SPRING BEACHING
Wet and dry sands pleased,
frothing waves compensating
spring's sweet sunshine shores:-
Global warming is causing climate change:
while ice sheets at the poles are melting fast;
as oceans and deserts increase their range.
Whales and porpoises are beaching, so strange,
nearing extinction, they're among the last:
global warming is causing climate change.
Folks are acting like a dog with the mange,
scratching out a living, lost to the past;
as oceans and deserts increase their range.
Tomorrow buys today; that's the exchange:
greed pushes progress, with few questions asked:
global warming is causing climate change.
Though over time, theories interchange:
the amount of damage is far too vast:
as oceans and deserts increase their range.
We've lost all hope that time will rearrange
these unscheduled changes: the die's been cast.
Global warming is causing climate change
as oceans and deserts increase their range.
Earth talks without speech or words
Around the globe its message can be heard
Wildfires ravaging from Sydney to California
Massive floods from China to Oceania
Drought in Mauritania
Whales beaching in Tasmania
The starlit night proclaims the loom
Where can we hide from the doom
Neither in the sea nor in the cave
Neither in the dark nor in the grave
There is no place
My sinking feet feel the brush of sand below warm salty foam
as water's flowing rush retreats with sounds of many tumbled stones.
Sand clouds churn by water's turn and ankles wrap in sea grass tangles.
Drowned black beetle blows slowly by, beyond each beaching wave.
As sun rays warm my neck and back, my shadow comes and goes
where sand is flat, seen beneath the water's calm between waves' to and fro.
A single line of cotton clouds drips like a watercolour wash,
a few cold drops prick sun-warmed skin, small bright meteors holding sun within,
flung passing from bright sky.
These thousand tiny fireballs fall, flashing past my eyes,
and extinguish as they meet the sea, while playing children shriek surprise
at sunshine's passing shower.
Just a moment 24/07/2020
Trump Has Been In White House Staying
Looks like all the hens have been laying;
Children in a cold yard could be playing;
So still preaching;
Mira Lago beaching;
Trump is in White House there staying.
James Thesarious Hilarious Horn
Retired Veteran
RiverSea Plantation
Bolivia, NC
Soaking peace.
Waves,beaching themselves on the shore,
Palms wafting in the silent breeze,
A golden orb slowly sinking on the horizon,
Warmth caressing a body in need of rest,
The soft rippling of those fading waves,
The gentle swish of those lazy palms,
Making eyes feel drowsy and leaden,
Relaxation at the end of the day.
Soaking peace.
© Dave Timperley 29/01/2017
beaching…
the rhythmic waves
frothing to and from
carry middle passage echoes
of journeying odysseys
the setting sun severs
the umbilical link
between motherland
and her children in diaspora
reflecting grains of sand
catch crystallizing tears
of memories of faded shores
the bleeding breeze blows
sea seasoned whispers
flowing from lost voices
from sea to shining sea
we’ve been anchored
chained and auctioned
never can slavery be
a metaphor for memory
as waves dissipate
at the shores of time
no matter what beaches
we roam
the shores still sing songs
stealing home.
the rhythmic waves
frothing to and fro
carry Middle Passage echoes
of journeying odysseys
the setting sun severs
the umbilical link
between Motherland
and her children in diaspora
reflecting grains of sand
catch crystalizing tears
of memories of faded shores
the bleeding breeze blows
sea seasoned whispers
flowing from lost voices
from sea to shining sea
we’ve been anchored
chained and auctioned
never can slavery be
a metaphor for memory
as waves dissipate
at the shores of time
no matter what beaches
we roam
the shores still sing songs
stealing home.
The leaves are dead
The birds are dying
Fish are lying
Trying to catch their breaths
On the shores of the world
On unknown beaches
Deaf dolphins and whales
Gasp in polluted waters
Beaching themselves trying to live
Land creatures are having their problems too
People and animals are dying every day
Thank you fake progress
Polluting corporations deny climate change
though they continue to pollute the air and water
Impervious to peoples health
Can you hear life on this planet screaming in despair?
Big business and their shills repudiate apocalyptic signs
Killing all hope that living things in the future will survive
They hoard their ill gotten gains in secret accounts
Hoping to outlive the catastrophe and chaos they have wrought.
Do you hear the silence of the dead?
We are all of us crazy…
Mad in passions like a mystic forest
Where flowers swat away at bees
And trees refuse to grow past crippled bushes
With fields of roses painting themselves black
And streams beaching misplaced whales
All the while fish seek to prance along deer,
All mad, in this mystic forest,
Where fish can breathe aground
And a rose need not fumble with a brush
In a forest now harmonious in discourse
And so we are all of us crazy
From those of us in a sordid love affair with gravity
Plummeting fatal depths on bungee cords
To those of us who live life like mutes
Afraid to share
Yet spill their hearts on paper, privy to the world
While others they laugh at tragedy,
And see black where there is white
And all of us are afraid of words
Handled swords, that we chose to grasp by the point
And are we crazy to act out of place
In a forest that thrives on ill-fitting puzzles
Is it sane for the fish that has lungs to live beneath the waves?
Is it crazy to be yourself
And not an imposter?
been pretty bad people
burst pipes belching putrid
burgundy petrol
being perfect bleeding puddle
Big People bringing
poverty
bleating pelicans
barges paddling
bereaving patriots
bludgeoning prosperity
beaching promises
burdening posterity
breaking premises
but progressive
bitter Promethean
broken president
believing politics
bereft policies
brokers power
bringing plundering
barons power
bigger profits
bestial power
Pebbles tumble,
to the shore,
my thoughts tumble,
my heart,
sore
My thoughts,
my very core,
are like driftwood,
beaching gently on the shore
Thes new things,
what's it all for?
Rush of noisy white surf,
to the shore
Thoughts churn,
how things turn!
Things I could
Things I should,
driftwood,
to the shore
White water on high tide,
my thoughts,feelings,
this driftwood i ride
Drifting to the shore,
it has purpose,
for the things you see
are not a curse
for what can be.
Live the day
before it is taken away
This pebbly beach,
the values it can teach.
The driftwood
to the shore,
brings it to the fore
This blue sky burns me deep,
inwards I weep,
for I stumble
to find,
the words of a kind,
to make me humble
For the sea
in it's tidal war,
claims my heart sore.
This driftwood
and the thoughts held at bay
washed away,
as it should
For I start a new day
with new driftwood.......
to the shore
Pebbles tumble,
to the shore,
my thoughts tumble,
my heart,
sore
My thoughts,
my very core,
are like driftwood,
beaching gently on the shore
Thes new things,
what's it all for?
Rush of noisy white surf,
to the shore
Thoughts churn,
how things turn!
Things I could
Things I should,
driftwood,
to the shore
White water on high tide,
my thoughts,feelings,
this driftwood i ride
Drifting to the shore,
it has purpose,
for the things you see
are not a curse
for what can be.
Live the day
before it is taken away
This pebbly beach,
the values it can teach.
The driftwood
to the shore,
brings it to the fore
This blue sky burns me deep,
inwards I weep,
for I stumble
to find,
the words of a kind,
to make me humble
For the sea
in it's tidal war,
claims my heart sore.
This driftwood
and the thoughts held at bay
washed away,
as it should
For I start a new day
with new driftwood.......
to the shore
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