Best Wetsuit Poems
Kite-Surfer prepares for his thrilling ride
With double-checked gear, wades into the tide
Observer sits noticing all that’s around
And sees the direction where’s Kite-Surfer’s bound
Like an outgoing message that’s waiting to send
Kite-Surfer is patient, then catches the wind
Observer sits calmly beachside near the trees
From safe distance he knows more than Kite-Surfer sees
Soon, he in the water takes off like a flash
But direction of winds can never long last
Change in conditions, The Observer sees
From breeze on his face and the movement of trees
Kite-Surfer in wetsuit, armored head to toe
Cannot know direction of the next blow
And so he must catch the wind swiftly by feel
Attachment to moment seems all that is real
But never is able to choose any course
Like a passenger on a wild unbridled horse
And if judgement falters, momentum is lost
He sinks to his neck, failure could be the cost
When he’s low in the water, his only ambition:
To capture the wind and continue that mission
Watching bold Kite-Surfer safe from the beach
The Observer surely knows much they could teach
Vantage point lets Observer see mistakes
That Kite-Surfer made before leaving long wakes
The one who sits beachside, safely observing
Is totally void of all longing or yearning
Not caring which direction the wind blows
He watches Kite-Surfer like someone he knows
If you find yourself sunk, at the end of your rope
And the sky seems to fail you, one should not lose hope
Instead change your view
As if you’re outside you
And witness your actions like you’re far away:
A perspective-shifting game we can play
Detaching your ego, dissolving all fear,
Put yourself out there instead of being here
Seeing bigger picture can make one clairvoyant
Like Observer helping Kite-Surfer stay buoyant
Categories:
wetsuit, 9th grade, earth, endurance,
Form:
Rhyme
Desert blown mystic mist,
tumbling sands of roving sun,
shadows tell your passing,
with dunes though never one.
The grain upon a lizard tail,
tale of reptile life,
brushed to killing hawk feathers,
gecko blood on beak like knife.
Soaring sand child seaward,
drop from thermal height,
roll among the mighty waves,
be part of ocean's might.
Stuck upon a surfer,
sliding clean into the blue,
ride a wetsuit hanging car,
shimmer in sunshine, I saw you.
Contemplation of the sands,
music of the travelled few,
captured second of the eye,
poetry's unravelled view.
©D.N.Read 2013
Categories:
wetsuit, travel,
Form:
Free verse
If we have to see the fishes closer
and immerse ourselves under the surface of things
I put on the wetsuit
The diver's paraphernalia
And I let myself go to obscure distances
And think no more at the air, which usually
fill my lungs …
I am a ludion suspended in waters
Tickled by shoals of fish that roam
Caressed by jellyfishes, eager for a country ,
One above, which they are not allowed
As I am no longer allowed for sunlight
So low, beneath tons of moving liquid.
That is, across the border turbulent waves,
A reserved area, where the feeling of feet wouldn’t be enough
And that includes me, and swallows me
Like all the certainties of dry floor …
And cuttlefish lend me their naval ink
Writing for the memory of the abyss,
The silent vrombissemnt of orcas passing
The strange lanterns of monkfishes
And the maze of colorful corals and anemones
Dancing with the warm currents
Barely the memory of man
And an oblique wreck, portholes with crimped
Shells and rust, with its scale
Hanging on the railing of useless.
Categories:
wetsuit, absence, deep, earth, fish,
Form:
Free verse
dive into green sea
swim in green wetsuit a tease
green island green dreams
Categories:
wetsuit, appreciation, green,
Form:
Haiku
Mara’s hair colour touched by time, her voice hedged—struggling to find its way to me
She had once tried to kill herself.
My flippant thought: Did you succeed?
She looked as she had.
An abandoned relic, bopped-up, surfacing
in her drenched memories—Arbeit macht frei.
The stench of horror clings to her bare flesh,
worn as a wetsuit of near death,
unwashable, unforgettable—always present,
dragging survivors in its spiral of dark desires.
Dipped in death like Lazarus.
One of many Juden,
Spun into the spindle of time
then woven back
into living memory.
Her lips caressed the porcelain rim of a teacup,
allowing her stream of consciousness to flow.
Each sip of thought occupied her scornful solitude.
The cozy, blanketed a tempest of hate,
steeping in a strong pot of paranoia.
A sole survivor, thinking of her great-grand children at the Supernova Sukkot Gathering.
Are they alive?
No word.
Memories placed her on life’s off-ramp,
detouring to the deadened horrors—rising
from the ashes of the Topf & Söhne ovens.
The gas shower of angst traded fears for tears,
fingerless gold rings of love and devotion—
marked as counters of the untold bathers.
Death, hunger and torture, the triple tyranny
of genocide that took her family—people.
Vanquished, now the vanquisher.
Ceaseless revenge inflicted over and over again.
Global tides of sympathy and empathy recede.
Justice silently struggles to calibrate towards
the untempered horror as horror begets horror.
Gaza openly parallels into a concentration camp.
