctive to what others claim their main stay
often overlooked or dismissed this street simply named Hathaway

Conditions appeared appealing so I knew what outcomes could be awaiting
a day when most were work free, crowds I wouldn't be escaping

Even the angriest holding gripe couldn't find fault on this day
beneath the cloudless cast sky, lie fun swell on display

Peaking weather plus waves brought plenty far from the know
making sure to catch my fair share before masses forced my decision to go

As my feet sunk in the sand I was splashed with an old feeling of relief
holding this moment precious, disallowing my mind to find reason for grief

Days like this taken for granted when a younger me showed no concern
now compromised by time, learning how quickly things turn

Thirty years would brush past me, watching a child rush to the safety of his mothers grin
a reluctant smile crept onto my face, remembering how I used to be him

Climbing up the natural formed bridge unique to this pathless landslide
wandering amidst bodies melting, carrying my board and fleeting pride

Absorbing each ray, in need of all the sun's strength and power
two tanned bodies would appear, rekindling lost chances and desires

Movements put on hold, attempting to garner something similar to courage
contemplating how to approach with the right chosen verbiage

Desperately fighting not to show I was surrendering to what I was fearing
my glance for connection would be denied, could I actually be disappearing

What was missing was the strength to untie my personal bind
like endless encounters before, two more faces not meant for mine

With my confidence depleted, my walk alone now seemed longer
I began to question every instinct followed, and opportunities forever squandered

Ripped away, a proud posture, high hopes discarded to the sand
when from behind, rang a yell, resembling a battle crazed minuteman

Desperation thrust my attention, watching feeble hearts run
for a second time hearing the screeching plea, "someone call nine one one"

Spectators on their feet as this harrowing scene began to play out
why was my walk down to the commotion so calm, trying to locate the life in doubt

A strange courage I possess, differing from the missed opportunity prior
I'd soon be right back where I started, helping a life span appearing dire

As I dropped my board to the sand, faces were puzzled in denial
unaware of the true circumstances, the victim still unsecured before my arrival

More than a witness to this incident, refusing to wait for what others might do
deciding to join the fight with every step I previously withdrew

Nonchalance poured through each stride, preparing to reentered the ocean's blockade
with nothing to lose but the chip on my shoulder, somehow so far from afraid

Garnering as much notice as the tragedy unfolding was the proprietor of information
chaos took a back seat to her green eyes glowing in my direction

She quickly filled in the blanks before my descent about to take place
pointing to a man fighting with the jetty and his leash knotted like a lace

No true relief in sight, with other attempts causing nothing more than unrest
was it only me holding clear thoughts to aid the distressed

For a second time taking a knee, connecting my board to its home
much more at stake this time around, my purpose finally seemed known

Her green eyes looked concerned still I had to prevent this man's last say so
hoping my reticence might remind her of a martyred hero staring at everything he'd like to know

Clinging tight to the rip providing push to my stride
a compromise might just have to be made, his struggling soul traded for mine

When I arrived he had freed himself up from a sure fire demise
resolve still unclear, fear overwhelmed his bravado masked guise

The jeopardized life made a move yet to be duplicated
climbing up the tractionless rocks, his legs and arms bleeding from every angle serrated

Halfway down the jetty is where we'd meet, trying desperately to calm his nerves
"free the rocks from your feet, and your life I'll preserve

My directions seemed missed, within his slow crawl
as I paddled over to an indent separating the jetty's wall

I'm not sure if it was fear or his own private mission
but all my comfort filled instructions wouldn't pry him from his position

Unaware this plight was true, prepared to die for my sins
his fear ridden expression revealed he wasn't ready to die for his

"Kneel over to where I'm floating and I'll safely paddle you in"
still too scared to appreciate this savior's dream day requiem

Unbeknownst, to my right, stood the soon credited heroes in blue
no longer a concern, lack of provocation served as my exit cue

Gasps of worry turned to relief as the applauded respondents reeled him in
I wasn't expecting too much, maybe a thank you, a shake, just a grin

My effort was too close to feel useless, yet unseen by most
not the Father not the Son but an aspirant Holy Ghost

As I moved through the sights and lights for all that flashed
in search of eyes lanterned green so I could throw a feeble pass

She was the only one, for sure, who saw the attempt that was sought
if anyone were to appreciate my heroics, for her I wouldn't be an afterthought

Ignored by all the others and there were plenty that passed me
pursuing acknowledgement, heroine for me she would be

Looming again were the steps how many more times on my own
I'd spot her walking away with another, not even a slight image of my clone

Maybe I should've been proud for the intent I showed
but all I thought about was how my spirit was destined to be unknown

Admiration, far from the reason to reenter the surf that day
when I recall this man's eyes, more than mine praying to stay

Looking down on the commotion not as someone who intervened
now just another random viewer, blending in to the scene

I took my wayward steps back, aware of my matter of course
packing my car with just my board, harbored feelings of remorse

Why did she have to been attached, when I thought luck finally chose me
then before I turned my key I felt her green eyes from the sea

Trailing her companion, flashing a smile not meant for him
we stared at one another, knowing this was an end that never would begin

As she passed me for that final time, a shared moment was embraced
all effort somehow sufficient, my spirit saved and replaced

Scott Cuttre