Now my tendrilled soul,
Has found its pergola-- Christ--
To wind its way up....
Copyright © EMMANUEL SAMSON | Year Posted 2007
I bent over to touch my toes
and the ground tore open like a backbone.
I tried to feed myself the sky;
to splice my tearducts into the universe
so that, when the pavement cried, it would mean something to me.
My fingernails punctured that slimy membrane
congealed with stars,
and I brought a slice of it to my lips,
hot and slippery like a jellyfish.
Peach juice, chalky-sweet, flowed,
fleshy particles snagged in my teeth,
and the colors erupted within my mouth.
Synthesia took over my lungs.
The hollows between my knuckles flooded with synovia
and all the ectoplasm threatened to separate from my cells
with a sound like thunder.
Diphthong tasted rusty like leukoplakia as it tiptoed across my tongue.
Tomorrow rose like the skeletons of trees,
groping for a feeling similar to catharsis
[catharsis tender as the broken wings of doves,
crunching underfoot like shattered glass.]
The clouds opened their thunderous maws
- teeth snicker-snacking, lamplight-eyes flaming the color of E#'s -
and consumed me.
I felt my skin turn to something other than skin:
thick and rough with scales,
my fingerprints melting into something waxen, smooth and opaque,
like pomegranate kisses on coffee mugs.
A feeling ignited deep in my structure;
cedillas blossoming like lilies from my lips,
fragmented sentences stretching taut as guitar strings
between my thumb and forefingers.
A flutter gentle and demonic as Calcifer erupted from my system
- splattering hot and frothing into my hand -
and fluid rushed in.
I dared to taste oblivion,
and the sky swallowed me.
My lungs failed to be lungs.
They flooded with caustic matter,
and I coughed up reflections sharp as fiberglass;
fighting with organs phthisical and sore.
I struggled to find a way to describe it:
the feeling of consuming something greater than yourself,
of opening your eyes and tasting the sound of rain.
It was like swimming,
but inside out.
I bent over to touch my toes,
and my spine tore open;
the loose laces unraveling, veterbrae poking out
like the tines of forks.
I tried to contort myself into the beginning,
but I only found where I end.
Copyright © Elizabeth Nathaniel | Year Posted 2012
Before spring came, in late February
to the blooming and jolly hills
I ran, breathing heavily and frantically,
touching the perfumed blossoms
of a solitary, old cherry tree;
and underneath it I sat writing poetry
that hadn't a perfect rhyme and beat!
Weren't my skills marred by imperfections?
Canaries and red-breasted robins
flew down and rested on my outstretched legs;
perusing my lines to spot their names,
and when they did, they flapped their wings in gladness!
I could have imagined their joyful words,.
if only they had acquired the gift of speech,
and deeper in their thoughts I would have reached:
to dispel the myth that they had no feelings...
After my short poem was completed,
I reached for my harmonica to play my favorite classic tune;
and being surprised by the paleness of the fading moon,
I dedicated that happy melody to her not to let her despair:
by waving my hand to make her farewell less sad, while I whispered,
" Silent moon, eternal companion of every poet,
what's beyond the realm of this universe?...
Tell us more of those invisible suns and planets! "
Before spring came to the dormant valley,
the mountains' peaks allowed the sun to melt their snows,
to create gushing torrents to feed its water to the dry and cracked soil,
which needed rain instead of harmful frost;
and I drank the freshest water and washed my sweaty face,
while fighting off the bees' stubborn rivalry!
That spring has come again to dress herself with incredible splendor,
and this discontent and wishful heart desires nothing more than being there!
My theme is: Happiness In Childhood
Copyright © Andrew Crisci | Year Posted 2009
Who be th' stenchin' verminous Horsman
what hollers t' th' seafarin' oarsmen
when th' mind's a-fog
where we fest th' grog
why be d'mandin' pennin's of bay men
***All errors are intentional and used merely to facilitate pirate speak.
Copyright © delysia hendricks | Year Posted 2012
Rowing from sunken hell
Back to forgotten lands
Legs unready for earth
Slamming genius poetic art
So go tiny minds
Lost in central thought
Unaware of truth's reality
Making love to mirror
Copyright © 2014 Robert William Gruhn - All Rights Reserved
"A poem to me is the essence of any thought,
Being built from its foundation into tower scraping sky.
