Clear at the edges, I can see every ripple of sand on the bed of the ocean as I swim.
Towards the centre of the beach the sea becomes opaque,
The sand churned up by the waves and the greater depth obscuring the bottom.
Then, as I reach the far end of the bay it becomes clear again:
Small shifts in the miniature dunes beneath
With each gentle wave
Flurries of sand, stirred up then settle down again
Tiny fish the colour of the sea bed, zip along the bottom
Zig-zagging in groups of two or three
Visible only because of their small black eyes
I raise my head and see the small cape rise above me
The rocks the same colour as the sand beneath
And the same colour as my skin
The deep dark greenery covering much of the face of the rock
Lush and impenetrable, to me at least
Though I know that snakes and ground birds and insects thrive there
To be surrounded by this much joy and life
To feel permeate my being.
Categories:
churned up, beauty, inspirational, nature, sea,
Form: Free verse
I Tried to Unlearn
……. his name , his face, his memory
but each morning they kept resurfacing;
rubber ringed feelings that would not sink
no matter how hard I pushed down.
So I journeyed to places
that had rooted our relationship:
The park where the broad-shouldered oak
unwrapped delicacies of intimate memories
then leaning in much closer
it shared a consolatory shadow.
The river that coiled past
churned up affectionate thoughts
then rippled onwards to twist back
with a scornful smirk that made fun of me.
The café where he teased
about expressoing our shared ideas
and consolidating coffee compatibility.
Then on the butterfly wings of symmetry
our relationship seemed to fly to new heights
but was I another Icarus on a solo flight?
So the past that I had plucked at
offered no signs of warning, no signals of regret;
sadly the present, the here and now,
yields no guidance on how to….. forget.
Ian Souter
Categories:
churned up, lost love, relationship,
Form: Free verse
An empty closet and cliffhanger
A gift to little George,
A member of Windsor Castle.
Mood, over mindfulness ,
They are riverine songs
Moody, churned up
Uncertain and floral
Rejoicing whence
The turbid and morbid
Glum and glee
And a morn and
A corn
These all are
Cosmos and a cosmic
Emotions are changing textures
Where these all are
Changing surface
On an eggplant
The purple surface
Soothes
Where the goosebump
Of the green begins
A goosebump and a texture
An empty closet are lonely wool, woolen warmth
Yesterday and a bobbling
Runs along, unsung
Over boards the present,
Tense and I
All infuses and surges
To surmise
Greetings again
Hungover a softer sky
And a luminous, chandelier
Even though an uneven sky.
Categories:
churned up, best friend,
Form: Free verse
Then, they were but thirteen.
It was about Freedom.
Blazing trails in cold haze.
Sailing away breezin.
See a fade on airwaves.
In tune with the season.
Through a sheer picture frame,
Shines, clear light of Reason.
Yet, are they not concerned
What effects come after?
Total war in Ukraine
Is global, Disaster.
A known ruse sworn as proof.
Has churned up such chatter.
Can any blameless spurn,
The shameless Bad Actors?
Wicked men let it burn.
The millions sacrificed,
Simply, do not matter.
Will they never discern?
Then, they were but thirteen.
It was about freedom.
Now independence weeps.
With the tear drops of greed.
Categories:
churned up, analogy, appreciation,
Form: Dramatic Verse
I attended three sermons in a row
In the neighborhood church on Jackson.
Tear dropped there too, on the quran of mine, sky-blue colored
And on the cover of the hymn prayer book, it strangely rhymed.
Sermon,
On Fridays and Sundays
Are they two unknown roads of Robert Frost?
Equally worn out? Equally taken along frequency?
So that strangers are mostly certain about the Tan, Sine and Cosine?
After an incessant rain , we could tell each other a tale , stopping, “Reign!”
Parentheses are like a memorandum of understanding, priorities of your own.
Papyrus,
After 5 pm, if they all there turn color blind to moo moo all the cows!
Cows that can type, and can create superb hypes!
I pressed, paused and neglected my churned up pasteurization
As for now,
Meaningful work-life -balance will do a sieve analysis, as per annum
Soup egg drops in an ocean of lemon grass
To make a way
As the cook was befitting!
