Best Seaweeds Poems
( Repost )
Somehow, her eyes expand with the disobedient sky
and there, she senses urchins filling water on the lake
her feet and thighs slide up changing hues,
with receding incarnations of the moon.
She bends down gazing at images on the lake
as limbs turn into seaweeds, a mermaid in pain
changing hues in the crystal white of sky…
and the moon with slices of split mirrors burn
on wiggles of unscented tresses in water.
She dips her hands to catch the sleek tail in a plunge
knowing not a word to describe the reflection on the lake,
and witness the need to flow randomly in its
entrance through the expanse of one silver sky…
trying to recover glimpses reflected in the water.
Without point of reference to unknown images,
she vaguely remembers how transparently liquid
the changing hues of the moon become watery
like a hint of coagulated blood on a mermaid’s lake...
and the laughter of the sky drips into imaginings.
.......................................
* Written for a fantasy contest that was discontinued;
its theme required entrants to describe one's mirrored
image of the self. Few comments ranged from " Nice, but I
didn't get it" to " You seemed to have overused the word
"water?" In hindsight, I asked myself," what
were you thinking? This is sloppy!"
Jerry T Curtis' This Poem S***s Contest
Beneath the fathom’s deep, in wreckage’s graveyard
Of the forgotten, here the broken bones of ships lie still,
Covered in a forest of seaweeds greenery.
Corrosion steel hauls ripped wide open, lay against ancient
Wooden beams from vessels voyages, of long ages distant past.
Faded names, render no clues reference, for the maritime detective.
But tragedies lost vessels, did ride upon the frothy foam,
And spray above, sailing the big blues timeless tides.
Nay Poseidon's toll ti’s payed in sailors flesh, melting
Humanities dreams beneath his drowning waves.
Beauties fare, and proud are they, the crippled,
Swallowed whole by the aquatic storms avenging rage.
Mercy's mere-angels weep thus, for the mortal souls lost,
Guiding them towards their spiritual resting place below,
And welcoming them unto their fathers kingdom beneath,
The abysses darkening depths.
Torn asunder is mankind's well hued craft, shattered
Into bits pieces, large to small, a glittering shards
Rain of destruction. crashing into the muddy bottom,
Of the under belly of the sea itself.
Deaf are the silent cry's of men, whom leave only
Bubbles streaming upwards, as their last epitaphs
Tribute for thy existence.
The devil's gardens, swim these black waters,
Turning them crimson red, sharp toothed monsters,
Feasting upon carrion discarded left overs.
Dark figures, phantom creatures, lurking just below,
The briny surface, awaiting for the Poseidon’s next victim,
To join the graveyard of ships.
Faded are their names, forgotten titles, as the paint
Peels, on the once majestic vessels.
Now they remain wreckage’s ruins, abandon to the
Mercy of erosion masterful hand of destruction.
Hear the sounding clanging of bells, whom ring in
Silences of troubled waters abode, it is the cracking
Of doom, beware thy young lad, he whom seeks fortunes
Favor abroad, for only fools test the might of the sea,
Against thy own grit and survive.
Thus thee shed a tear for the fallen, dear lad,
For no other will on the dead’s behalf, in thine
Cemetery of the graveyard of ships. no passages
Return tickets are given.
BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
SPIRITUAL-HISTORICAL
02-03-2914
I lie leisurely on a bed of burning coals
My soul freezes to its core,
The night tears out the heart of the day
And swallows the sun whole,
As my tears ravage the spirit of the sea
My thoughts drift like the seaweeds.
~Contest: Bite Size# 51
~Sponsor: Line Gauthier.
Poseidon's Paradise
Sunbeams glide across oceans of gold,
awakening Poseidon from his slumber.
His trident flashes bolts of lightning,
summoning mermaids from their dreams.
Tails splashing rhythmically in delight,
their scales flash like colors of rainbows.
Seaweeds sway in depths of splendor...
blessed with water, their world is paradise.
Date: 07-08-2021
Contest: Workshop: Adjectives Deleted Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Jack Webster
Placement: 2nd Place
sinuous seaside sand
softly shifts smooth stones
seaweeds stinky sigh
winsome waves woven
wearing wondrous weave
westerly wind whistles
sunlit sparkling stars
seashore serenades sunshine
sopranos singing
driftwood’s dozing dreams
distant diamond disappears
deep dusky day dies
7-29-2020
Birch Bay
A dream catcher
I would like to be a dream catcher
to inhabit in the dream castle
I would pursue
each beautiful dream in my soul
and every night
i would come to you
and knock at the gate of your sleep
with a kindled smile
I would invite you
And let only you
be my dream mate
together
we will linger in
the singing and dances of mermaids
drowning in deepest dive
together
we will consume the freshest wild seaweeds
and live in imperishably young
within a home of eternal belonging
and if you love the adventure
I will catch for you another dream
and
another more
~ (c) Sukmawati Komala~
Jan 2014
Off the cape of good hope,
On dead-man’s rocky reef,
A legend from old was born.
Behold The Flying Dutchman,
Phantom’s driven ghost ship.
