Best Undertows Poems
you want to know a secret
when I write a poem and it's perfect
i dont share it
i bury it
deep inside of me
where no one else can see
i mean its perfect
not like this shift
it's elegant, poignant,
simplistic, bueatful
trucking perfect
its not erotic
but i read it
mentally masterbate to it
a euphoric chorus
straight form thesaurus
its just that great
im not being egotistical
if read, it would become universal
a meter tethered in clasical measure
a rythmic flow
with many metaphoric undertows
an iconic harmonic tonic
to make you feel like an embryonic hedonic youth
im not being napoleonic
its an actual truth
factually accurate
high in heaven
it produced a tear in the eye of god
who proclaimed
not a single flaw
not a single flaw
and he only saw what i wrote
well, because hes god
me being me i like to tease
allow me to be inclined to share a few lines
blow your mind
redefine your collective defective perspective
realign your ineffective respective connective tisue
"all my cows milk is homogenized
all my crows are well organized
all my sheep like to stare and creep
like to stare and creep"
but you'll never see
the rest of my secret poetry
that only exsist inside of me
cows will always moo
crows will always ka kah
sheep will always go baah baah baah
and the perfect elagance
of my literary inteligence
will die with me
never being seen
qouted, memorised or plagerized
as i will say with my last gasp
the next line being twice my last
all you super-duper-soupers can kiss my ***
ok all you super-duper-soupers have been slammed. if you want to slam me back just a few things. make it funny. make it a little nonsensical and definitly make it over the top
and if you do slam me back send me a soup mail or leave a comment so i can go read your slam.
Cotton And White Clouds
Cotton squeezes spongy soft in sanguine undertows
Flows calmly through the gentle fingers slow
Babies feel them caress their tender skin and sigh
Thin fibers rise to weave a dream of pure new white
Through their tiny minds as they recline to nap
Invisible oceans come and wash thoughts clean
Clouds envy them within the realm of reason
Sleeping on blue skies like baby silent whispers
Marshmallow mountains of ghostly fluff move up above
Over the innocent bundles of pure love
Clean and clear, floating ever slowly
Evaporate as they draw close
Tranquil cotton finds white clouds in heavenly repose
Blissful just like Christmas snow
Before they disappear
No Anchor for Rancor
Wounded the ship of my soul,
With tattered sails,
Heels up in malevolence,
Venom puffs out the jib
In leeward grudges of tactless spite
On a pointless reach
Heading up into retaliation.
Heart hardened sends out a deep tap root,
Like a dagger board,
For my blustering hubris
To drop an anchor and moor animosity
In a portage of perpetual whirlwinds
With undertows of enmity
Crashing about in irons of spite.
Yet steady winds rise up
And I must come about
Heading into prevailing winds
Then journey through hubris doldrums,
Sails filled fresh with newborn winds,
Orphaning rancor - breathing in forgiveness -
Sailing beneath full sails of resurrection
1423 10-29-25 Thank you Daniel for your inspiration
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
1423
caught in undertows
depression hunts like a beast ~
one more empty chair
The elliptical sea, ageless, timeless without fathoms depth
Of the eternal degree, its finite waves ushering against the
Everlasting shore of tranquility’s rush, a liquid vacuum of inner
Special waves, crashing against the coral rife of life itself.
Beneath serenity's surging, under the undertows splashing,
Lies a world within a world, beauties sacred personified,
Swimming in this elliptical sea, of the ageless, the timeless,
Without fathoms depth of the eternal degree, behold the
Immortals of this aquatic special zone.
In the silence stirs the vibrate light of mystery, in brilliance
Disturbance hides enchantments ledges, swirling ascendants
Diving within reflecting beams of solar flares, mingling amongst
The tail endings of comet dust, and purging the surface breaking
The wake nature’s stillness.
Galactic mermaids snapping their flippers at the rings
Of Saturn, gliding mariners obsorbing the heat from
The white dwarf sun, and bathing in the cooling pools
Of forgotten moons.
Drinking from the icicles hanging from the big dipper handle,
Feasting at the bouquet table of the thunder gods mighty
Shore line’s shoals blackened waters, exist this twilight
Beings of beauties most fare.
Thrown are nets of imagination, cast away are the
Vessels sail of inspiration, materializing admits the
Stormy wake of gale force winds, a universal
Hurricane and I a lone captain striving, to capture
It’s tidal beauty by quiled inks pen.
I’m on a ponders vision quest, searching for perfection,
Yet lost without sextons credence, this dream seeker,
Can only worship these immortals by thoughts provision,
Left in isolation's dreaming realm, swimming amongst
The solar mermaids, in this eternal sea, ageless, and
Timeless without fathoms depth of degree.
BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
Each day he felt the distance growing,
separating him from where and who
they thought he should want to be.
Though he was adrift in the currents
of prevailing winds, he felt the pull
of strong undertows -- and he didn't know
to which he should acquiesce
or against which he should struggle.
He neither acquiesced nor struggled.
"Didn't he think he should shave, shower
regularly, get a hair cut, lose weight,
shine his shoes, change clothes,
and show up early?
Shouldn't he set an example?"
He wanted to imagine a "but"
to refute apparent logic,
could do no better than to scribble
description which drifted across
the pad, influenced by other
undertows. He tried to last, having
once believed in the universal
flux, but could no longer. Finally,
he avoided mirrors and others'
eyes, kept to the rooms' darker
corners, and no longer engaged
in conversation -- not even with himself.
All is still in deceptions abyss,
Beneath fathoms deep, aquatic,
Wolves are on the hunt.
Stealth predators unseen, unheard,
Hanging on the fringe of detections,
Outer limits.
In plain black and white,
Behold a deadly beauty personified,
Intelligence next step in evolution.
These devils of the bluest depths,
Known as the Orca.
Chameleon's blending between shadows
Darkness,
And the suns rays penetrating,
From above.
Waiting in the quite shallows,
They hide in anticipation,
For the right moment to strike.
Titans Krakens, await for the first
Signs of weakness in their prey.
Together pack mammals work,
Combing talents to best formulate,
A strategy for the imminent attack.
Upon life's rookery a chilling,
Silence falls.
Young seals sleek and fast,
Taste freedom's excitement,
With wonderment's exhilaration,
To finally be on there own at last.
The open ocean calls to them,
Come challenge my waves,
Youthful innocence, boldly splash
Amongst surf and spray.
Yet beware thy kindred spirits,
Those whom seek the unknown,
May pay a high price of flesh,
And bone.
But these young pups hear the
Siren’s voices,
And heed not the warning tone.
Sliding instead into the icy waters
Cold embrace.
The undertows current carry’s them,
Towards the coral reef.
Deadly jaws haunt the tidal rift's,
Rough jagged edge,
It is a gruesome rule of survival.
Few new yearling return unscathed,
Some don't return at all.
The arch angels of death must take,
Their poundage of flesh.
With a grinning smile,
Natures perfect killing machines,
The wolves of the deep, await the
Next bloody hunt.
With hungry eyes anticipation,
Tasting satisfactions mouthwatering
Bites yet to come.
BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
From the womb I sprung forth in a storm unrelenting
waves crashing ashore, endless bending and blending
alone and defenseless to weather the tempest
the gales blew relentless, clouding my senses
Set adrift in that sea of the knowledge of man
attempting to stand, felt around with bare hands
plunged deep in the waters, searching for others
consciousness faltered, eyes closing shutters
Then I had awakened to find I'd been taken
to an archaic dwelling, time should have forsaken
a shaman commands- a glorious rant
a clasping of palms, an aggregate chant
From what source? I did wonder, descending to ponder
was ultimate wisdom derived and contrived
upon examination, and deep contemplation
I viewed this creation, with grim consternation
An anomaly present in each generation
a wise person born, elevated, and stationed
to higher position, with God given vision
Innate intuition brings truth to fruition
Mankind in collective, this most stubborn creature
materialism his central shared feature
twisting to suit them to there situations
killing the prophets- forging the nations
Undertows from life's currents did violently grab me
envelop and drag me, develop, distract me
manifesting unsettling neural connections
truth became slippery- changing directions
Somewhere through the ages our paths had diverged
wise words been perverted, and hatred emerged
devouring souls, then swallowing whole
foundations of kingdoms, rendering null
Vanishing, The Sky's Majestic Blue
Pristine views of sunset's glows,
Where sky flashes out its best,
No storming waters or undertows
Just beauty sinking in the west;
Nature wraps this scene in splendor,
Fading tree lines give gasps anew,
Day's demise a beautiful tail-ender
Vanishing, the sky's majestic blue.
R. J. Lindley,
AUG. 20TH 1986
As I gaze out upon the blue ocean,
from my perch, on the cliff above .
The incoming storm, hovers close by,
I am watching battering waves, smash
the rugged coastline shore below.
The blue waves blend with the distant blue sky.
The once sapphire ocean now becomes steel blue
As the storm rolls in, the ocean, ever changing hues.
The waves smash, blend and churn creating
Cauldrons of undertows merging with rips
Battering with a powerful gale force.
