Best Surfs Poems
When sea gods invisibly show their glory
They’re escorted by their elusive sea army;
Vow before them, their loud rhapsodic chords play,
As heard in light of blue waves on summer day.
Marvelous army with mighty spiral swords
Hewed by sea gods, their magnificence- behold!
Their trimmed trident’s tines conjure like somersault,
Wish I'm sea god’s knight to ride on them and joust.
Coastal birds herald their rare presence with glee
With ineffable joy, breeze hums sweet ditty;
Surfs break in applause beneath the granite cliffs
As splendid narwhals’ display… nature breaths…sniffs~
Narwhals are great sea god’s mighty unicorns,
They’re special sea army, prides of Poseidon!
Categories:
surfs, beauty, nature, sea,
Form:
Sonnet
Cobwebs of thoughts dangle in forlorn corner
Spun by emotions that surrendered long ago
Still hanging out, anguished, in grip of throes
Engrossed in silence while gazing night skies
Admiring how they once painted astral designs
Brush stroking delight by sheer hint of eyes
Until the silken threads of lives ripped apart,
Each filament eagerly tearing webs of hearts.
Regrets of passion buzzed roiling wistful lives
When placid frontiers encountered stormy tides
Sailing smooth surfs that callously turned wild
On oceans unfamiliar to the benevolent minds
Beckoned by allure of prairies shamrock green
Thinking out there grew a garden of paradise~~
Abundance of blossoms their lives couldn’t have,
Squandering foolishly bond of love they had.
Yet, the darkened nights they traversed all alone
Heard repertoire of enchanting mirthful tone
Wooing love, having crossed thousands of miles,
Reminding them~ you don’t just abandon life,
Trilling tunes of affection in imploring oratory
Teaching humans secrets of romantic allegory
When the dawning on horizon gleams lapis lazuli
And a doting nightingale sings of dawn’s glory.
Promise of hopeful day glimmered their insights
Spurring their spirits to revisit places of delight,
Those they painted once by sheer hint of eyes,
Reassembling the filaments torn apart by time
Proceeding soon mindfully to rebuild their nest
Excited once again to hear chirps of hatchlings
When the dawning on horizon gleams lapis lazuli
And a doting nightingale sings of dawn’s glory.
June 7, 2021
Placed 1st: This or that, vol 3 poetry contest
Sponsor: Edward Ibeh
Title chosen: A nightingale sings of dawn’s glory
Categories:
surfs, break up, hope, love
Form:
Verse
I am the mind disturbed that thinks it’s well
euphoria surfs, dysphoric swells
perfect storm before the cresting wave
felled the confidence of the brave
I am the liar that catfished hope
Stole from a random heart that couldn’t cope
Love leaps, faith jumps, joy follows
Suicide upon the maddened rocks below
I am all the tears that fell
Abide in the hidden depths of sorrows well
I am the fire that burns up all your dreams
Dying light of fallen stars and moonbeams
Categories:
surfs, dark, drug,
Form:
Rhyme
Since the elders often proclaim, my how time flies,
You then naturally look up into the skies.
To study the heavens for at least one small sign,
From the horizon up to the tallest tree line.
Then suddenly, a flock of birds flitters about,
So you believe that you might have time figured out.
But when the old people mentioned, my how time flies,
They didn’t bring up birds; so is time in disguise?
As a carnival balloon, yes that’s it, you say,
Like the vanishing kind on a bright summer day.
But losing your own, is one of life’s biggest fears,
Since you don’t want to waste any time crying tears.
It’s possible that time is commuting by plane,
Which is surely the fastest speed time could attain.
But what good can that be when the planes out of sight,
Unless it quickly returns from its roundtrip flight?
Then is waiting around to see time such a waste,
When each day there are many affairs to be faced?
Then out of the blue a helicopter is seen,
And you reflect, maybe time is on that machine.
But as soon as a copter is here it’s gone by,
After noisily chopping the beautiful sky.
Although it’s very unlikely time takes that ride,
Unless it cannot hear, or ear plugs are supplied.
Wait a minute, I got it, time surfs over clouds;
If I could do the same all my friends would be proud.
And occasionally time would appear as rain,
But then an excess amount would go down the drain.
Then could time be a portion of air all the time,
To be breathed in, or to give life to a wind chime?
Though, is that really flying like old people claim?
It seems all my guesses are exactly the same.
