Prose Poetry Sea Poems | Prose Poetry Poems About Sea

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These salted memories tell stories
The oceans and seas gave birth to.

Over the tempestuous waters
Echoes from the bellies of slave ships
Ride the tides of history

Spreading ripples over the shores
Of time proclaiming forgiveness
For lost souls.

We sashay along bleached beaches 
Where white sands mask the shed blood;
And splashing waves drown out
The ghost echoes of rattling chains:

We no longer remember
Our beginnings here.

Copyright © millard lowe | Year Posted 2015

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Surrendered Dreaming

I knew you long before
    pursuit's intention shone,
felt you in sun's fiery warmth
       & shooting star surrender,
heard your voice on soft
  burbled whispers of sweet zephyrs
    and nectar'd songs of hummingbirds,
saw your depths of magnificence
        in sapphire ocean tides
     cresting 'neath effulgent moons
savoring breaths of crystalline
   snowflakes on crisp sea air,
I knew strength in your convictions    
   for it braved every fantasy's illusion
     acquiesced 'tween dulcet desires,
whilst the strong presence of your charms
     envelop'd every night's dreaming

Copyright © Paloma P | Year Posted 2016

Details | Prose Poetry |

Sand Castles

Upon a beach I came to stand
And watched a child at play. 
He did while playing in the sand
A point of life convey. 

With scoops and buckets he did build 
A structure tall and grand. 
And to the child the beach did yield 
A castle made of sand. 

But as he left, I do recall, 
Away I did not turn. 
And with the coming night would fall
A lesson to be learned. 

The tide came in, with force did strike, 
The castle could not stand. 
And I was shown how life is like
A castle made of sand. 

And man is but a child at play, 
His works they will not last. 
For all he builds within days
Shall be by time surpassed. 

Each thing we do, Each thing we say, 
Each notion we conceive,
They all to soon shall pass away, 
Yes, this I do believe. 

We leave no mark, we leave no trace
That shall forever stand 
Be sure my friend time will erase
Our days however grand.

Copyright © Stan Bradford | Year Posted 2007

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Last memory

Bathed by the ocean blue 
There came a thought…
And it was solely of you.
How you’d dance across the night sky
With palms and the waves, waving good bye
With hopes and lights
All lost and wandering the night
Not at all lost…
But not at all found
I’ve wandered these towns…
I’ve wandered these thoughts,
Where has the time gone by?
No longer you dance…
No longer you play…
Just sit there in the sand
By the oceans nice bay
Dream with me tonight
Dream with me of all the things we once would do
Come back to life…
Just once…
Dance with me one last time
Beside the oceans blue
Come back to life…
Give me one last memory of you

Copyright © Jessica Kuilan | Year Posted 2012

Details | Prose Poetry |

Mist Rising

As I sit alone on this rocky shore. The mist rises around my feet and I long for much, much 
more. Just to go out to sea and meet the horizon just you and me in our blazon. To feel the 
salt water as we sail away to enjoy the beauty of this day in this very protected bay.  To kiss 
the rose of early bright.  Maybe stay way into the night and see the moon and billions of 
stars. Reach up and touch the loving God.  The one who made you for me and made the sea 
and misty shores that consumes all my lonely and tiresome chores.

Copyright © Sara Kendrick | Year Posted 2010

Details | Prose Poetry |

Sunsets and Journeys

Poem about beautiful sunsets and the journey of life.