It can fly like no other bird to places never seen,
Even spaceships can only dream of taking its place."
© 2014 Robert William Gruhn
Copyright © Robert Gruhn | Year Posted 2014
Snapping and cracking and whipping we sail.
Sneaking and creaking and sinking t' hell.
Black flies our banner, black as our souls,
Black as a storm dashing ships on the shoals!
Fear us and flee us, yea, run if ye can.
Or face us and fight us down t' the last man.
Black flies our banner, blacker than coal,
Black as death's cowl, we'll swallow ye whole!
Blasting and bursting and bombing we fire.
Bleeding and weeping and wailing yer dire.
Black flies our banner, and Roger so jolly
Shall be fer yer tombstone, a mark o' yer folly!
Yea, we own the water, the wind and the waves.
These oceans t' ye shall be watery graves.
Black flies our banner, black as our souls,
We are the storm dashing ships on the shoals!
Copyright © The Grahamburglar | Year Posted 2015
I do not know?
My Wishes are Simple
My wishes are simple,
my desires few,
to gaze upon an ocean,
and marvel at a solitary drop of dew.
My wishes are simple,
my dreams not too grand,
to feel the waves teasing my tired feet,
with no footprints left in the cool, wet sand.
My wishes are simple,
my thoughts serenely gentle, calm,
my heart resting beneath a swaying palm,
healing my being, caressed by nature's soothing balm.
Copyright © Scribbler Of Verses | Year Posted 2013
Mourn my loss of innocence; the Queen of
Love, and I her prince. Dance, we dance, all
the way to Heaven- born of grief, and the
things I have written...And dare I ask, or
merely inquire, on who doth Love me, and who
is a liar? Just say my name, old curse of
shame, cloaked in dark, and murky colors
No skies to fly, no seas to sail, no land on
which to keep my Lovers
All too silent, this lonely night;
No choice to choose, no grounds to fight
These pleading words, and Fools in herds-
marching to the Ends of the Earth
People I loath, and you were told: I do wish
Eve hadn't given birth...
Copyright © Just That Archaic Poet | Year Posted 2013
the man who lied to me knew
that immortality is the best kind of lie
that pain is closer to the soul than happiness
secrets known only by the old watchmakers
and the erudite antiquarians
men who lie read every book with their fingers
they know that leaves are the plaits of virgins
unwounded with bloody hands on the cross
and letters are the thorns within the heart of every Laura
betrothed for ever nevermore a wife
only the sea is for the whales’ fishermen
old whore with hair on her chin
the only true men who learn
the salty taste of death
Copyright © Cristina M Moldoveanu | Year Posted 2014
Not this month.
*it is difficult to find words to rhyme with 'month.'
Copyright © John Smith | Year Posted 2011
Your eyes-The open sea
Each gaze, a wave, engulfing me
Caught in the current-Strong and fast
Drowning in moments-Deep and vast
I grow less certain, everyday
If I will be able, to find my way
Back to shore
Copyright © Alexandra Steele | Year Posted 2015
Chilly air of night
A very sad poetic write….
Ocean foam all white
Copyright © Robb A. Kopp | Year Posted 2010
The Ocean breeze soothes me.
The sound of waves relaxes me.
Soft sand between my toes,
collecting unique driftwood to make crafts,
beachcombing is my "quiet place".
You can't live on an island and not love the water.
I can sit and watch boats sailing by
or watch eagles soaring in the sky.
The beach is where I go to sooth my soul
and find my inspiration.
~~~~ The Beach at Eby Rd.~~~~
(my quiet place)
At the end of the road, I park,
leaving my shoes behind.
I walk along the sandy beach.
All troubles leave my mind.
I breathe in the sweet ocean air,
raise my face to the sun.
Inspiration flows through my veins.
