a unique soul speaks to me
and i respond
i am one with here
ears do not exist when our mouths speak
we take a walk until forever stops
listening is glistening
we are each other's Spotlight Blessing
we feel lighter as a direct result
soon it will be time to go
we decide to become defiant and say no
continuance is like body surfing on the most perfect, billowy cloud
we are the gold at the end of the other's rainbow, and for that we are ThankFull
You thought you had me by the hair,
While you tossed my heart
To and fro
Across a tennis court
Just because
I was your insurance policy
That you kept in your back pocket
Or so you thought
Until that frigid morning
I disappeared
Halfway across the globe
Just so I could
Untangle my long blonde hair
From the harsh grip
Of your twisted thoughts.
Maybe body surfing
Did the trick
Right into the salty waves
That slammed the soft sand
With a certainty
That right then
You became a history book
A scary chapter
That sealed itself shut
With a hammers blow
So that
I could never take a second look
While you thought
You had me by the hair.
The Thalassophile
It may seem a strange notion
But I must live near the ocean.
Darwin says we came from the sea
And that means very much to me.
I live in “The Ocean State.”
Proudly shown on my car plates.
Couldn't live in a state like Kentucky?
Those that do are very unlucky.
Their genes are more advanced than mine
Look in my ears - gills you might find.
Swam almost every day
Body surfing – great game to play.
Who can ride the wave farther?
If you miss the crest - don't bother.
Owned, made, and sailed small boats
Been on almost anything that floats.
Joined the Navy to board a war ship
Done the Atlantic and Pacific trip.
But all is not sublime
Living next to the salty brine.
With storms, floods, and hurricanes
Mind and body are put to strain.
But, Ah, the smell of salt sea air
Show me where and I will go there.
And if you like to fish
What more is there to wish.
There is no place better to be
Than living next to the sea.
The waves roared,
The sun smiled,
The sky was as blue as a diamond,
California is filled with so many adventures,
So many things to do!
The water warms my cold, wet body,
The sun dries my wet clothes,
Body surfing,
Relaxing,
beach days,
Summer waves,
California
Fog rolling in,
Making the sea go a gray,
Kid’s body surfing all day,
In a cold pacific bay,
The children are laughing,
To the sway,
Of the ice cold waves roaring away.
I hear my mom calling to me faraway,
To come back to shore,
And stay.
For I was tiring in this pacific bay,
Because of the numbing cold,
That could not let me stay,
In the icy water of this pacific bay.
Most days I go to the beach. I like to sit
in the warm sand and watch the waves.
Like a parking lot, the beach is heaving
with day trippers who have come to play.
Mostly I like to watch the body surfers,
as they maneuver and swim out brave.
I have known this rush of speed and foam
crashing over the tops of breaking waves.
But lately I prefer to sit and breathe,
and catch some whiffs of my long lost days.
Body surfing on the Atlantic Coast
A towering wave was headed my way
The challenge of which I sure planned to boast
Already I was thinking what I might say
Caught it far out, rode thirty feet toward shore
In four-foot water I rose joyfully
My friends on the beach were in an uproar
So I took a deep bow so gratefully
Just why my friends were going on and on
Gave me pause ‘cause it wasn’t my best ride
Against me a sleek figure brushed upon
Was stunned to say the least, I must confide
Had a dolphin chosen to ride with me?
‘Twas then I saw swimmers fleeing the sea
Just as the Coast Guard pulled me to safety
A shark revealed its hammerhead to me
*Entry for Joe’s “Twisted Minds” contest
From tiny gals with itty-bitty bippies
to larger ladies with super-dooper droopers,
we curse the “men” who design underwire iron maidens.
My “pointers” don’t bounce
(as a friend observed),
so why submit to torturous braziers?
I’m glad they don’t droop –
makes body surfing easier,
though surfboard owners argue, “Rudders help."
Despite chidings from my sister
(estranged now; I don’t miss her),
I saunter through life in comfort.
From 32A to 44 Triple-D,
who will stand unbridled with me
as we create a “bonfire of the vanities”?
On a huge wooden statue of Genghis Khan
we’ll place our bras – strap them on
and dance in a delight only primitive tribal ladies know.
You can add girdles,
chastity belts too,
and every foot-crunching pair of shoes.
On St. Patrick’s Day
we’ll march proud in a parade,
singing, “Erin, go braless” all the way!
Heavy undertow
Body surfing can be so fun
Rolling waves in the surf
By Robb A. Kopp
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.