Spent all day walking on the beautiful powdery white beach. Picking
up oceans treasures, scallop shells calico in colors rich and diverse,
conch, coral, cockel, Sand dollar, sea biscuit, lightning welk, snell shells
of every kind. Ocean breakers emerald crashing and rumbling up onto
the porcelain beach. Wade out let it splash all over me so cooling and
refreshing along with ocean breeze. Splash on the face I lick it off,
exquisitely salty. sand Pipers skiddering along, Pelicans and sea gulls
in the indigo sky catching my eye. Such beautiful things my spirit uplifted.
Sun now kissing the ocean in an explosion of colors. I sit down
 to take it all in. Orange, scarlet, green, violet, purple, amber,
 gold, emerald, jasper, amathyst, amber, alibaster and every
 hue inbetween. A glorious feastfor the eye and mind
 to put at ease. Dark now as the golden moon
takes it's Majasties place. What a simply wonderful day.
Giving sigh it's over I could do this forever. Time to go back to my home
in Arkansas. We have beautiful sunsets there as well. Beautiful mountains,
streams, forests, springs, caves, clear lakes await for me to revisit.
The air is clean with a fragrant scent, purple, yellow, orange, lavender,
azure, indigo, cardinal, porcalin, pink and more colors than I can
describe wild flowers frow. Clear blue rivers rush with white roaring 
rapids to float, forests of emerald abundant to explore. Mountains 
treacherous to scale, Hot springs to sooth and heal both body and 
spirit. Diamonds to find, red, champagne, blue, sparkling enchanting 
exquisite. Crystals bound in the mines near the healing hot springs,
amythest, garnets, water crystals, rubies and jasper in georgeous
colors crafted into rings, bracelets, pendants, watch bands and so
many more elegant things. I may never get to return to the beloved 
beaches again in my life, but I still have all these wonderous things
in My Natural Arkansas. However if I am fortunate enough to return to 
the glorious oceans and beaches, I will once again enjoy the treasures,
pleasures, sunsets  to behold so bold and vibrant, more wonderful
memories if it comes to pass. one never knows for certain what lays
ahead down lifes path so onward we go and enjoy each blessing
that the Lord has prepared to us to see. Hopefully we will learn on
this journey to love, care for and share with each other.

Copyright © Jack Ross jr. | Year Posted 2011

Details | Prose Poetry |


Glide and sail into the waves of the sea,      
conquer the tides, and the groans of the wind
while motionless heaven watches, 
where for decades, the sea murmurs life ~ love.
Hungry eyes, eager ears ache at the quay;
mother and I wait with cold arms at the dock.
The sea, the wind, and the heaven remain
unchanged will the sea bring the ones coming and
leaving here to the place, they desire to go?
Pain sears her thoughts when she remembers Father;
years have passed; the scars of his leaving are not yet healed.
She loves him so. She can’t forget the gleam in his eyes.
I hear Mother sob between litanies of prayer each dawn.
Only Father's return will mend her broken heart.
Years pass, the scars she wears are not yet healed.
At the seaside where Father last departed, we recall his request
Move together don’t look back, move on together, always.
In the pale light of this day, as I hold Mother’s hand and
we walk along the quay, I felt Mother shudder as she says
Move together don’t look back, move on together, always.
That day, more than most, we did not want him to be away
as a tender, embedded, memory returns of Father’s smile.
Glide and sail into the waves of the sea,      
You may stand among us who survive life's tides 
while motionless heaven watches, where for decades
now I tell the tale from memory of Father, the sea of life ~ love.
a new child’s hears, our eyes tear at the quay;
Yet, our open arms spread wide embracing every day.
The sea, the wind, and the heaven remain
unchanged will the sea bring the ones coming and
leaving here to the place, they desire to go?
~~Inspired by the painting: Morning at the Quay in Venice 
by Helen Allingham~~

***Thank you Debbie Guzzi.. =`)

__Olive Eloisa D. Guillermo__
4:58pm; January 21, 2015

Copyright © Olive Eloisa Guillermo - Fraser | Year Posted 2016

Details | Prose Poetry |


A gray dawn, a dark twilight.
 Daybreak, dawn, dusk.
A flash of lightening across the horizon.
 Windswept trees, in all bent shape, 
Such is the result due to harsh winds 
 That travel for miles and miles.
And we have no knowledge from where it came from
 Or where it is going.
But that its travel continues across the daunting mass
 Called; Ocean.
Oh how it churns the water.
 I can feel the mist and spray cover my body
And tingle my hands.
 Standing in the shallow the air blows about me
With sandy hair raging like fire, slapping my face.
 A feeling of unknown,
Watching angry waves become violent.
 And a shiver of coldness, trembles my body.
A sense of peace,
 I have one thought;
Where did it come from?                                       

Copyright © Elizabeth Brown | Year Posted 2015

Details | Prose Poetry |

Siren's Song

I long for the open sea while gentle waves call to me in my sleep
Dreams of salt air and a boundless horizon
No words ride the night, yet I hear her song and know her voice.