Well, after a long life of thinking and trying,
To figure out the ways that time could be flying,
In heaven, by feather, or motor, as vapor,
Yet, not one of those ways can be proved on paper.
Until recently, when I looked in the past,
The answers were there for those time questions asked.
That time really flies, though it takes time to see,
That a lifetime of living, is the real key.
And now I tell the young, that time truly flies,
But don’t bother looking up into the skies.
Time earns its wings every day, inside the mind,
And can only be seen, when looking behind!
David Fisher for Impress Me-Iambic Meter Contest
Philosophical motif
Categories:
surfs, flying, philosophy, time,
Form:
Iambic Pentameter
Beneath the illumination of the elliptical moon,
Within the cove of diamond bay, waves gently sway
Back and forth, under the oceans clarity of the big blue,
As the surfs foam and spray roll against the white sandy
Beaches beyond.
Hush the breeze whispers to the gulls above, hush, hush now,
Be still, for soon they will come, but these chatter snappers.
Refuse to yield in their battering’s scrawling, until the ocean
Itself-lashes out at them to be quiet.
In the silence of the timeless, in the paused hush of the
Aquatic wilderness, something stirs.
Behold the leaping lords of the blue abyss,
Breaching upwards, as if to tenderly kiss the moon above,
Thanking it for another day of life, to live wild and free,
Beneath the waves of infinity, of the big blue.
Dancers on fins of grace, seemingly toe stepping on the
Waves in a delicate balance, just for a second of brilliance
Display, while others incline in a somersault acrobatic
Air assault, to pay homages respect to the magnificent
Ocean for its eternal beauty, and salvation's refuge.
These gray phantoms of the divine ethereal realm,
Born with purity’s heart of innocence, true creatures
Of light and love, shine in the diamond star dust of twilight.
Birthed within the quaking wake of the lords divining hands,
At the moments his voice rose, in the beginning of time itself,
Dividing the light from the darkness, the dolphin took its first
Air breath of life, and the Lord Almighty,
Smiled down upon his aquatic creation with warmth and love.
Perfections free falling divers, enchanting the human heart
With their graceful swiftness, stealth and intelligence.
The sailor’s guardians at sea, these vigilant sentinels of the
Briny depth, follows the surging storms hailing, and await
To assist in the deist hour of humanities greatest need.
Within their loving pod, the young are nurtured by devotions
Breasts of giving, no tender a mother can ever be found
Then she the dolphin, born from the grace of God himself.
In the silence of the timeless, in the paused hush of the
Aquatic wilderness, something stirs beneath the waves
Of clarity.
Behold the leaping lords of the blue abyss,
Breaching upwards, as if to tenderly kiss the moon above,
Thanking it for another day of life, to live wild and free,
Beneath the waves of infinity, of the big blue.
Categories:
surfs, animal, beauty, imagery, inspirational,
Form:
Free verse
I come to your bedside once more,
you've poured our photos and poetry on the floor
an act of apostasy, a grim admission, the room in dim depression,
laying on your side , cheeks heated and soaked in sorrow, your joy in remission,
Refusing to look at me, as if seeing this face would invite a fatal grief,
hating me yet loving me because I am the wound waking belief,
a living scar fueling faith in the survival of our love,
needing me to be your spiritual shove,
I lay along you, gripping your tender arm, still, you do not disarm,
the tip of my nose surfs the skin of your shoulder, I smell the tears of my harm,
trying to explain that love is never wrong, that in your heart is where I belong
you roll into my chest, a gorgeous heat of anger escapes your glare,the sting strong,
in a fevered whimper, throat bubbled, you ask, how can I dare love you in absentia,
how can you love a kiss that cuts, a breath that bruises, nails of nostalgia,
oh how love makes us suffer for the truth of our hearts,
I say, there is no absence within the Absolute, a fusion of soul parts,
The onomatopoeia of my heart is ready to be splayed into you,
I kiss bite the supple muscle of your neck, you release a searing sigh
the air spiced with the oil of a woman's want,
I need the salvation of your hot opening, I yearn to super charge your core,
my balls, plump and heavy fall over your thigh, breast spread softly,
your hands enveloping my back, heels hooking around calves
the root of my Being swells to true and thick form
red oak stretching into your moistened magenta earth,
tenderloins contracting, pushing, smacking,
a metamorphosis matures to cure our crisis,
I can see in your eyes a soul that flies
on a light beam without ending,
one touch more and death will be a thing of lies,
rebuild love with me and find warmth never wanning,
we become Angels with no age
lovers without rage or confusion,
a new universe of raw pleasure and instincts sage,
dreams witnessed in the sweat and steam of sacred revolution -
J.A.B.