Categories:
wetsuit, grandmother, grief, holocaust, irony,
Form:
Free verse
One day and one space bar later an irrational iguana put on a wetsuit and some roller skates and left the house. He met with his friends on the way who were waiting at the shop. They were bug eyed swamp who was a squalid squid who squirted herons for a living, the jackdaw juggler whose skills had won many awards worldwide, and the reedy red robust rooster whose crowing could be heard from the moon. They were all dressed in wet suits. They entered the shop and bought an array of drinks and snacks and body boards and surf boards. As well as goggles and flippers. Then they made their way down the sunset road towards the busy beach. Their arrival sparked interest from lounging semi clad pouting puffa fish whose bikinis left little to the imagination. "Later" said the iguana to his friends who were ogling the cakes on display. Then after lecherously looking the friends dashed into the waves. Up and down the waves they went. With such fine agility that passing dolphins sharks whales and fish clapped and sang approving and congratulatory songs of sea to them. When the sun began to set they returned to the beach. And drank their beverages and ate their snacks accompanied by all the semi clad cakes. They lit a fire and had a party. Then walked the semi clad cakes up the mountain pass to the home of meal worm mansion. There they all stayed. Staying sharpens sea setting standing striping striking stroking stuff. And a pile of towels jump around in glee. Rubbing their hands together. Wow. Such an story should be retold in an operatic style in a theatre. A va mi no lono ima ima de. Said the hallway table. Then it was time to sleep. Goodnight. Z at two to three marbles to twelve circulating crystalline plates. X iconographic Z Z AT
Categories:
wetsuit, art, assonance,
Form:
Sweater than honey love may seem
Its reality,bitter than ever imagined
A rain of happiness we suppose
it showers
Great floods of sorrow accompany
its arrival
It can be a trusted guard to your path
It can also be the terrorist blocking
your escape
It can be the perfect healer to your
heart's wounds
It can also be the antidoteless poison
darkening your heart
It can be your anticipated beautiful
Spring
It can also be the sad Autumn after your
Spring
Love can actually make you whole
It also owns the power to break you all
In its hand lies the jurisdiction to
reformation
At its fingertips resides the sway to
deformation
Beware!The sea of love is a dangerous
one
Great and mighty are the tides to combat
You can either drown,or you can survive
The latter is almost impossible,not really
impossible
Clothe yourself with the wetsuit of patience
It keeps you going throughout the tides
Guard your heart with the lifejacket of
perseverance
It keeps it afloat not to drown in pain
Categories:
wetsuit, encouraging, irony,
Form:
Free verse
Nature made convenient sluice,
when pool water did wend
down the gentle slope
describing gargantuan wetsuit vend
er steadily chugging, chiseling,
and channeling straight away
blindly coursing upend
ding (mankind imposed)
property boundaries demarcations tend
with futile diligence,
asper the whimsical barenaked lady's
propensities, viz mother nature
made short shrift send
ding hours of surveyor labor down
into the behavioral sink also rend
ding inhabitants within the flood plain
to vacate premises and return,
when storm didst abate
comically shaking angry fist
at darkening non sheltering sky -
faux imitating to berate
meteorological processes
many complex systems create
the downpour seemingly
appearing (to me) rainier date
then years gone by scattershot memories,
(which figurative, somewhat unreliable
yardstick of boyhood) did equate
climate affecting
Southeastern Montgomery, Pennsylvania,
registering *****sapiens ultimate fate
burgeoning population, which impact great enough
for this lix spittle country bumpkin to ejaculate
(not prematurely) Hawaii hate
to reckon my environmental impact doth irritate
fragile ecosystems, and
holistic lifestyle aye would trade
(hint...mebbe ya know
of eco-centric intentional communities)
even (yes absolutely)
necessitating sweat of brow spade
work agreeable to this sometime joker
renting from management Grosse and Quade,
who primarily bolster increasing monies to get paid,
perhaps partnership incorporates hiring maid
service for their own households,
no doubt beds get properly made
yet, this regular John Doe (dependent on
social security disability because
debilitating panic attacks undermined
ability to function found (yours truly) laid
up (prior to acquiescing strong suggestions
to accept prescription medication), where grade
to cope much less steep, plus un huff frayed,
now rowing tha old skiff to destination
for to long not fostered and delayed
(christened matthew scott harris) to feign charade
nod duh so merrily lee down the time stream.
Categories:
wetsuit, 10th grade, 11th grade,
Form:
Free verse
Rip Tides
Dead serious this depression business rocky murky
with tides like a tsunami suggesting certain
drop zones
that kill
No swimming but drowning lead weights in my heart and no
wetsuit for balance and buoyancy no compass the currents are
dragging me
out and down
Inner pirates lure away from the shore and most of all
from my Self little devils like giants amplifying
what is there
and what is not
The lighthouse is dim and yet irritating a stroboscope racing
torched thoughts spin in endless loops and blinding flashes on
automatic pilot in
steady apathetic inertia
24th July 2018
Categories:
wetsuit, depression,
Form:
Epitaph
Had 6 she did. One at a time.
Worried about one…most of the time.