Stand I here at waters' edge while the moon bids her rise to greet me
To embrace her as she beckons me to follow
To become one with her, or perish in the striving

Marooned, here I stand on this island in the sun
Afraid to plunge into the depths, I am rooted…captive
Denying myself passage to that distant horizon

O happy tide, would that I were as free to leave

Copyright © Christopher Thor Britt | Year Posted 2013

Details | Prose Poetry |


Red, amber, green, blue, indigo ,violet
Each colour has its own secret

Arranged on top of each other
It is a magnificent view to the onlooker

The sight of the rainbow 
Makes the face glow

Originating from an unknown surface
It moves from place to place

Decorating the sky with its magic colours
It is one of nature's wonders

A reflection produced by the effect of sun and sea
Which children love to see

A marvelous and colourable display
Tainted with a natural spray

Announces the imminence of the rain
Just like the signal of the train

Lo! the rainbow is kissing the sky
Visible to the naked eye

Though it 's just a mirage
it brings joy through its image

Copyright © Azad Boodhun | Year Posted 2016

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                                      STORMS   DON’T ALWAYS LAST 
 Shipwrecked, my ship destined for destruction
 As I sailed across the ocean, storm waves beat against me 
Destined for destruction, destined for disaster
Moments of despair, silenced with fear, I tremble
My heart raced with beat of uncertainty	
Never would I imagine that this day would come 
Waters  surrounds ,  and engulfed me 
My ship continued on a course I have never experienced before
This time for sure I thought I would die 
While I sat there praying that the storm would soon be over 
Tears streams down my eyes as I battled to reach the seashore
I was lost and afraid  ,sure to sink,  lost my anchor  
Then in wink of a moment everything felt  quiet
I rush hastily  to the deck just to make sure ,it was then i realized
Suddenly the rain stopped, the thunder stop rolling 
The wind was calmed, the sea was silent 
As I gazed across I could see land for sure
It was then I recognized  that even though I go through the storms of life  
Storms  clouds always  pass.

Copyright © NANCY KNIGHT | Year Posted 2012

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Saturated with fish fry smells, Bar-B-Cue smoke,
rodeo dust and sounds of deep water blues,
with teasing frothing lace spread on the shore,
Gulf Coast birth breeze blew winds 
in sails to Caribbean Sea, Blue Mountain
berries, banana walk yam hills,

And coconut rain drops tapping reggae beats
on zinc roof tops on cool verandah nights,
in herb scented air, curling roast breadfruit smoke.

The tarrying there tested the soul,
matured the spirit, fulfilled long tried
attainments of deferred dreams; then
the sea recruited its journeyman again.

Pacific Coast pleaded an adopted native son home.  Home
to new sea shore sands dusted in smog self negation
of urbane destruction and self nullification of community,
caught in the veiled nightmare—lurking in the promise land.

Hence, lessons learned from a gospel tower that never knew a church,
yet gave life-lived sermons that put homiletics to shame, crucifying
pipe-dream pie-in-the-sky nuances on the crosses of realities.

Atlantic waves, undulating like rhythmic buttocks, frothed
a scent of magnetism greater than the tightening hold of gravity,
attracting an uneasy soul, searching spiritual solaced sands; only
to discover that the seas all share the same shored design:  Yes.
Same shared sorrowful savage slave story!  Different sea: same sand.
Now awaits Guinea Coast sunsets and Cape of Good Hope
cul-de-sac early morning sunrises; then on to the sands of heaven.
Regrets are for those who fail to chase their dreams to realities.

