Best Rolling Wave Poems
"Poetry is a life-cherishing force. For poems are not words,
after all, but fires for the cold, ropes let down to the lost,
something as necessary as bread in the pockets of the hungry."
— Mary Oliver
With pen in hand, I readily compose heartfelt lines
filled with aggregations of thought and emotion.
Verses that break chains that bind, setting me free
as if I were a shackled slave in the Land of Goshen.
Freed by my pen, I've been redeemed from the sea,
and each poem a litany, recited on a rolling wave.
Poetry is the seafaring wind that fuels my sails,
navigating me to exotic, faraway places I crave.
I'm unanchored without the burden of an albatross
tied around my neck when I choose to compose.
While tethered to a pen, I'm safe and kept afloat
in tragic times of mourning and sorrowful woes.
Rhyming romantic Sonnets stirs my sensual blood,
for then I am imagining being someone's treasure.
With the heart of a passionate poet, I take part
by scribing torrid scenes of fervor beyond measure.
Writing breathes anima into the chasms of my soul.
I celebrate my poetry as art, a revered tour de force.
Poetry is my source of equilibrium, joy, and peace
when life's adversities attempt to steer me off course.
He saw the shoreline of his death
Stared at sea's rolling wave
Found the sky and sea's banding belt
Asked God, honor his grave
The red sun will warm his last breath
Footprints he left on the land
Calmly he swims to the setting sun
His prints covered by sand
3/27/15
Whispers of Hope
I found strength
amidst the rolling wave
as the billowing wind
pause to whisper a secret
resounding my passive desires
that you are a part of me
imagery, nature, sun, water, wind, word play
The mountains speak out
From under clouds soaring high
Light strikes down below!
Mountain ridges stick out
Crags and crevices shadow deep
Cloud cover adds frost!
Billowing white clouds
Rearrange themselves in groupings
Formatting anew!
The sun’s reflection
Sparkling the rolling wave tips
Sent by the strong breezes!
A wounded heart cries, fills its lonely glass
Held, caressed by the anguished hands of sorrow
Hoping memories last, as tears trespass
To rebuild the temple love did borrow
Pouring eyes awash in long thinning streams
Their sadness a relentless rolling wave
Upheaval from within choking the dreams
Leaving nothing to remember or save
Lost in the rushes and chained to the pain
The heart is bleeding from wounds it conveys
While scattered momuments crumbled from strain
Lay dying, in the garden of yesterday
To find one breath shared with the pain now kept
And feel the wounded heart when love has wept
gentle waves tiptoe ashore
sandpipers scurrying away from the rippling tide
sandcastles looming in the distance
beach blanket knights
and sand dune days
radiant in the mid day sun
shades of glistening brown and red
and dark sunglasses
a red and yellow kite gently dances
in the midst of a gentle sea breeze
shuffle on the shoreline
as rays swim by
sand dollar days
and the slow rising tide
sweet gentle rhythm of a rolling wave
aqua blue waters
to put your mind at ease
and a blanket of blue with cotton candy clouds
slowly drifting across the afternoon sky
sands of time pass on the beach
entry for beach poem contest- Blue on blue on blue
subject : Beach
From within the flux its breath sweeps the shoreline,
Sometimes spewing forth flotsam and jetsam
Lolling us to sleep with its soothing savoury sighs.
Its siren calls hypnotising the unwary and confidant.
Drawing us to depths of hidden fury and peace.
Scouring the lands with an insatiable appetite,
Forever hungry, it’s stomach a pitiless pit of plenty.
Its minions devouring the fallen. Lost in opaque screams.
The rolling wave ripples through to the very soul,
Its innocuous plate sparkles in white foamy trepidation.
Beckoning us, taunting us, through its congenital self.
Primordial waves bathe our lives as we search the shore.
For peace, love and isolation, now flung and strewn.
Where hope of salvage dwell in our beachcombing souls.
We wish to return from where once we came, we lost embryos.
Our mislaid mother calls, still we newcomers neglect her voice.
5th Aug 2013..........S.de Burca
You disappeared like foam on a slow rolling wave
You sang a deep-throat song like from a small creature
Your gaze sang songs of sad sunrises to me
You shook my world leaving me by Life's roadside
On dark alleys running through my imagination
You sought people with sad souls
I became confused, your sadness overwhelmed me
your discontent hung like lone shadows on a barren hillside
Lover's pain is meant to teach fragile lessons of the heart
The pain you inflicted on me is an open wound I hide in my soul
I'm not naive, I know that life is not a frivolous party
but neither should it be all pain
A peaceful anxiety engulfs me
As I sit wafting through the winter of my sorrow
trying to make sense of us
you were my chosen one, I chose my pain
You are not to blame
You were the guiding star in my life for a short minute
my father should have warned me
women like you come soft and cuddly like kittens
but leave in a fiery destructive storm
But it's too late now,
you are with him wherever you are
and I am here sitting on the floor sobbing
embracing my tenth beer.
"Poetry is a life-cherishing force. For poems are not words,
after all, but fires for the cold, ropes let down to the lost,
something as necessary as bread in the pockets of the hungry."
— Mary Oliver
With pen in hand, I readily compose heartfelt lines
filled with aggregations of thought and emotion.
Verses that break chains that bind, setting me free
as if I were a shackled slave in the Land of Goshen.
Freed by my pen, I've been redeemed from the sea,
and each poem a litany, recited on a rolling wave.