Categories:
surfs, i miss you, love,
Form:
Epic
ARCTURUS TREASURE
Just standing in the handle of the dipper.
Drinking stars from inside her silver slipper.
The cup is buoyed up in ancient liquid light.
And Ursula tags a string upon her kindly kite.
Arcturus has flung the dipper far and high.
It rides the flow and surfs the starry sky.
The giant orange that spies the buxom bear.
Our secrets safe and kept as treasure there.
Upright to Milky Way it rips the canopy to scars.
And quickly moves against a slice of slippery stars.
Red glint that is polar to the stoic starry stream.
A visitor that flies within a deft diminutive dream.
Then in a blink or in a million years from now.
The red rust will break from our starry burnished bough.
A star no longer seen to ride a season by Ursula's urge.
Nor extend its dipper's handle in a splendid splurge.
A giant red that wore the bootes of heardsman all it's life.
And followed close to make the North Star a wondrous wife.
No Icarus to fly and melt in drawing hot while narrowing near
It's but a dying star yet keeps melodic magic sung in echoes ear.
by Edlynn Nau
Categories:
surfs, imagery, journey, mythology, stars,
Form:
Alliteration
Dedicated to my friend and fellow Souper, Jannie Breedt
Ocean-born wave rhythms rock their roll
just as motions my own soul does extol
since first we seascaped soul to soul.
From your African, violent, dust bowl
straight to my United States’ role,
joy surfs the tides making us whole.
Your expanse is constant inside my coral mind
as though our ebb and flow were cast entwined.
An ocean sees our coast lines combined.
Though our shared depths are confined,
our seawaters’ yang is surely aligned.
I sail my authentic towards your motion’s drift,
feel its sincere floatage dip down and high-lift.
Never do I rue an anchor of sea-worn shrift
turning shallow the depth of my sailed gift.
Our vibration rides the same sea of mapped calm.
You soothe my torrid zones as a salt-healing balm
might whip storms into the tranquility of a psalm.
Your grace and kindness of steady waves
fill my otherwise deep-sunken sea graves.
Bright life vests secure notes you sincerely toss afloat.
Our waters churn beyond human means of control -
they plunge and sweep as independently designed,
leaving us with merely sand’s feel to finger sift.
Yet my endless depths harbor no sinking qualm
for my intangible drownings, your tangible saves.
I am a better me with each beached, ocean note.
... CayCay
February 19, 2018
Categories:
surfs, dedication, friendship, giving, growth,
Form:
Rhyme
Terrifying tumultuous tremendous traumatic transaction
Horror in the towering splashes of ocean in howl
The vigilant lighthouse pounded by the surfs of annihilation
The huge and awful sea right now is on the untamed prowl
The shivering cold wind around the angry eyes of the hurricane
Has ruthlessly dispersed the deep waters in the ocean
Even dignity of the lighthouse is hit by the water insane
Before the surging rage of the waters in commotion
Do you listen to the roaring sea and crushing waves pounding the shores
Nothing else is visible nothing else is audible
Still don’t lose heart and look at the glistening hopes of the trusted doors
There the lofty lighthouse looks almost imperishable
This way nature heaves suddenly a deep sigh of suppressed grief
In these mad and angry growl of wild wind acts out nature
By ventilating its pent up anger it earns catharsis
From dark to light is the nature’s optimistic feature
_____________________________________________________________________
April 10, 2016
For the Poetry Contest : Sentinel Quatrain Form
Hosted by : Eve Roper
Categories:
surfs, adventure, anger, beautiful, conflict,
Form:
Quatrain
Where the water washes white surfs across
Sand banks porous with green dreams in our hearts
Where the sun surveys the wet desert of loss
The salt thread like blood stitching together our parts
Find me there wandering the wailing shores
I am a new citizen with ancient desires still
Living on the restless rim of of crinkled azures;
Watching history bleach my memory of will.
Here I pine to see my mother whole as I am
Here I pray for justice from the impaled lamb
This Caribbean sea that pens my rage in me
Water where my ancestors footsteps no imprints leave
Of vast voyages now void on the Atlantic lea
This Caribbean sea in modern voice I cannot grieve
My people sundered like a broken ship
Mastless, anchorless, drifting drumless on weed
My people bleeding from tongue lash and whip
And no Cudjoe, Tacky, or Boukman to intercede
I am a citizen of the rim, a place undefined
In the subtle representations where I'm maligned.