Copyright © millard lowe | Year Posted 2017

Details | Prose Poetry |

Healing Touch

There is a certain healing touch
     in ocean waves, the powerful progression of unending undulations, white caps           crashing with determination, dancing with destiny.

There is a certain healing touch
     as the salty strike of ocean air sends serenity and touches all my senses.

There is a certain healing touch
     when the cooling spray from of sea water washes with its’ wetness and soothes           my heated soul.

There is a certain healing touch
     in the silencing and slowing of footsteps as they try to run in sand.

There is a certain healing touch
     in being moved by innocence of children and the sandcastles they command.

Sitting near the surf, I watch the roll of ocean waves, soak up the strike of salty air, am washed by cooling waters, listen for the sound of footsteps in the sand, and am moved by the innocence of children in their play.

{em>PS contest: "Impress me with a small poem"   Nature  © Sue k Green

I feel healing from all five fingers of their touch.

Copyright © Sue k Green | Year Posted 2014

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When you first said you were in love, we were standing at the edge of the sea, just you and me and the sand beneath our feet, staring out over the water to where the sun and sea meet. 
You said you were in love with a girl who had shipwrecks in her smile, and eyes like a storm. The kind of eyes that every once in a while, would clear into the bluest of skies, and you could fly away right into them. 
I couldn't bring myself to look up at you, so I just looked at the water that kisses my toes, because god only knows that a boy like you could never be talking about a girl like me. But then you said my name, and I swear no one will ever be able to say it the same way you did, and I couldn't stop myself from looking at you and smiling just a bit. And you just had to say the worlds that stopped my heart for the second time that day, "there it is, that shipwreck of a smile..." And in that moment in time, everything was just fine. 
But baby, if only you knew what a shipwreck the rest of me was. 
Because I loved you like the ocean loves the shore, a love that makes you constantly come back for more. And you loved me the way the morning sun loves the dew on a leaf, in the brief moment it's there, the sun makes the dew shine and sparkle like something brand new, but all to quickly, it dries up and is gone.
And now I realize that I could never make you stay. 
Because when I showed you more than my shipwreck smile, and you saw shipwreck that was my soul that had sunk to the bottom of the ocean, you knew I was far to broken... And you left me here, with sand in my bed and a hurricane in my head. 
Because I loved you with every drop of water in the sea, but you never took the time to learn how to swim... Instead you crawled out of the surf and walked down the beach, just out of my reach, until I was left alone with my shipwrecks and sand castle home.
So my blue eyes have turned back to gray, and I'm back at the edge of the sea. But this time there is no you, all there is, is me. And now its bittersweet, that I can feel the same sand under my feet as I dive into the waves and swim away to the place where the sun and sea meet. Maybe I'll find you there, at the place where the sun and sea meet.

Copyright © Allie Rosenthal | Year Posted 2015

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sex and the sea

Sex & the Sea 
We do live in a moral time the exchange of money
for some company, a meal and laughter.,
is frown upon, but without these willing women my 
life as a seafarer would have been an impossibility.
There were married seamen who stayed on a ship for 
two years to save money, but they never thought of
the sexual life of their wives. Mind, some of the women
had lovers, and why not? Being married to idiots was
not easy, and they could not write to their husbands
and say: “come home and do me over.” 

Prostitution is bad it is about using women for sexual
gratification, but it is a business if properly seen to 
help many lonely men, who because of are victim and 
not thoughtless oxen smelling a cow in season. 

