In the cool shade of poetry
I would approach the old tree
That in a lively blossom
Some of which, deep red and blue
Would cast shadow on my rice and bread
Would shake my chromosome, a little,
In my pages so brittle now
The fragrance and forms I would pick up
Yes, of those flowers
Of the intellectual hours
And gather them
I mean the rhythm and the metaphor
The stars of the seer and philosopher
The poet and the scholar
Would gather them
On the water of my small bowl
Of my reflective thoughts and contemplation
In moments of subtle sublimation
A colorful crystallization
The tree is really rich and lovely
Sometimes bubbly sometimes melancholy
It is over a month since
It has no more been bringing out
No cloud and light mixed sprout
Of the lyrics of blossom
To gather and store
For our core
For our sea gull soar
On inquiry a friend told me
An arm has got injured
And the spirit unsure
To sap the resources of the soil
To uncoil from it
The flowers of spirit
A book is missing
From my bookcase
A moon from my dream
Like the crows we cannot scream
Still we wish a quick return
From the infirm arm
That, as we learn
Has kept the blooms
Copyright © Probir Gupta | Year Posted 2017
To their government Utah is true -
Not just state, but the federal too,
and so with great pride
they display on each side
of their flag the old Red, White and Blue.
Also famous for their industry,
Utah honors the cute bumble bee,
of which I now brag.
Center stage on their flag
is the hive of the bee….. naturally!
On Utah’s state flag is an eagle -
The symbol of peace, it is regal!
Pioneers, though, preferred,
a more interesting bird.
Why not on the flag is a seagull?
Most Utahans should know the story.
Long ago, crickets tried to destroy
the crops, till each gull
in Salt Lake ate them all!
That bald eagle has stolen gull’s glory!
Now a monument in Salt lake stands
for the sea gull, and isn’t it grand
that a bird that should be
living nearby the sea
is in love with a dry desert land!
Written by Andrea Dieitrich
July 22, 2015 for the contest of Judy Konos
NOTE: Came back here to say it's Pioneer Day (July 24). Utah is the only state to celebrate it. I can hear fireworks outside my house!!
Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2015
The days go by
And you go on,
A lonely migrant on your shore…
The air is clear,
The water, calm,
What is it you are searching for?
The sun is bright,
The sea gulls sing,
Their sweet music eludes your ears.
For deep within
You hear your tune,
A symphony of dread and tears.
We know not why
Your heart is sad
When such joy all around you sings.
You say you long
To make your way
To chase those dreams with golden wings.
But you should know,
Dreams come and go
Above your barren, narrow beach,
Where the sun is bright
Where the sea gull sings—
Although no sight of golden wings—
True dreams are just within your reach.
© Sandra M. Haight 2015
All Rights Reserved
Contest: Just Within Reach
Sponsor: John Lawless
Copyright © Sandra Haight | Year Posted 2015
Prayer Cried Out In The Storming Waves
Fought the waves, the maddened tumbling sea
doomed ship sinking swiftly beneath me
Prayers to God,to every saint I ever knew
no desire to reside beneath this ocean blue
Midnight's stormy fury soon moved past
ship gone, me clinging to a broken mast
Fear, the kind that eats into your soul
rebuked my every hopeful, impossible goal
Prayers renewed with sad desperate pleas
Lord, let me survive these angry seas
The waves beat me about with great delight
I am tired, give me strength to fight
Master,find all the good that rests in me
save me, to do all that you may please
Prayer ended, my legs and arms do so tire
as the last ember was burning in my fire
Hope raced forth in a bright shining light
dawn broke forth from that darkest night
The rays hit me with a soft, sweet breeze
so calm,so very calm my soul was at ease
A single gull flew over my bobbing head
Hope cried out,you live,you are not dead
Land must now be very close hereabouts
So tired but that did not stop my shouts
Thank you Lord,this gift I will never forget
I believe,even though I am not home yet
A rescue ship's horn was soon blasting away
saved I'd be on this fine glorious day
Soon I was safe, safe on board her deck
I knew then faith and prayer saved my neck
Captain said, saw your flare just before dawn
thats when we raced and really poured it on
I was so confused and my mind it did so stun
I had no lifesaving flares and no flare gun!
Robert J. Lindley, 05-24-2015
Note: Was it a dream, my memory tells me I lived it.
In another life so long ago.
Copyright © Robert Lindley | Year Posted 2015
A lone gull,
pecked and pecked
at flecks of snow on the ground -
a curious delight this February day,
but what could be found
in nature's freshly poured flakes
to sate the bird's appetite?
She turned and soared away on wings of grey.
By Andrea Dietrich/ Motif is Nature
For "the Impress me with a small poem! (New / Old)" Poetry Contest
of Giorgio A. V.
Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2014
Step by step
Flirt by flirt
Dance by dance
The sky advanced
Slant and twirl
In eye curl
Wild sea gull
Smile by smile
Into the Nile
Copyright © Probir Gupta | Year Posted 2016
I fly with the gull
And breathe the color of salt
Hear the surf's repeating song
I came this way long ago
And return to find my path
Copyright © Barbara Gorelick | Year Posted 2013
Among the cries of lonesome gull
A crude cross-slash, grinning skull
Below the tattered crimson sail
Those that did weather the fiercest gale
Noblemen fearfully bow
Seamen kneel before its prow
Quiver before the pirate`s might
A vision of ivory, dark as night
We slowly conquer waves of teal
All eyes follow the steady keel
The ebony ship, its purpose grim
The treasure hoard hidden within
Like a glittering blade, swift and sure
Cursed to never dock at shore
Remembered in forgotten lore
Not even the bravest Mortal knave
Shall escape the wrath of the grave
So we sail forever-more
Copyright © Gabriela Fleury | Year Posted 2005
Surely, no conception of Heaven, can compare in reality to this,
A gift of fair winds and following seas, and a taste of Calypso's kiss ...
That sweet spray of briney bliss.
Sprites demi-détourné on wave tops, a million gold toe-shoes that gleam,
Flaunting their glistening movements, a dance conjured up in a dream ...
The sun's ballet abaft the beam.
Such kinship I feel with the heavens, when out cutting wakes with a keel,
I'm closest then to all creation, and closest to all I count real ...
Mere words can't express how I feel.
Slipping from swell to rolling swell, parting the white caps like time,
A whimsical ebullience within me, like a child composing a rhyme ...
A guileless adventure, sublime.
A bell buoy clangs its warning, while a tern sings a sorrowful song,
Surf on the hull sprays a low-flying gull, oh how could a sailor go wrong?
Aye, this is where old salts belong!
Well, if I could choose my undoing, I'd dream my last breaths to be
Filled with a surge of sea foam, waxing footloose and fancy-free,
And forever a part of the sea ...
Beat forever ... my heart of the sea.
* Submitted December 8, 2017, for the "Premiere Contest Number 115" Poetry Contest, Brian Strand, Sponsor. *
Copyright © Gregory R Barden | Year Posted 2017
Murky sea this day as she wades chest deep
Battling strong waves with every step
No other swimmers, no lifeguards, no sun
Nary a gull on the beach so windswept
Solitude is her preference, she floats
Closes her eyes, attempts to clear her head
She’s tossed about, but opts to remain
She’d rather be here than alone in bed
Suddenly she feels a slippery nudge
To her feet she slips, scans surrounding sea
No life in sight, but she’s drifted out far
Her heart pumps fast, she swims feverishly
Another bump! Is this her worst nightmare?
Sea creature preying ‘neath turbulent surf?
White caps surround and her cries reach no ears
A painful sting, she’s p
For Gareth's "Leave Me Hanging" challenge
Copyright © Carolyn Devonshire | Year Posted 2010
Everyone has to learn...
To be a gull
It will be your turn
In a sky...
Upwards I flew....
To meet you
For, in us all
Is a Jonathan Livingston
In me and in you
It is the spirit that takes us all...
Reaching new heights
We all dream
Some chose to be....
Gulls on the sea
This is me....
As I sit, watching the going down of the sun
The gulls swoop and turn
I savour the thought
Can I become....
One of those...
Who fly until the day is done
I will come as a gull
Fly over the sea
Swoop and turn with glee
What it is to be free
One day it will be
Copyright © Matthew Brackley | Year Posted 2006
Never once have I been enclosed in exhaustion
Until now - like a black woolen blanket, drenched.
I've looked and crawled and even found unceasingly
Before screaming from the riverbank: "This Is What It's For."
But now I can hardly whisper,
Sensing, maybe, a changing tide that sends the fish away
Or remembering past moons that moved them to more fertile feasts.
Yes - both it must be.
For now the water's meandering isn't hopeful wanderlust;
It only serves to annoy me.
And is it me or has its flow slowed?
Although now more than ever I note its swiftness
In comparison with the glassy new-born lake
Or the black curmudgeonly seas.
The gulls still call but no longer in triumph.
It seems it's morphed into a dirge
Though their wings still hang a crisp angel white in the sky.
Gliding, though again more slowly,
Before snatching a fish with ease;
Now it's mockery in their squawking.
Trudging through muddy waters,
I feel more akin to washed up wood
And the log floating on
Than to the swift fishermen
Across the river.
I sit and listen to their songs
Carried by the soft wind,
Encompassing the gull and my own fragile breath
(A song of a son lost at sea and I can't find where to put my hands).