Another poem's begun.
for Sara Kendrick's contest
"My Quiet Place"
Copyright © Francine Roberts | Year Posted 2012
Times impenetrability halts me choosing how to articulate
The outlook winter that blows though my dark hair
My art and writing won’t terminate their daily debate
For writting is drifting my mind so the crayon I must adhere
Art I stand under with writing, for crafts pushes me to its side
A green smog corrupts the minds forcing to cut the link
To add drawing to my expressions though I can’t abide
For I have no eyes of the mind to express it in sight than in ink
Copyright © Aurielle Little | Year Posted 2006
Shades of color bounce within
Singing their hues dancing in place
Vivid lines colored outside
Rules broken with empty space
A midnights dream heard and seen
Gleaming from the twinkle of a eye
Wings touched flown and plucked
Gliding like a bird up in the sky
Wishes from pennies thrown into tears
The reservoir over flowing with pigments of pain
Drowning from the shadows
The flood paints the day
Words speak volumes of silence hidden
Their sounds blind to what they see
Mirrors of nouns and verbs
Their meaning and secrets lost at sea
Emotions ruled by laws of language
Spelled in boxes of glass
Melted from sands inside
That voices strangle to grasp
Copyright © Justin Robbins | Year Posted 2011
"Set To Sea"
No more rain that taste like tears...
Took my sorrows that I buried in years...
Placed them in a bottle and sent them to sea...
Hoping the tide will carry them far away from me...
Maybe to an island where other bottles hold the same..
A place where pain and sorrow is never a game...
Now the rain is just a cool reminder of a different time...
A refreshing drop of water that tastes only of happy signs.
So let it rain, I will lay under it and let it awake and inspire me...
So I can write and play and never dread the rain and thank the sea...
A little more insight to how I love and how I blow off steam....
I play with words and love others to read and follow my dreams...
by Michael J Falotico
Copyright © Michael J. Falotico | Year Posted 2010
sail ship of lofted line
down the keelway rolling fine
splashing birth to berth
Copyright © Donald Meikle | Year Posted 2006
The future lies unwritten on
the blankest, blankest page.
I’m born today and, safe to say,
on track to boundless age.
At anchor in a harbor on
the leeward side of time,
engaged in making love to verse,
in making beauty rhyme--
the heart has placed before the eyes
what Gods of hope have borne,
a well of sweet serenity--
and love like summer morn.
Copyright © Dean Neighbors | Year Posted 2011
The Tidal Wave
I saw a tidal wave come in,
Raging winds and fierce water
Took the houses, cars, trees,
Street signs, park benches,
Pictures of loved ones
(Poor baby Louie, 3 years old washed away)
And along with all the power
It tore my heart out of my cage
And swept it out to the
And the great white sharks
Have their way with my heart.
Now bleeding and dying,
Pain follows me,
And I close my eyes,
And wish it all to be done.
Pray for me, I want pain no more.
See tears fall from the corners of my eyes,
As I breathe in and feel no heartbeat.
And they all look at me,
Faces of nomads and they snicker
I hang my head and cry tears,
But the tears were washed
Away in the tidal wave,
So I sit there,
And I sleep the night away.
Copyright © Chris Boskovski | Year Posted 2013
The Mighty Sea Was Split
Stillness- long dark, a mark on every door
Night last moan a cry for the day.
Lamentations scream- curses by the score
Dark angel had its vengeful way.
Evil rests in place, sadness graces each face
arrogant hearts oppressed and ruled.
None could dare love enough for saving grace
even their dark host was fooled.
Pharaoh's hot blood flowed, chilled to the bone
slaves , beasts as toys were used.
Where spirit and soft flesh set to shatter stone
mere ants were beat and abused.
Dark host was very soon to meet the split sea
chasing ants that raced away.
Therein crushed with no safe place to flee
his hatred reaped its just pay.
Note- Oldest poem I have that survived to date.
I was 16 years old when I wrote this. No memory
of why, maybe a school assignment.
Copyright © Robert Lindley | Year Posted 2015
she whispered from afar
The wind took words away
and scattered them
along the beach
where lovers used to play
I chased the syllables and nouns
I gathered up the thoughts
but currents in the water found
the letters I had caught
I still can't understand or hear
the bubbles that she blew,
landing lightly on the waves
a surface love so new.
I sank beneath the waters
a deeper love to find,
the heavy words like loyalty
and truth were on my line,
but I found only adverbs
Of when and why and how
I left my love note at the shore ,
who needs an old sea cow?