Copyright © jan oskar hansen | Year Posted 2015

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Crossing Through The Red Sea Undivided

The calm and quiet serenity embracing a string of fine buildings and a hypocritical weather which seems as if a quarrel manifested between the day and the night say it all as we enjoy the romantic stroll. Our aim is highly achieved if this was official, we would demand a certificate but the environment, our smiles, our love and our world are more than enough reward as we warm our souls and take the slow, gentle pace. the red flag was totally absent as we noticed many of them with tails unwag by-passing one, not knowing it is the scumbag began its vile its voice and energy much more than three angry wives on top of their nag. A drastic lag in our steps of royalty as my darling was taken over with gags. Then comes the full rage, attacks and great disdain to us. They were initially five; but now twelve. Creating a strategy by walking zigzag served fruitless and more like a drag as the voices of hell get even closer. making my wife scared as never before. Just one attack , can attract a deadly feast. Turning us into rags tearing us snag after snag and separating our flesh from body like a slag. That one bite, is now seconds closer with the lead intimidator showing its brag but 'the protector' being my tag; I turned swiftly and immediately going downwards and acting to take a weapon. Then the dozen of cowards impersonated Usain Bolt. 'That's my swag!" was the showing but in reality, I embraced my love passionately, thanking God for such a miracle with a skipping heart and a trembling body.

Copyright © Funom Makama | Year Posted 2013

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Soltive pre ordained priest warlike additives initially a Jesus Freak becoming cold 
hearted in the winter. Bane has come with hatred of simple minded people. Sexual 
orientation is nill. Macabration indentation on the quilt. A welcome matt with a towel 
for spills. I have a small fortune tied. Up is not an option now. There is only snow up 
there eventually. The water line is nearer the river then the streaming stream of 
water near me on the highway catching all the melting riverlets as they run away 
from home in WinterBane. Some men still have strength but they abuse it think to 
break down boarded ruins tearing down old barns and cornors of old abandoned 
houses where homeless and poor people might find shelter from the rain. Where will 
they find to dwell. Because of wealth they have a large area to heat in WinterBane 
they have a larger of a structure the more expensive in the WinterBane with sleet 
coming down in Sheets of Ice looked like a solid wall of water hitting me Frost icing 
clothing no thing was DRY ice all over me a few moments after I stepped toe out of 
sheltor walking on the SIDE of the road cant walk on the roadway slipping on the ICE 
stepped offroad walking in the treelined. I found what looked like a Najavo Hogan 
brogaded outside there was clothes hannging on branches a Babylon Garden in the 
snow. While the whole city was whited out at degrees zero. The goose has a liver. 
Oh Pâté the liver rules the Goose is cooked with too many alcholic incumbents while 
the minutes of the meeting Read all old activity reported long ago nothing is new 
under the sun. Nothing there is nothing is there nothing in my past has preparred me 
for my future education has failed me for the alcholic eye was ruined for functioning 
in SOciety degenerate reborne. Nothing smelles worse to a man then sex mixed up 
with tobacco and alchohol how can anyone live as porn objects and still survive the 
toll booth smells like whiskey before three pee em it takes the heart to control it 
takes the lust to want. I feared to die for I was sinnor I feared one day to lay 
underneathe the snow ensheathed but then one day has come to eye EYE Fear No 
Snow EYE Fear No Snow I am a man. The snow no longer bothers me. I am beneath 
it all, My soul is not inside of me. It leaves me when I fall. As I lay here 
silently,wating for the trumpet, It will blow! 
I do not any longer fear the snow. 
Copyright © 2006 charles hice

Copyright © charles hice | Year Posted 2009

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The Sea

To  whom the sea will complain
  his sorrow?
If  the gulls emigrate.