Poetry is the seafaring wind that fuels my sails,
navigating me to exotic, faraway places I crave.
I'm unanchored without the burden of an albatross
tied around my neck when I choose to compose.
While tethered to a pen, I'm safe and kept afloat
in tragic times of mourning and sorrowful woes.
Rhyming romantic Sonnets stirs my sensual blood,
for then I am imagining being someone's treasure.
With the heart of a passionate poet, I take part
by scribing torrid scenes of fervor beyond measure.
Writing breathes anima into the chasms of my soul.
I celebrate my poetry as art, a revered tour de force.
Poetry is my source of equilibrium, joy, and peace
when life's adversities attempt to steer me off course.
November 28, 2022
Poetry is a Life-Cherishing Force Contest
Sponsored by Sotto Poet
The muddle of sleep—
The grand entrance to Morpheus' legendary palace
In whole or half a tablet;
Easy breaths of chemicals
In pretty, light-refracting bottles.
I prepare myself for an escorted journey
To where dreams float from their origin
Like glossy bubbles through netted neurons
I am the keeper of sedatives—
An expert in manoeuvring through fallen thoughts
Don't they know I need sleep too?
I need this perceived travel through time
To kiss my lips—
To enter slowly with its glowing tongue
And seduce my mind into a comfortable numbness—
To lug it, like a limp body,
Away from the sounds of rubber through rain
Onto a restful shore.
Yes,
I do vie
For my senses to trip, drunkenly,
Over one and other
Like a vague rolling wave in cloudy space.
It is actually a religion
Or maybe I'm confusing it with religious consumption—
Swallowing rotund solidity
Like a whore swallows fluidity.
This is not ecstasy
This is prescribed tranquility, so it's OK.
Okay, and infinitely sweeter,
Because it does not put me in a hot air balloon
With a finite fire.
I don't ever need to descend;
Just open my eyes to the sun through my blinds
Society is dancing on my back
Across my stomach
Trying to expel the demon inside me.
I love these molecular robots;
They drift with a purpose and close the dock
Where insomnia frequents.
Afternoon shakes off grogginess,
The invisible lotus leaf
Stamped on my brow,
And pulls me up the conscious ladder.
I don't want to be here.
Circles of slumber—those precious pills
Are always as good as I want them to be—
As I beg them to be—
As I need them to be.
Form:
The curling waves approach each shore from sea
To meet their journeys end with crests of white
Their crashing sounds release a loud decree
And wash a foam on rocks with water's might
To cause a rainbow's mist along the shoal
To be seen above brown and jagged shores
In timeless colors that can free a soul
As the glistening waters fill contours
I'll watch each rolling wave begin to climb
Beyond shorelines where hardened rocks emerge
To free their building power over time
Then rush the rocky shores in final surge
To allow eyes to see and comprehend
Bubbling cauldrons at the ocean's end
2/4/17 contest Beyond the Breakers
Wandering down the murky tunnel,
I count the cracks along the cavern walls.
Further and further they spread like veins.
To my avid blood, their secrets call.
They promise understanding and hope.
All the answers my heart wishes to know.
I trace my finger along their ridged curves
And close my eyes, coaxing them to show.
I see the opening coming close, so
I follow them to the end of their reach.
I kiss the secrets goodbye and face forward,
Only to be greeted by a desolate beach.
I trail along the wanderer’s footsteps
Until I reach the sea’s cooling caress.
In I dip one toe and then two,
Sighing in contempt and bliss.
I scrub my foot against the jagged sand,
And turn to stare into the vast emptiness.
A place once so full of life and joy,
Now completely emerged into nothingness.
I remove my foot from the sea’s rolling wave
And wonder "Where did the happiness go?"
I once held it so tightly in my grasp but as the
Sand in my hand, it quickly fades too.
Should I return back to the tunnel
And beg it for the answers I crave?
Or wander through my existence,
Alone and confused, ‘till my grave?
I awake to find my breathing harsh.
Images of the vivid dream dance in
My eyes sight, to a horrid tune
As sand rubs my foot at the bed’s end.
Unbearable Beauty in PINK
A proud, vindictive, defiance,
rippled through the crowd,
flexed its collective muscle
moved forward
a soft, mellifluous, hum
accompanied them
nurtured their success
speaking out
answered prayers seeking sunlight
casting shadows on a darkness
together holding hands
giving thanks
Three Days to walk, to share,
shed tears of joy – and loss
move along in a sea of compassion
hope’s warriors
a rolling wave
of unbearable beauty
in PINK
10/29/2016
Subject Orpheus,
Nation Earth,
I'll bypass the system,
climb back to birth,
to calm youth,
where, each day,
by the rolling wave,
the subject lived held
and with warmth loved,
as a miracle of the womb
When the color of twilight had deigned to appear tonight
I could hear the earth sigh in proud parental delight
As the sea gathered the last rolling wave to rocky shore
the sky a smear of sun’s autumn rays upon her inner door
Gentle, the pastels blend like a baby’s tender early kiss
A breeze laid a rippled path to return the maiden’s remiss
Her wish of a lover’s hand to hold her close to cheek
Rises in all sirens song of lost lovers aching lonely seek
I feel the tide turn towards the hidden moons mystic glow
Shadows darkening, deep currents swirling to escape it’s hold
A lonely man paddles to shore, empty hands reaching far
Can he find the path that leads to loves shinning evening star?
8-23-22