Here in this world of diverse languages and shade
Across the bloodless salt of shrivelled water we trade.
Categories:
surfs, historypeople, sea, water, people,
Form:
Verse
Mystic River
lazy mists dawdle
in sinuous rivulets ~
fog surfs in deep dales
river of white clouds
threads through alleys of tall pines ~
fog garden slow dance
curly silver mists
pale kisses on riverbanks ~
swirling shape-shifters
flat bottomed clouds float
wispy fogs tickle thunder ~
joy ride for cloud ships
mystic tule songs
gypsy brumes on evergreens ~
forest singalong
Categories:
surfs, river, sky,
Form:
Haiku
Contest: Trilonette Contest Sponsor: Joseph May 6-21-23
#1
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
River of Clouds
Lazy mists dawdle through valleys,
Wending in a river of clouds,
Surfs deep dales on rising tides.
Silver curly-cue veils dally
On twisting rivers like a shroud -
Leaves a pale kiss on riversides.
Mystic Rom roams the pine alleys,
Gypsy brume evergreens beclouds,
Cryptic nomad without a guide.
Flat bottomed shades float like galleys,
Wispy fogs tickle thunderclouds
Stolen cloud ships on a joy ride.
Rising tule croons playful songs -
Alto whispers for a singalong.
Categories:
surfs, river, sky,
Form:
Rhyme
Sometimes when the calypso music explodes
Shards of memories glistening with my pain
My heart like a rhumba box sits silent again
Where slow surfs lap granite doors, genius erodes
The barriers that dreams could stream and rise
Like sprays fogless flowering the coastal skies.
And as academics meander through misty thoughts
Turning to me, inviting my precision of words
I am in the web of comparisons caught, herds
Of histories shepherdless now in stagnant paths
Tremble in the shivering winds of changes here
I represent the hopes anchored in ancient fear.
My education did not come the common way
But from libraries and borrowed books I took
The knowledge that in high schools would hook
No test, using baitless syllabus to stairs the day
Upward from ghetto streets and gang embrace
Scholared by ambition, I get my college place.
I am a kite today, with my string grounded still
In sugarcane fields of happiness, loud streets
Where sellers hawk their wares and love meets
Twinkling eyes, signals to a secret fruiting hill
Where school-less days I set my mind to change
The arguments that listed you and I as strange.
Categories:
surfs, educationeducation,
Form:
Verse
A fuddled mind surfs through tides.
Harboured, she sits by the sea doing nothing.
Her toes make electric touch with the water
Restless currents ... spark the sand.
She could see the ocean break into two parts.
Did the Ocean have a heart?
She had salt in her tears..
She had pepper in her eyes..
The briny breeze..why was it so bitter?...
She knew... she was a Cheater.
He had a heart of ocean.
A treasure of glowing pearls within.
She had pushed him off the coast of Trust.
He was shipwrecked by her deceit.
The tail of the Mermaid was hidden.
He could see only half her face.
Tranquil in innocence and ignorance..
He was blind to the treacherous disgrace.
Etched by the smouldering Tsunami
An island imprisoned her stranded.
The Mermaid drowned and drowned..
in the sea of encumbrance...
she thought...
Is there a second chance?
3rd November 2018
Tell me a story 2 poetry contest
Sponsor Brenda Chiri
PLACED SIXTH IN CONTEST
Categories:
surfs, beach, feelings, forgiveness, heartbreak,
Form:
Free verse
This All Could Be
AtTractions of the urban surfer,
ExHibits at the shored enclaves,
AbIde the faithful their sole journey,
BaSking rays of summer's retreat,
CoAstal clutter of crowds roll on,
CeLebrities of the day made true,
LuLled breaks in surf even the tide,
NeCks swivels as eyes scouts the beach,
GoOd times are roaring inland,
MoUnting waves indulges the brave,
DeLving surfs stirs the underwater sands,
DaD's and mom's diligently relaxed a tad,
InBounds revitalize the distracted weary,
EvE set in submission of the day's exchange.
2019 September 04
*3rd Place*
Pick A Title, Vol 8 - Acrostic
~~Edward Ibeh
3. This All Could Be
Categories:
surfs, 12th grade,
Form:
Acrostic