Copyright © Johnette Loefgren | Year Posted 2006
hear the rattle of the clapper rail
buffer of strong seas
grassy refuge of the great egret
Copyright © Patricia Sawyer | Year Posted 2010
The murky rolling waves subject
to the whims of the February's wind,
far above the secluded lighthouse;
the roaming aircrafts vanish through thick clouds,
leaving behind a trail of hazardous vapors...
but the geese and seagulls can't continue their existence!
And still the sea offers them its promise,
a distant shore untouched by man...
by his greedy ways and incompassion,
causing the extinction of many species;
my reflection is based on fact :
we can't survive without them!
The stylish wild birds engage,
as if striken by a sudden rage,
in their frantic, daily dance over the marina,
as I listen the melancholic lyrics of " Nessun Dorma "...
the exquisite area of Puccini,
which comes alive through the extraordinary voice of Bocelli!
At four the fog thickens and shrouds the shoreline,
the brass lampposts light up with reluctance...
to shy away the presence of any ghost;
I, in transitive joy, hide my treasure beneath the tides,
hoping someone will find it and remember my work...
long after my thoughts will be no longer alive!
Copyright © Andrew Crisci | Year Posted 2008
Just a Poet at sea...
A voyage across waters where I can be free...
I sit with my feet up writing of the views...
Always knowing that my poetry will make small news...
The pages turn as I watch parents and children play...
I scribe tales of lovers and dreamers who set sail that day...
As the darkness filled the night only a quiet sky set a tone...
The moon is my light to scribble as I watch all alone...
The shaking of my pen as my paper is dusted in snow...
Then screams of horror as water pours at my feet with no where to go...
I clench my book of tales and run to a point where I can be...
And there I float as this world is eaten by the sea...
As silence and cries drift fast asleep...
I close my eyes and die with only my poetry to keep...
written for DreamWeavers
by Michael J Falotico
Copyright © Michael J. Falotico | Year Posted 2012
Walking in the surf I'm lost in wonder
Secrets veiled in shades of green and blue
If only I could see below the surface
Mysteries perhaps the mermaids knew....
On the ocean waves a seabird rests
In one with the wind and the sea
Bobbing about in the rhythm of life
As free as only a bird can be....
For me, no better place for writing
My muse comes and goes with the tide
Enchanted ,dreams soar with birds
Here in this place, for this time, I abide....
Copyright © Barbara Gorelick | Year Posted 2012
THE DARKEN SEA OF DREAMS
I had seen many things in darken dream
that would make anyone scream
Where the words love is always in vain
that makes the heart feel sorrow
like there wasn't going to be a tomorrow
where the body weeps and bleeds
where the pains cut deep
while a storm is bowing down
passion flowers of rain
that keeps the mind tangled
in the web of its darkness
where the old ship sails upon the Darken Sea
But tonight I see the billions of stars shine
like little dimaions of tears poured out
into the night sky
where memories of the past has been written
where the days are long
but the night seems so much longer
where true love is always forbiden
But words mean so much to me
when it comes to my own writers mind
is stronger than the winter storms
where pages of my life is being written
in my own blood stain ink
that cut deep within my soul
But when I do write out what it is I bleed
I set my spirit on easy
I speak about the quiet sounds
that seem to be always around
Come, listen to the ancient wind blow
But too so many the sound don't mean a thing
Oh, but it does for me
a perfect place to think and sleep
I see so many thing while I sail the sea
The late velvet jewels moon shines like a dream
from every coast to every host of dreamers love
I write my own heart that makes songs
for all to read and sing all about me
I write stories and poems
late into the night where my mind
hunts the words that flow of me
where the ink bleeds deep upon paper
where it is my feet hasn't yet touched the ground
But, the ancient sounds of winter carries me
far away into a deeper dream
the waves are on high
that carries my emotions to pour out like rain
if one ever was to listen to that old ancient wind
they would hear me weep over and over again
but I do try hard to give strong details
about what it is I see in darken dreams
but things are never what they seem to be
The image is like a shadow of ghost
that keeps me on my feet
when it comes to those darken dreams
that makes me scream and bleed
where secret are made to keep
where it is my heart bleeds
upon on paper my mind pours in ink
words that roll like the waves of the sea
it is awful and very deep what life has done to me
the wear and tear upon my heart and mind
a place that is always so cold
a place where I dream my dreams
and I feel so empty and alone .