Seeking infinities isle beyond,
Mortal fleshes reach.
The captains wheel sets a
Study coarse full ahead.
Treachery’s boney skeleton walkers,
Follow his orders without question.
It is the devils own hand picked,
A madman’s crew,
Hell bound disciples riding,
Currents restless waves towards,
Destiny's unknown passages.
The grim reapers soul seekers,
Beware all at sea if you witness,
The Dutchman’s murky birthing.
From depths fathoms below,
Tarred torn canvas sails unfurl,
Upon broken masts covered,
By seaweeds greenish slime.
Under heavy pressures crushing
Weight,
A chilling graveyard of wreckage's,
Carnage exists,
An isolation forgotten realm.
A tidal avalanche, aquatic blues,
Perfect storm envelopes,
Everything in it's destructive path.
Dragging anchors chains behind,
Death's black vessel brakes,
The surfaces tension.
Cutting through the rough waves
At eases pace.
Readily welcoming those lost aboard,
Then she'll dive towards deep waters,
Farthest edge.
Behold The Flying Dutchman’s,
Legend lives forever on.
In nightmares screaming twilight hour,
Another soul becomes enchained.
And a skeleton walker joins,
The devils own.
BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
Simple treasures we have found
(seaweeds, fossils
seashells, crabs)
as we learned to look around
Walking holding hand
(He stopped
and wrote)
I love you in the sand
As the tides began to rise
(He laughed
I cried)
as the words disappeared before our eyes
But simple treasures we have found
(become fossilized
loving memories)
as we learn to look around
Form:
I’m building castles in the sand
on the shores of a grey, grey sea.
The clouds have gathered overhead
and the shells are wave-washed clean.
Footprints wander down the shore
of the vast and vacant sea,
the waves are buffing them away
and turning the sand sateen.
Beyond the berm and the waving grass
inked upon the setting sun,
someone sits in a house of glass
as sand through fingers runs.
I’m watching seabirds dodge the stars
when the waves reflect the moon
and pulling seaweeds from the rocks
they drearily festoon.
And the sand’s run out of the fingers now,
and the drink’s run out of the cup;
the house of glass is quiet now,
all the shutters drawn up.
Far beneath fathom's kept, where the dead men,
Dare not speak of forgotten kingdom's hidden deep,
Under waves chilling currents, in the aquatic blues,
Burial zone.
Behind seaweeds thickened greenery, and corals
Reefs decorative stealth.
An ancient mystery's truth lies undiscovered,
Pull back times curtain reveal a world turned up,
Side down.
Once a utopian society lived, bathed in the
Warmth of the sun.
Shinning by brilliance light aglow in
Architectural marvel.
Civilization’s corner stone, etched with
Diversity's trade mark.
Idealism in perfection orderly form,
Pictured framed amongst ,
Legend's greatest mysteries left unsolved,
Yet it intrigues us.
A vast landscape spanning the horizon,
Wealth's golden city.
Built brick by brick on sheer strength,
Of will power and intelligence intellect.
A crown jewel of the ancient world but,
It's existence has tarnished with age,
Entering the realm of long ago,
Mythological legendary myth.
But fortune's favor draws fates attention,
Leaving unto follies end result greed's lust,
Deception’s cruelty, and slavery’s injustice.
The god's have little mercy for humanity’s,
Sinister darker side,
And cast a titan's krackan to sly the
Wickedness there in.
Destruction landfall hit Atlantis head on,
An eerie twilight’s hour destiny’s four winds,
Did scream why have you forsaken,
Your children thus so.
No wraith's compassion could eliminate,
Sorrows heavy burden to bare.
A nation, a continent wiped from the face
Of the earth, without leaving a trace vaporized,
In a instant.
Storytellers epically write words, telling of
Legacy's lost paradise.
It's valuable theology speaks volumes knowledge,
Of lessons to be learned so not as to,
Be repeated again.
In the devil triangle may it rest in peaceful slumbers,
Dreaming state.
Until history's reawakening calls it name once more.
BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
Last night, i dared revisit the crossing
of time with my brother, hovering on a
distant sky , tracing notes of my dripping rhymes.
We grew like chariot riders; he, the Troy of
streets and I, the maiden of lofty speeches.
While his hands reveled at the wonder of seaweeds,
I reviewed the fury of ancient mythology---
he laughs again at the strangeness of my ivory
tower ; and above easels of clouds, he smiles
knowing only he could comprehend my weird
attachment to words, art, and tempest.
Ten years ago, he ascended somewhere
in the glow of light, shutting me from all
moments uninhabited… unleashed.
A blank paper shouts at my hesitating
litany as if it were aware how siblings
climb inside, touch the veins of bloodline…
yet, it can not. Like a pageless odyssey,
I close my seaweed eyes unable to continue
recounting that June day,
when Benjo slipped into chariot’s final ride
without nothing else to say.
©
*in sweet memory of my brother who
relished my uniqueness as a person
and inspired me to pursue my passion.
Carol Eastman's Unsung Hero Contest
Turtles
We turtles are special and have been revered
All over the world for centuries.
