Best Afloat Poems
A cord had been stretched, from our hearts to the moon
across foolish years, to a life far beyond
It coiled around a chair, down the hall, past the door,
that were groomed by the light of a bright afternoon
I was floating on the sea of cold hardwood
Prone on my back, on a lavender rug
Examining the nail of my left-hand thumb
with a phone at my ear, and faith in the unknown
You had aced your exams, now we were making our plans,
only tied to a kiss, by a small ivory phone
With a ring on my finger, that would bind foolish hearts,
that were blinded by love, without worry or fear
Invitations were mailed, a church was on hold
There was a cake made to order, and a world unexplored
You were glued to my ear, I was wrapped by a thread
that tugged on my heart by a long-distance word
The light from the yard was scored by the blinds
but, there on the floor, our world was sublime
I was bound by a cord that tethered all time
To a life yet to live, but together we'd find
I was linked to your voice, by a young foolish heart
While I sailed on a sea to a lavender star
____________________________
Submitted to "My Foolish Heart" contest: Feb-2021
Sponsored by Craig Cornish
_______________________________________
Dragonfly Afloat on the Lake
A dragonfly afloat on the lake
Flaps its wings to keep from drowning.
With its life in the balance, it senses hope
And boards the paddle I nudge into place.
Slowly, I draw the oar out of the water
And watch the dragonfly bask in the sun.
Now recuperated with dried wings,
The insect alights on the boat’s gunnel.
I contemplate the situation, seeking a higher meaning,
Wondering if it understands fate or destiny
And canoe towards the shore for its safety.
Or is it just an instinctive reaction?
That brought us together in this crisis
As it flies away, leaving me with a memory.
Freezing water.
Many hours.
Prayer, hymns, and laughter.
Gray fins begin circling our group.
Day Three There are thirteen of us now.
Twenty-six numb legs stop moving.
Hymn singing stops.
Who will be next? I hold my breath.
Goliath is taken.
Pulled away from the circle.
His girlfriend screams.
Goliath makes no sound. Gives me a sad nod.
I watch in morbid curiousness
As he is pulled under the water hard.
The water fills with vast amount of red liquid.
Frenzied sharks swim in for their taste of the kill.
The rest of us hold our breaths.
The third day of our capsized non-rescue.
The ocean is deep. Eight others had already been taken.
Which is easier – to be taken or to watch those taken?
The sharks swim around us one more time.
We who are left give praise for another hour
Of life, each minute a reminder of how quickly
We are taken. Tears in our eyes. Who will tell our tale?
In quest to find respite and solitude
spiritual food
it's to the sea I owe my gratitude
Only in my dreams
while adrift under starlight and moonbeams
I'm free of life's schemes
In slumber I sail upon the vast sea
peace prevails in me
afloat in absolute serenity
My burdens at rest
rhythmic waves gently lull me in their nest
comfort in my breast
I am protected as Neptune's daughter
on tranquil water
with no thought of being life's poor martyr
Oh, how much I yearn
to stay in the swells as long as they churn
to shore ne'er return
I have enlightenment and harmony
the way life should be
quite content in my placid times at sea
Quiet realm of calm
my heart fears no threat of distress or qualm
I am free from harm
I let go of the past without a care
free from all despair
cleansed my soul and to God I lay it bare
_______________________________________________________________
Written while listening to "Angel of Hope" by Omar Akram
~https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mXNaxGj6A5A
These monorhyming verses were written in the form of syllable count beginning with 10-5-10 and alternating with 5-10-5. I have no idea if this is a sanctioned form, but it is the way I chose to present it.
February 3rd, 2016 ~ Solitary Moments ~ Mystic Rose
AUDIBLE HORRIBLE
hearing paddling away
think silence bouquet
PALETTE TRAGIC
taste creel caught
meals easier bought
EMOTIONAL REVERSAL
warship bombards feelings
cheaper dental drillings
OLFACTORY REFRACTORY
smell setting sail
restroom odors bail
VISUAL PITIFUL
eyesight in lifeboat
memorize your remote
LOGIC FROLIC
mind barge bound
serenity island found
... CayCay
October 19, 2018
(written for contest)
he moves with the gold, talks to the rocks
his voice is a river, he’s looking at her;
she flows through the fire, says she is water
her eyelids are sore, from looking at him as they
blink, again; again she and he
are holding back tears as they fall, fall.. fall waterfall
BITE SIZE POEM no26 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Line Gauthier
When doors close, there's more to it than denying you access to what’s inside. We often think that what’s inside is something we cannot live without.
So we feel disappointed, disillusioned, dispossessed, disabled, depressed.
Sometimes, we are overwhelmed, feeling shut out, as if no other doors exist.
Often, it takes a little time, the kind that heals all wounds, as new doors open.
Coveted things inside the closed door loses their appeal as we were healed.
We discovered our life’s purpose down the hall or across the street;
Our phone rang with a new opportunity, as we sat for a bite to eat.
Some doors are meant to be shut, because there is nothing for us inside.
At first, it’s painful to the face; but later we realize our life has meaning. So we lift our heads with that same face, and smiling we say, “Thank you”.