I taste their hope in the sand and the sun
And it oozes from my eyes.
Copyright © Matt Fergoda | Year Posted 2014
My friends at poetrysoup
Keep pushing me on
I stop to take a deep breath
And Daniel Larson might say "What's next"
I'll write about a bird, a sea gull
Circling our Wyoming earth
Vince Suzadail Jr. might comment
"Come on you can do better than that"
Alright the buffalo outside my door
John Loving III might say
"Him again "
"We've heard of him before"
I'll write about my rocks
And Carol Brown might say
"Come on give us something
To knock our sox off"
Bob Hinton said, "Best to you"
But wait were those the words
Or was it
"At least try to do your best"
Karen O'Leary said, "I Missed you
Hope you had a wonderful holiday and_"
Here I held my ears,
I didn't want to disappoint her, and I wiped my tears.
Mike Falatico, Jimbo Goff
Christie Mills and Earl Brown too
They all work so hard
And I talk about the zoo
I love you all, You are my family and friends
Or I would never have tried to write
This silly little poem
And not worry about being sued
But your encouragement
Helps to move me on
Without your honest words
I'd not get any enjoyment from my works.
I really do get encouragement from your comments.
And I try to do my best to help keep our poetrysoup family
strong. Thanks for all your help. God Bless, Cile
Copyright © Marycile Beer | Year Posted 2010
salt scented sand, green seaweed laced,
tumbled by surf and white gull paced,
pleasantly blessed long seaside day
when warm breezes waltz with bright, gay
I drink pungent scents standing near
where turquoise wears sea foam veneer,
Copyright, November 16, 2014
Faye Lanham Gibson
Copyright © Faye Gibson | Year Posted 2014
THREE OUTDOOR SCENES
frog pond mallards
on the grassy, shallow bank
table with peanuts
round and round the tree he goes
caw, caw cries high crow
reading by the sea
this boy sitting on a rock
gull catches the breeze
Copyright © daver austin | Year Posted 2014
"He murders and then walks in the funeral procession."
You ask me why the tears
Why the sad face
And inside I laugh
At your gull in asking
When you know full well
You are a murderer
You walk in the funeral profession of my heart
Wailing and mourning
Dressed in black
Crying tears made of glass
shattering as it hits the ground
Only I hear
You eulogize me
Speaking of my wonderful traits
What made me the beautiful woman
Everyone loved and wanted to be with
Everyone but you
Everyone but YOU saw my real beauty
The crimson glory of my robe
The scent of my being
YOU saw the thorn
You call me a rose
You ask me why I weep
You ask me why I mourn
You murdered my heart
Yet you walk in the funeral procession
The last laugh is on you
For after 3 days
I will rise again
I need to rest in this tomb
Before I see the light of day
Before I awake to newness of life
You will not be there
My resurrection day.
Copyright © Eileen Manassian | Year Posted 2014
He ventured from out of the west
In a small cabin amidships:
Stole away in an unknown quest,
Salty ocean brine wet on his lips
In the concealment of dim twilight
Neptune braced his trident,
And offered safe passage in the night
When stormy seas grew more violent
Into locks and narrow canal tide
Ocean to ocean Panama led:
Two continents yonder either side,
"No turning back now" a voice said
Starboard to port - stern to bow -
The turbines below decks on:
He'd be back someday, somehow,
But alas, not for a long time gone
Blinding rain cracked the dark sky,
And heat of hurricane wind:
Out from beyond shadows slip by
In the playground of the dolphin
Sped over vast nautical canyons
Deep into southern latitudes:
Lifeboat drills required all hands
Lest he sail a sea of vicissitudes
As a cool morning breeze rolled in
He'd hear that droning hull:
Feel the shift of the sea in motion
And watch the albatross and gull
On his maiden voyage went he far
Into the Tasman a sea rover:
No longer shone the Northern Star
But soon the journey would be over
Natives in canoes off Tahiti - sellin'
Beads and cloths finely sewn:
Like Columbus, Cortez, and Magellan
In foreign lands not unlike his own
"Last port of call" they shouted loud
Down gangway's shiny gloss:
Ahoy! Land of the Long White Cloud -
Farewell good ship SS Southern Cross
From Port of Spain, Trinidad
To Auckland, New Zealand: Dec 1968
Copyright © Keith Trestrail | Year Posted 2014
One legged swaying
Stiff breeze chills
Soldier crabs scurry
Copyright © Uwe Stroh | Year Posted 2015
There are times in my life, in my soul, that the sea
calls and I must answer. I need to see the horizon
fade into the blue, hear the sounds of the surf
and the cry of the gull. There is a connection there,
forged, I think, in the time of creation. With my
feet in the surf I feel a sense of peace, as if
somehow I’ve come home. Home to the whale’s
spout, the salt on my tongue, the knowledge that
I am part of something bigger than can be known.