In the Americas, native people always regarded us
As being sacred, symbolical, and mythical.
Even Christopher Columbus when he crossed the ocean blue,
Paid homage to us in 1492, as he spied a tiny island,
Off the coast of Hispaniola, that reminded him of a huge turtle shell,
Naming it “Tortuga,” the Spanish word for “turtle.”
Turtles like me are quite versatile, at home on either land or sea,
Good weather, bad weather, it’s all the same to me.
Freely swimming and roaming sandy beaches,
It’s easy to seek protection between sharp rocks and crevices,
Colorful coral reefs, sunken ships,
And even hostile sharks and octopuses.
With friends and foes I forage for food,
Among tender seaweeds and crusty ancient barnacles.
Honorable creatures, calm, cool, and seemingly unhurried,
We timid turtles trouble no one and mind our own business.
Alas! Too many of our gentle kind have sadly disappeared,
Some taken for pets, some served on delicate dinner plates,
And some carelessly slaughtered.
But fortunately for me,
I’m the one that got away,
And lived to tell the tale!
Date: 7/29/2014
Entered in contest “Turtles” sponsored by: Cyndi MacMillan
Aeneas crept into the depths
of the underground, upright
he stepped
darkly
as dead roses pressed
and she wept
(Persephone)
in the pit
(indemnity)
where shadows slept
bellowing
as bellows sing
so readily
below those mourning bells that ring
burrowed
'neath the death of Spring
borrowed
from the breath we breathe
burroughs
of departed greed
ennui ennui ennui I scream
wake up! this hell is not a dream
and all is eaten as it feeds
and everything is as it seems
and everything is vanity
as Ashteroth to Easter bleeds
calamitous insanity
the bedlam that Pandora breeds
and Neptune drowned himself in seas
abysmal king of dead seaweeds
the pit is dank and dark and deep
and filled with those of restless sleep
and as the riddle of the Sphinx
shows that time is entropy
just as chains are naught but links
our DNA, life's tapestry
unweaves itself unto deceit
stranding us in furnace heat
like the Rich Man full of thirst
as is the last so was the first
Breathe deep into the shale,
vent your anger out into the deep blue
Strangle that rage in the seaweeds,
let the calming tortoise walk of peace
move slowly across the ocean floor bed
There, gently rest your troubled head,
and pacify your fiery emerald irises
Eco-green rage
cannon pointed at the toxic canisters
being dumped in
Eco-green zeal,
environmentally protecting
the baby seals
The trees, the air ... the birds in the air,
for these nature gems you care very much
You despise profiteering man’s
poisonous industrial touch
The water, the soil ... the creatures foraging in the soil,
for these natural jewels you’re willing to die
Seeing the spilt oil on the beach sand,
dirtying the pristine clean land,
makes you wanna cry
You have an eco-green glint of rage
rampaging in your eyes
Gamma-ray transformation has you hulking,
as you watch the earth
sink deeper and deeper into a
cesspool of man-made lyes
And the madder you get,
the stronger you get
Breathe deep into the magma shell,
vent your eco-green rage into the sky blue
Let your volcanic anger transform you,
and let it change
the surrounding sick atmosphere too
May your eco-green rage
pollute the perpetrators’ pockets
with shredded green confetti
Falling like radioactive rain,
draining their bank accounts steady
As their down pouring financial pain
floods the world economy stage ...
Tears of joy cool your hot, eco-green rage
The Sandpipers Call
Sandpipers Call amongst the garbage
along the shore,
Tumbleweeds dance from dusk till dawn
Tumbleweeds roll as time goes by,
And time should stand still for love?
But:
Only Tumbleweeds roll roll back and fro making love to the wind.
Flying lost, in a blue sky,
never knowing why,
Doves fly when curtains Call
Crying doves. Scatter, as curtains fall,
Peregrine falcon,, hits and death calls,,
And a spray of bloody feathers,,
In a garden of angels,, watch them fall,,
As a cold east wind blows from the west
Marking the spot where Sandpipers Call.
And Tumbleweeds yawn at break of dawn
And race each other down empty streets,
only stopping to keep each other warm,
Lost again where broken hearts meet
Dust storms. Whistle a warning,
Broken windmills answer with creaking rusting calls that last forever.
For time is the enemy of broken hearts,
Leaving you breathless as,
Strangers walk hand in hand among the garbage along the shore,
where, Sandpipers Call.
Tumbleweeds play hide and seek,
.....until dawn, in the cemetery on the hill where old cowboys lie,
waiting for Jesus lost in the garbage along the shore.
And Sandpipers mourn for dying doves.
As Tumbleweeds the traveling kind
Remind us that love is blind as they March through broken windows
and open doors, a spray of bloody feathers fall.
Tumbleweeds play hide and seek until dawn
Dust devil's whistle a warning, broken windmills answer with
squeaking rusting calls and they'll sing that way for broken hearts.
Lost forever.
At last the Tumbleweeds, call to the dying Sandpipers, dying in
the rotting garbage and seaweeds strewn along the shore..
Home..