“Thank you”, because often, only ‘doors in your face experiences’ can bring epiphany.
A job change left me away from my family, living on a borrowed 50 foot boat.
One stormy El Nino night, I rocked and rolled; by God’s grace I stayed afloat.
Life’s not always a treat, nor is it a retreat on a sunny beach; but life will always reach out its hands, offering to teach.
03222016 PS Contest, When A Door Closes, by Broken Wings
My mind is afloat,
In a transparent sea, that
Is wrapped in Chaos
niger lost a night's rest
for her children
swept by the flood
of her furious night
& as she wept amadioha
brought the victims
afloat on the river.
Those days are gone, set
afloat upon waves of air-
that in which we dreamed, for we
were dreamers...adrift in the water
that took us to wherever
the currents flowed-
into weedy patches-
weedy and twining like our minds,
like ivy vines on cobblestone walls,
always reaching and climbing
further into the clouds, swirling like
the streams we floated down.
But our youth is lost, as are the
summer days which grew cool,
stolen by the autumn breeze.
Oh,we still have those scenes,
leave-takings into yesteryear,
drifting along on those lazy, black tubes-
sunning upon the dam 'til
our skin baked a golden brown.
Those staticky transistors were never
fine-tuned, but the songs we knew
word for word, and the notes flew
high, swallowed by the blackbirds
gliding in the warm summer sky.
We walked a sash of dusty road,
with Duke dashing ahead, sniffing
grass and daffodils, on point for squirrels
and such, as he was the littoral keeper.
Now the pup has aged, and he hurts
as he circles his spot to lie, but nothing
has changed, really- except our bodies...
for our eyes still see ourselves as youth
reaching toward that summer sky.
Nothing but am innocent venture
into the open sea.
Swimming around, enjoying new friends
Feeling fearless and free.
Out of the darkness you
invade on my space
with no clear explanation.
Are you here to examine me
I need some translation.
Your larger than I so I need
to understand your need to attack.
IF you spoke my language
I speak peacefully right back.
I"ll just hover over here
Your vastness brings me fear.
Our moveable house painted castle and rose,not a life we would have chose.Eighteen fifties harsh and mean,coal cargo so nothing stays clean.Doff your cap,touch your forelock every two mile at the gatekeeper's lock.
Clothes dry on a washing line strung,home for a time whilst the toddlers were young.As their number increased and grew ,places to sleep all too few.Family life impossibly hard so back we went to a tied cottage in Anchorage yard.
Set a sail the sea of blue for what
I know not why a cleansing maybe
Of my soul to cross the oceans wide
A Myriad of senses and visions ultrusive
Meaningless yet overpowering to the eye
And I the captain of this illusion of vital
Natural repetition wave after wave
A castaway of my own desire yet free
Cupped by the waters so wide and deep
At times cradling me to a wondrous sleep
Others thrashing my whole being
As if a hell bent force to leave me
Smashed upon a rock body and boat
A helpless lifeless molded heap
And who would know the gulls
First at the scene the crabs ah yes
Scavengers and then the waves
Would wash away the rest
Shake my head uncluttered the mind
This journey is not ready to end
Dolphins surround my frail vessel
As we sail into the sun such
Happy mammals of the blue sea
The dog barks I open my eyes
Someone’s knocking at the door
No more time to dream wake up
Get on with life’s daily chores
What Punctuation Marks
————————————————————————
(Dedicated to our Pens)
Commencing with colons saying,
“Look at what follows me”:
Commas go with the need to breathe,
Adding, or between, as the case may be.
Semicolons help related thoughts,
and lists of a length more supreme,
Like running on; followed; listed;
everything seen; or
(I like adding) dreamed.
Parenthesizes surround thoughts inserted
By the narrator not to digress, but
(editors note) expand
the writing’s dimension.
Periods mark ends, like a day to bed,
Except when set in threes, known as
the ellipses, which can indicate
A denouement that might be taken
On ad infinitum, like clouds afloat…
Maybe to a related or distant expression
— perhaps a sibling theme — as perceived;
Maybe ending with an exclamation point,
Announcing an extreme point reached!
Yet, always remaining…Chances approach
For asking questions (Do you see?)
Set forth to ponder by question marks.
Plus, then, dashes will set off —inserted —
To help define.
Punctuation, also, in its own way speaks
(perhaps more than we realize) to lead
Readers on to receive
The thought trains, flights, leaps,
and meaningful leads.
—————-
——————————————————————————————
(c) sally young Eslinger 12/25/21
In admiration for Cindy Sostchmen,
who posts great grammar lessons on FB, her pg. every Monday.
WICKED AFLOAT
He asails the Irish dawn-- avidly tore a hole in yellows
She in dreams --awaits his eyes blue-cast amidst the ice fog-- eagerly searches
Other maddened icebound maidens awaited longships and thrilling iron fellows
Weary of ice and snow -- encompassing thrumming asunder hearts --aborn to escape
Dragonheads emerge through ice clouds-- elate fragile idling maidens awake
Ships escort Thor's exhilerating beckoned iron hammered army