One had their own set of rules too.
Early on realized school was a bore.
Overnight a scouting uniform turned into a wetsuit.
It takes much longer to turn a wrench into a paintbrush.
Seems absconding normalcy is fun to do and watch.
A mother’s bewilderment turns to understanding.
Categories:
wetsuit, mother,
Form:
She cuddled in a signature pose
That resembled the 'one-hug' position
Arms wrapped around her disoriented and confused body
Pulling her skin covered torso into the black sheath
To her demise and surprise
Her situation was on the path to corrosion
Her shape was forced to contort and align
In ways she never thought of
The set of legs seemed not to attach
To the position juxtaposed to the malformed uneven arms
One longer than the other?
Squeezing her entire self into this rubber encasement
She was exasperated and running out of enthusiasm
So she drifted to allow her subconscious thought
To believe she was some malformed figure of a seal
About to utilize its deviated, grotesque, twisted flippers
Before she entered the water it became a struggle
Just to simply walk in this captive suit to the oceans edge
Upon her arrival she found her surfing buddy
Laughing uncontrollably with loud cackles and chortles
That turned into a roar as he fell to his knees
As she asked for his help to close the zipper he said:
"Your right arm is in your left leg,
And your left leg is in your right arm!!"
And thus a true story of my first time surfing.
September 5, 2019
Ten Word Challenge 1 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Kai Michael Neumann
Categories:
wetsuit, confidence, fun,
Form:
Narrative
The river is notorious
For filth and trash and slime,
With rumors of dead bodies floating
Once upon a time.
I’ve witnessed homeless people
Dumping urine (maybe worse)
Into water which you’d think
No normal person would immerse.
Yet yesterday I spotted both
A kayak and a boat
Which were following a swimmer
Stroking hard to stay afloat.
Baring skin as white as chalk
(No wetsuit acting as a shield),
She proceeded through the current,
Her emotions well-concealed.
For if she felt some revulsion
Or exuberance or fear
Maybe all her concentration
Helped to make them disappear.
As we watchers on the promenade
Did marvel in our masks
I reflected on how people are
So varied in their tasks.
Categories:
wetsuit, new york, river,
Form:
Rhyme
there's something intrinsically poetic about lists…
1.
bread (wholemeal)
twelve eggs
solar panels
occasional frogs
corporate lawyers
steam
2.
onions (red)
tomatoes (finely chopped)
garlic (four cloves)
fireman's ladder (aluminium)
disparity (secretly hidden)
mildness (abundant)
gluttony (almost definite)
mozzarella (abridged)
3.
clean sink
dirty sink
point un-necessarily
wear wetsuit and carry surfboard in populated area
shirk responsibilities
vacuum dog
hide
reappear (nearly palindromic)
borrow an eagle
book car in to be painted yellow
buy a bucket
start new list
Categories:
wetsuit, fun, funny, humorous, life,
Form:
List
Above the Melting Ice
Soft white skin, taut and smooth.
Insulated from the Arctic cold,
Snuggled warm in its wetsuit, he sleeps.
Protected from predators,
Camouflaged as a mound of snow,
Ignoring sounds of cracking and popping.
Each inhale releases, exhales,
The slightest shift in movement,
Flippers anchored to his round form.
Slow to stir, he scratches.
Returning to the place of now,
Covered in quiet contentment.
Coal-black eyes scan the horizon,
Nourished by the bounty within the icy waters,
Effortless, he slips into the abyss.
A place of serene silence,
Embraced by the essence of life,
Peaceful, pristine, perfect.
I too must remember,
The embrace of life’s essence,
Living above the melting ice.
Categories:
wetsuit, 10th grade, 9th grade,
Form:
Free verse
“Failure is an option, but fear is not.” —James Cameron
stuff into your wetsuit
strap on your BCD
from your regulator take two sips
excited you should be
we’re gonna scuba
in Aruba
(did you say Cuba?)
I said Aruba
stare at the horizon
big step into the fray
double fist tap o’er your head
shows them you’re ok
we’re gonna scuba
in Aruba
(did you say Cuba?) No!
I said Aruba
remember safety scuba
PADI rule of thirds a must
never hold your breath
or your lungs will surely bust
we’re gonna scuba (Yeah!)
in Aruba
(did you say Cuba?) No!
I said Aruba
finally we descend
enchantment ‘neath the waves
turtles, eels, stingrays, sharks
scenes that mankind craves
we’re gonna scuba (Yeah!)
in Aruba
(did you say Cuba?) No!
I said Aruba
we’re gonna scuba (Yeah!)
in Aruba
(did you say Cuba?) No!
I said Aruba. Yo!
.~.~.~
Final thoughts in quintuplet couplets:
Water’s calm with clear blue sky
Summertime is nigh
Be sure to check your regulator
You can always thank me later
No more time for any rhyme
Dive five meters to escape the skeeters
If your mortgage is underwater
Are you certified to dive?
Sea Hunt was a favorite show
It’s great to be alive
Categories:
wetsuit, adventure, fish, nature, ocean,
Form:
Rhyme