As lightning zig- zags across the deepened sky
I head for shelter from the incoming rain
Knowing I will return again to look at ocean blue.
Francine's contest- blue on blue on blue
Phyl the ocean
thanks Francine
Time's natural spaces,
a universe of footprints in remembered places.
Need kicks me in the ass
and head.
Trauma iafterflows,
undertows,
crashing carnage
with runaway horsepower.
Want is a branching step,
coincidentally left-producing and right-consuming
memory footprints on Earth's beach of time,
some more resiliently resonant
before erasing surf remerges,
and some less formed before washing into history's cultural flow
of confluent wild consciousness.
Time bilaterally steps through
sands of positive place in negative space,
resolving comprehensive consciousness.
Footprints in sands of trauma time
regenerate decomposing memory
within nature's wild chaos
outflowing rhyme.
Earthlings have no time
without sufficient stepping space
We experience rightful yin
without expelling wrongful yang
We co-arise no perfect vacuum
no perfect bad,
no perfect glad
save well-timed balance
in-between surfing appositionals
Bipedal potential
for comprehensive consciousness
in mind's harmonious heart
beating co-empathic lust for trust
informing and exforming lungs
fueled by nature's spirited intelligence.
Our shortages of universal healthy time,
our misconceptions about balancing wealthy walking space,
that
mislead to suicidal
patricidal
fratricidal
matricidal
ecocidal
tidal footprints into quicksand's chaos
Riptide's karmic grace
for recreating tomorrow's spacious beach
awaiting more transgenerative feet
and resonant heads,
bodies with minds
surfing seasoned time's
indigenous wisdom.
Time passionately flows
and enfolds frequent nature's voice
for each to hear with dissonant noise
while listening in keys of confluent choice.
Time's polypathic space,
universal footprints
in memory's unitarian place.
Little by little the waves of
negative remarks takes its toll.
My high tides of happiness...love of self...
and feelings of self worth have given way
to low tides of self doubt and fierce undertows
of insecurities...
which has sucked the life from within me.
Shells and pretty stones containing positive
self talk no longer find
their way to shore...replaced by brown foam...
pieces of broken crab shell...
with the stench of dead seaweed
permeating every cell.
I now realize I must take back my power
from those who I've allowed to take it.
The ones who seek to control me...
to fill me with pain and guilt...
to make me see myself as one with no value or worth.
The sun of realization has come out.
I begin the repair and reinforcement of
my spirits inner beach.
P.R. Deremer
Bridge
I whirl through moments etched upon my mind,
Sink through midnight layers where shadows creep,
Hear the rushing floods – no smooth waters find –
Crumbling day light eludes vesper’s sleep.
Solitude’s still waters boil – restless energy -
Rushing waves clog with flotsam discarded
For shores unreached – a rueful elergy -
Undertows of catacombs bombarded.
Shapeless forms from midnight sneer, then arise –
Frantic fear flails seeing in undertows
Vanishing edges but phantoms thin lies
Flee as new shafts of amber light now overflow.
Starshine resurrects from the hopeless night
A bridge between nightmares and true sunlight.
We sat aloft an isle dune
peering over the ocean,
waves mesmerizing
our inner turmoil,
grainy surf's implosions
pulverized ego's scope,
whilst voices turned hazy
wiping out equilibrium
midst broiling sun's psyche
washed back with
salt water tears,
there was no lighthouse
to guide a safe harbor
nor save disparate crests
no words reverberated sound,
just the floundering of
restlessly gritty emotions
that once were blissed horizons
before moon lost its balance
to relentless torrential currents
of neglectful destruction,
drowning in ambiguous undertows
Come, spirit, entice and dance with me
Let me embrace, be embraced by your look
And share your untold tales
Of seduction, conquest and decapitation,
For in your glitzy world
Shadows, bad omens
And eeriness all protrude
Oh, spirits, dance with me
A dance of hope and valor
Electrifying, gyrating, smooth of step
Into a lost world full of secrets
Oh yes, tease me, please me to the heights of ecstasy
Wild cravings now satisfied
Like a splendid feast to be digested
Come, spirits, for a moment let me forget
My compatriots, my world of undertows
Instead, expand the world of wonder
Mix the colors so that I may be inebriated
Yet I have not drunk; show me the bright path
With ease, like magic, an inner eerie world
Of souls so magnificent and spirits to lift me up
For I, too, love life and all its values
And, as I float upon the placid waves of wonderment
Let me land on safe shores and be welcomed
In spirit and in body with cool calmness,
Contemplative
Wondrous, joyous, amorous
Searching for the diamond of peace within