Written by : Hussein Al-Dayani   (Iraqi Poet )  
Translated by :Laith Seher 

Copyright © Laith Seher | Year Posted 2013

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Birth of Thanksgiving

Back in the year 1621...
Began a tradition, for everyone...
It started with fleeing from religious persecution...
As a group from England sought a solution...
They landed in Holland, but to their demise...
Which after a while brought quite a surprise...
Found their children attached to the ways of the Dutch...
And by their standards, considered frivolous and such...
Threating education and morality...
Which was the original reason why they did flee...
They set sail again, all one-hundred and ten...
Young and the old, women and men...
Where they were going, no one knew...
Not even the Captain nor his crew...
On a large wooden ship , they sailed out to sea...
And for sixty-five days, not all did agree...
So after landing, a meeting was held...
The name “Pilgrim “ was chosen, and no one quelled...
Winter was devastating, so many died...
And of the one-hundred and ten , only fifty survived...
On March of 1621...two Indians appeared...
They both spoke English, so no one feared...
Samoset and Squanto taught them trapping, hunting and planting of corn...
So the next years’ winter, they would all be well fed and warm... 
On the fourth Thursday of November, before the snow fell...
The Pilgrims and Indians, or so I hear tell...
Sat down to a feast fit for a king...
On this the first of a “ Thanksgiving “...

Copyright © kj force | Year Posted 2013

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The Sea

The Sea
there are many oceans on the earth
where is the sea
I think today we will study the China Sea
not sure where is that place
are you sure
is it an Ocean
have you ever heard of the Chinese Ocean
I have heard of the China Sea
didnt they make movies
i can look at a mapp would that be cheating
China is a country over seas
overseas not over oceans
that almost proves it to me now
The Great Sea of China
or wait
the Great Wall of China
it is beside the ocean shore
nO it is beside the Sea Shore
that sounds correct
my China Lady lies over the Ocean
MY CHina LAdy lies over the Sea ???????
China has no ocean it has a Sea
Taiwan in the ocean or sea
China must be near the Taiwan Sea
strike this out
Taiwan in the Sea of China
wow this must be it
I did all this without looking at a map
believe it love
The Sea — at China Sea

Copyright © charles hice | Year Posted 2013

Details | Prose Poetry |


I hear the seashells calling, a
Sirens distant song. The foam
it laps before me, on which my 
dreams belong. The driftwood 
of my memories the crashing
waves enslave, and the pebbles
exalt in whispers with the ebb
and flow of life. The suns and 
winds caress her, and moods 
will change her hue, the power
and the beauty will ever fill the
eye. All my life she has pulled
me to lands by guiding star, 
comforted and cajoled me on 
journeys near and far. As I 
stand this beach she beckons, 
she calls my name out loud,
to come and sleep the deep,
her body for my shroud. The
seductress she will always be, 
for men who show her love
and run away to sea.

Copyright © Daniel Cheeseman | Year Posted 2010

Details | Prose Poetry |

Titanic The Unsinkable Ship

What people believed in 1912.
Was a myth in the truth, placed on a shelf.
Was the unthinkable, unsinkable..
The fourty six thousand gross tons of steal.
Would never kneel or break its bow.
The ship could never sink or rust.
Was rumor going round, we all could trust.
The crowd showd up to celebrate.
As the ship was Christened to show its fate.
But The White Star Line was cruising fine.
When it hit a berg, under a darkened sky.
There it lie, with many to cry.
At the bottom of the sea she'll die.
They said the Titanic could never sink.
Their opinion a myth, now she's on the brink.
With fourty six thousand gross tons of steal.
The voyagers finished their final meal.
To the bottom of the ocean they went.
A many to cry, while she made her descent.
The Titanic was a ship in trouble.
But now a myth, and a pile of rubble.
At the bottom's where she made her grave.
A sigh of relief, for the lives they saved.
To the rescue, and on the double.
Titanic was a ship in trouble..
Her maiden voyage, now turn the page.
Thousand of people, in a fit of rage.
The news it read that we all should mourn.
The Titanic's passengers, their lives were torn.
A myth of truth placed in the news.
The unsinkable ship..Would never lose.

Titanic-Poetry by Kim Robin Edwards
Copyright 2009,2014..
ALL rights reserved.. 