Poetic Judy Emery
Copyright © Judy Emery | Year Posted 2017
DARK KINGDOM BY THE LOSS SEA
It was a cold winters night of long ago
where Dark Angel tries so hard to take my soul
in a dark kingdom by the loss sea
that makes my mind scream to be free,
This evil king has a name
But I know better than to say
I live and I learn to keep my silence
but I live by ancient thoughts
where I make strong plots
I had always heard it is better to love
than never be loved
But that was so many years ago
I was a child back then
Dark Angel worked so very hard to possess my life,
he was never nice, he loves to make me cry
this is my reason in all seasons of long ago
I kept the knowledge of the light
that gives me so much sight
to do what is right in my life
I can still feel that cold night chill
where the wind blew out from ancient dark clouds
where the pains of time play games on my mind
where want and envy is all around me,
where the wind keeps crying to me while I sleep
the cold ancient wind blew throw out the night
while Dark Angel gives me fright for my life
he has an evil chilling look in his abyss eyes
like he is ready to kill another soul tonight
Oh, how that makes me cry another time
I could hear the demons crying out from under the sea,
ready to disseve ,
The velvite moon never beam so bright
like it has tonight in darken dreams
the stars are dancing about
and that is when I heard a evil shought
coming from the lost sea
I could feel all hateful eyes on me tonight
the night tides are on high
I lie down where I lay my head for rest
I try so hard to do my best to never say a thing
by the sea is the sounds of many things
like the wind that chilled my skin
where Dark Angel is making more sins,
When I was a child , I dreamed wild
But that was so long ago
where Dark Angel was trying so hard to take my soul.
Poetic Judy Emery
Copyright © Judy Emery | Year Posted 2017
The sun’s devouring rays
Reveals an astounding sensation against the marvelous universe
It caresses the earth with warm hugs and gives life to the motionless gaze
Its auras are above nature’s designating exteriors
Its swaying beauty is beyond Earth’s inhabitants, deserving my praise
It treasures the sky with joyousness and forms swarms of jeering birds
The sighs of the wind attracts clamoring herds
The sun’s appalling flames
Unshackles a zealous tune that reveals the Earth’s accord
It embraces the atmosphere with remarkable claims
Unraveling my curiosity; my ears are pleading to hear more, so I go forward!
It prizes the ocean with eagerness and forms swarms of screeching seagulls
The strength of the waves draws in scorching souls
The sun's unattainable rays
Motivate life to trail on till its duty is done
Its auras seep through the whirling sky and strays
Embracing ambitious love like a father and son
Copyright © JW Earnings | Year Posted 2012
I sung to the sea
in so many dreams
but its all the same to me,
I cried and cried day and night
while the old moon looked down on me,
while my tears had fallen deep into the sea
they looked like jewels of history
from all the pains I held deep within
lips of words that cut do deep
that made my heart bleed out into the sea
the sea became a friend just like the autumn winds,
dreams that taken me back to the past
oh, hear comes the pain bring down the rain
those memories are cutting at me
my mind could see
the eyes of he looking back at me
while my tears started to fall like autumn leaves
the sea made them all into tears of jewels of me.
Poetic Judy Emery (c)
Copyright © Judy Emery | Year Posted 2016
I do not know?
A thousand times I've made myself
Into an interprative lie
A thousand times, a million words
That never will quite die
But in the truth, so continent
Is nothing that cannot be bent
Within these words, this plenitude
Is nothing of an origin
Within these lies, one bit of truth
Is only found within a facet of interpretation
And so we feel we know each other
Through the words we read, twice writ
But in all words, so many meanings
Kill all hope of understanding it
One word, one touch of mastery
Finds greatness only in what's seen
By those who are quite predisposed
To look for life in words transposed
Upon a page, so blank, so bare
That all the soul must still be there
Within that spot of black, inside the space
Surrounded by its like. There's left no trace
Of individuality within the frothing, dying sea of words once writ, twice faded, lost inside a sea of meaning, tost upon the shore of all that's seen by those who know what their own might-have-beens could mean to one who's never tried to understand, nor dared to try the hand of fate against a raging sea that took the form of fractured metaphor.
The soul seeps through.
Copyright © Natsirt Nav Neram | Year Posted 2005