There are times in my life, in my soul, that the
sea calls and I must answer....
Copyright © Barbara Gorelick | Year Posted 2016
I'm here on our shore
Sands we used to measure
You ran to the cape
Asterix from comic pages
The fisherman stopped you
Crabs chased, you ran in bewilderment
Mother sea, all tenderness gazed.
On a country boat on shore
Our rice bowl full
Sea-gulls creaked an omen ill
I stood over you though shaking
A shade, shelter, arms out stretched
Jesus on cliff in Rio
Drooping sun, tearful eyes
Faces of June, roaring waves.
My offering at twilight
My son, where did you vanish
Decorated our yard
Our life sketch
Sea lowers the mourning pitch
Light house like glow worm
Rhyming song, catching thief
Hidden hands emerged
My life-terrible moment
Was it the Hidden Hand of God?
A lone sea gull dipping down into the sea
Death knell from chapel
Me alone on the shore.
Even shadows become invisible.
Copyright © J.KOLADI SAMSON | Year Posted 2012
I come now to land's end then to the sea
Always lost in the magic so dark and so deep
Wishes fly with the sails, tethered by hope
Knowing that the sea all my secrets will keep
We came from the sea and it calls me back home
I’m at home with the ship and breathe the salt air
The waves, oh the waves that call out my name
The mists and the winds are now mine to share
In this troubled world few things stay the same
To find my soul I come to the vast open sea
The horizon bends round and I feel at peace
I swoop with the gull and my heart flies free
So I watch the far shores and to the melody attend
Listening to the sea, a song without beginning or end
Copyright © Barbara Gorelick | Year Posted 2015
As I watched,
like a lion with its prey
the wave growled and snarled
while crouching, preparing to pounce.
Rushing up the sloping shingle beach,
it reached out and dragged pebbles
down into its lair.
the rasping raking of the beach tumbling
pell-mell and headlong into the sea
stones spewed out as leftovers
in the next cold wave of grey water,
breaking in trails of white foam
along the coastline.
the wind-blown spray
and the black clouds over grey water
threatening and evil;
a wave rose, a hooded cobra
striking the rocks of the breakwater
before devouring them.
to the plaintive cries of
a young herring gull high above the sea,
blown sideways by the gale.
full twenty feet from the shore
the black-clad cormorant sat securely smug
on a post, the predator’s perch.
A swift, triumphant swoop filled his beak with supper
and I watched as he flew away.
Copyright © Elisabeth Sheaffer | Year Posted 2013
Look! Splashing fat fish.
Circling gull hovers low,
eyeing breakfast dish
For Picture Perfect Haiku #2
Contest by SKAT A
Copyright © Darlene Gifford | Year Posted 2015
Meddlesome acknowledgement was my gift to many
I wondered where the nutrients were coming from
I was absorbing your words, parched by my own dimming light-years
There I was stunned by the legion of black-faced martyrs
Exasperation of the undeniable misunderstanding of every conceivable word
Left me with another path onto death
And not nearly dying, but regenerating in technological, factorial woe
Demon thoughts squeezed bile from the brim of subconscious drivel
Accelerating the ghouls from the gull of my esophagus
I was held down from the dreams of the fortnight
From words of architecture ascending from the brims of the archangels
Eyes remained closed
And I felt the actual descent of my downfall
I did not open my eyes at all
I did not mean to pry into your life, oh beautiful soul
Please accept my gift today
My fierce gaze into your lavishing grail
Led me to accept and love where I often fail
I am no longer smothered in your intricate designs
Though I am surely small to you
Though I feel only a fraction of a fool
I am the hidden spark under the timbers of lies
I am the hidden spark under the timbers of lies
Copyright © Laura Breidenthal | Year Posted 2013
Now, life has almost passed us by,
and peaceful resignation reigns;
the beach, a spawning ground of old,
shrieks mournfully in sea gull tones.
The neap tide’s come to lull the shore;
crab moltings own the water’s edge.
Forewarned, am I, of nature’s course
in grains of gray and casings banked.
Now hand in hand, we lovers walk-on;
each throbbing with the pull of tide.
We sink in sands both wet and warm
soothed by the skies now overcast.
As faithful as the moon on high,
between the water lines, they spawn;
in estuaries at peace, they nest;
eggs as small as grains of sand.
Will you come when the moon is round
and leave your molted shell beside me?
Will you sense the celestial call
or let the scavengers find me?
First Published by Page and Spine
Copyright © Debbie Guzzi | Year Posted 2016