Copyright © Kim Robin Edwards | Year Posted 2014

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Journey to Africa as seen by an eight year old

My journey through life has seen so much
far have I traveled and much I have done
seen so many things that most others never do
the rock of Gibraltar, with teems of scary monkeys
traveling out we sailed through the Suez canal 
wondrous mysteries that delighted an eight year old
camels striding along, enormous crocs floating by
the land so close you want to touch it and run on it 
Zanzibar our next port of call, ram shackled boats galore
the heady scents of spices abounds teasing the nostrils
the vivid different colors everywhere flood my senses
on to our destination Dar-es-Salaam harbor most picturesque
a miss mash of ships some luxury most tramp ships or boats
sails of all colors, dark people unloading trunks from the holds 
this was a time taken out of time, a way of life quite relaxed
just think of the things ahead,  the adventures that awaited me

written 08/08/2013

contest    Your Journey

in 1958 the Suez canal was open later it got blocked by sunk ships

Copyright © Shadow Hamilton | Year Posted 2013

Details | Prose Poetry |



In the city,
The sun often wears a veil of grey mourning,
Woven of smog and dust.

In the evening,
The stars retreat from the lights
Of the city far below.

Far from the city, 
I walk the beach, sun hot on my skin.
Waves wash cool and white over my feet.

Seagulls dive and snatch,
The remains of the fisherman’ catch
And the kite glides and falls like a stone to earth.

The sea rolls on and in.
An endless murmur,
Through the days and the nights.

My eyes, accustomed to this light
Of sky, of sand, of dry bush land.
Watch the sails of a lone boat.

And I think of many things, as I walk along this beach.
And as always my thoughts return to you.
You with eyes the colour of the sky.

I wonder where you are in the city
So far away from my world, from your world,
Of sea and sand.

I think of you and the distance in between us.
Distance that as time has passed,
Has grown too far to breach.

I know this, but still I think of you,
As I retrace my footprints,
In the dampness of the sand.

JM  2012

Copyright © Jennifer Magrath | Year Posted 2012

Details | Prose Poetry |

Once Promising Youth

Like you are caught in a highway 
Heavy traffic in a sunny morning 
Waiting and hoping and dreaming
You’ll reach the seashore soon enough 
See the light shimmering on the Sea waves.
Like a person hoping for good news
Dreams give the Sloth hour two wings.

No, not like the feeling of that 
Being surrounded by fellow men
With understanding.

No, no hope, no dream, no nothing.

Rather like being caught in a highway 
Under the will of someone you cannot see
Under the whim of someone you cannot ask
Under the wish of someone who understands
What you don’t understand and that you understand not.
Too many question you ask I see.
Questions makes you bleak-heart

Yes you are Caught in a highway 
Under the scorching sun. 
Shining on the highway  
Highway endless like a tongue of an unknown giant 
Whose wistfulness only makes you move
And may be if He wishes when He wishes
You are signaled to move.

You’ll reach the sea at last may be,
To watch it with your bleak heart.
Only to find the sea that you can
See no more 
Because the dreamless waiting has made you blind
Only darkness mingle with Death of the Sky 
And Sun and Time and You, the Once Promising Youth.

Copyright © Sumona Manzur | Year Posted 2008

Details | Prose Poetry |

The Rising Son

                                   Son of the Sea TrilogyPart2 
                                  The Rising Son/ Dedicated to: The Slauson Village

On hot summer night lovers lay along the beachfront
Caressing each other so gently as the amber coals in the sandpits slowly melt away
The waves rise and tumult with such majestic force and beauty splashing against the shoreline relentlessly
Infinite as time itself and ever constant.
The pulsation of the conga drum permeates every pebble and grain of sand on the beach
The tinkle and the rat-a-tat-tat of empty bottles and discarded tin cans are transformed into precise percussion instruments
The melodic shrills of the magic flute weave it's translucent web encompassing the gritty growls and riffs that emanate from the golden mouth of the improvisational sounding sax...

                                      The Dance Has Begun

Slender black bodies glisten in the soft moonlight...jerking and gyrating in perfect rhythm to the beat of the drum
The sweet aroma of herbs fills the night air and wine flows freely
Emotions are high and love abounds
The music reaches a crescendo and comes to a gradual halt
A long awaited sigh of relief can be heard then solitude follows...
Dawn ushers in the distant light 
Destined to radiate its warmth and shine in the new day of the rising son

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Copyright © Allen Hackett | Year Posted 2013

Details | Prose Poetry |


in my fortress by the sea 
I ponder thoughts washing over me 
under the moon, tide’s ebb and flow 
do I stay or shall I go? 

one by one the answers come 
just enough to keep me numb 
giving what you think I need 
some of the truth will make me bleed 

like driftwood washed upon my beach 
footsteps left, etched very deep 
no wind can me them disappear 
always present, always clear 

I sit in a very tall tower 
looking down on what aspires 
growing like the ivy leaves 
intricate the vine that weaves 

the sun comes up and warms the sand 
in this never never land 
is this love that glows with day? 
why does night bring doubt my way? 

in this fortress by the sea 
I ponder thoughts washing over me 
under the moon, tide’s ebb and flow 
can I stay, or do I go?

Copyright © Jo Bien | Year Posted 2011

Details | Prose Poetry |


I stood in the middle of the ocean's palm and travelled along its' finger lines.
These blue waves have stolen the infinity of sky, reflecting my fate signs.
In my heart there is a blank, as I am left alone struggling with a sea unknown.
If you could show me your eyes, I would place your hopes in stars to find height.
Instead, I am burned in fires shaken, in sweaty dreams that end with the first light.
In other words I search for promises, changing places and opening new doors.
Yet, this sea of rain rushes into my expectations, driving me to the same shores.
And I am wondering if life owes us our prayers, our tears, our sentiments of glory.
If not, then we are condemned to expect a fate, a Spring belated to show a fake story.
When nights exceed the dead ends I set, moon is risen laughing at my mortality.
In the cold breeze I face my humanity, fighting in a battle uneven and unfair.
As time passes through my windows, I betray my existence behind curtains flopped.
Eyes of solitude I can't forget visit me between Heaven's and Hell's Gates blocked.
I set fire to my pain and from the ashes I give birth to a fate, in which you are not in.
The greatest dreams I left behind, a compromise I signed and gained the right of sin.
Uncovered distances, chaos in my heart rhyme
For the losses I won't accept as my fear prime.

Copyright © valeria iliadou | Year Posted 2011

Details | Prose Poetry |

Nature's Fury

Wildly the gale blows over the turbulent ocean
whipping up the waves into towering mountains
that crash down shattering everything in their path
screaming out at the world, hostile and venomous

Nothing in its path stood a chance not from this devil storm 
it raged onwards now a hurricane leaving devastation behind
huge waves rushing inland uprooting all as they past through
swelling back briefly, then thundering on, oblivious to the damage

Huge trees, hundreds of years old lie dying, flooding everywhere
slowly the angry winds abate, becoming gentle like lover's touch
caressing kissing as if to say sorry for all the damage and strife
quiet for a while until once again the seas war dragons re-awake

Setting forth on another battle royal, not a care for what is left behind
just terrible life changing damage as Mother Nature roars out her rage
plundering us and what we hold most dear to gain her  deadly  revenge 
by cutting us down to size using all her fearsome  powers to teach us

No master doth Nature have to tell her nay, futile to try to stop her
she rages on destroying as she passes, no way to harness this goddess 
earthquakes, tremors, volcano's; all these and much more at her command
she will not cease not until we learn to respect her and nurture her planet

Copyright © Shadow Hamilton | Year Posted 2013

Details | Prose Poetry |

Autumn Filigree

The gray haze of autumnal fog drenches the leave-strewn grass. Trance-like, lain within the wet air, like babies breath, the leaves fall. A soft, damp, blanket of gold, filigree, edges the green cloak of the Mother, Her garb lays adorned with a pointed patterns of earthly stars. Warmed so, by the abundance of her children; caressed by the love of the Father, beloved, the Mother yawns.... stirring the leaves, yet again, the leaves arise.

Copyright © Debbie Guzzi | Year Posted 2008