Does not matter anyway, better leave her precious to leave or granted to go!
Silence is gold at times, and dollar values are poisons!
In-Activity or Inactivity
A silence knows the fairest reason!
Categories:
churned up, april,
Form: Free verse
Salam wrote a letter, O my beloved motherland
Rafik wrote his letter to you,
And Barkat did that too
We could not mourn in oblivion, for all, they
Still, they will never be forgotten, they sacrificed
Never to be left alone, in oblivion.
Remembrance
leading us to the tragedies of lives along the way, blood on a pitch black hue
Made the petals the strongest red, flowers , on a fateful tale
And chrysanthemum knew those pages with alphabets, soaked and dripped
The alphabets of Bangla,, a fathomless tear , an oceanic droplet
impeccable, unpairable
and the legacy ponders along
Name engraved on a bloody fateful day
A drop of red on a churned up green
And the world, a wanderer of the last cause of a value, a journey , a saga
an epic started on a gothic day with a bloodshed , stubbornly fateful.
you and I and they, wanderers of ages in legacies of time
Will remember along,
In a page, that lingers through the stories of time
To be born again, in eternal time.
acknowledgement:
A patriotic song of Bangladesh
Categories:
churned up, february, metaphor, nostalgia,
Form: Free verse
Strewn upon the shoreline, as I traipse along the beach
Bits and pieces of life forms, churned up from beneath
Shells, jellyfish, crustaceans, a mix of sea anemones
What was alive yesterday, lies dead between torn weeds
Take a second to absorb, let these observations sink in
No creatures other than humans, came here to think
Many have walked this path, perhaps went for a swim
Now I only see gulls, pulling starfish limb from limb
Sitting pensively upon the sand, drawing in rigid breaths
I ask God, what’s life all about, come on please confess
A voice in my head speaks, people are the chosen ones
I’ve witnessed this very moment, before our universe begun
Still nothing was ever planned, when all is said and done
I see what’s going to happen, you’ll decide how it comes!
Footprints Old or New for a Prize Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Carolyn Devonshire
28/04/2021
An abridged revised version of
my poem, Footnotes in the sand
Categories:
churned up, allusion, creation, god, life,
Form: Rhyme
I hate it when my head is lost in the dark place,
When my feelings get churned up, and I'm cold,
Maybe it's just the fact I'm getting older,
Or is it the dark place getting more bold,
In the dark place I tend to be outspoken,
Speak my mind, not caring what it cost,
Is there someone out there that understands me?
Or am I the only one thats feeling lost?
Categories:
churned up, anxiety, depression, emotions,
Form: Verse
In the sky the moon is but a sliver.
Amidst pondering thoughts I begin to shiver.
Something's there stirring from deep within.
Mingling around the contents of this lonely den.
A shadow is casting there upon the wall.
Peering over the edge to watch the waterfall.
Visions of roaring tides over jagged stones.
Noisily shutting out the long silenced moans.
Whispering sweet promises the howling wind as cover.
While stepping those stones across one to another.
Lightening strikes and the thunder does crack.
A tremendous whirlwind of a storm on the attack.
Though every step taken be calculated and nimble.
All caught up in the storm and starting to trimble.
Glaring defiantly in the face of the churned up tide.
There's courage in not running back to the other side.
© written by Scarlett Sepulvado 3/4/2016
Categories:
churned up, inspirational, moon, nature, strength,
Form: Rhyme
Dripping emotions end
When dripping emotions end up in stare,
all churned up humour, fuming breaths of flair,
Subtle shreds of heart foresee no mend,
a waning smile these tender pieces pretend,
Shuddered by endless tides of strife,
evanesced the faintest melody of my life,
Plethora of thoughts and broken threads,
rests tranquil the soul, at deepest beds,
Expressions of ache, in vivid colours carved,
no twinkle in eyes, my looks are scarred.
Written Sept 15th, 2016
For contest "All the little pieces"
Sponsor- Broken wings
Entered for "Contest 203 any form max 14 lines" by Brian Strand
Categories:
churned up, break up,
Form: Rhyme
Worn wood, chipped paint, cartilage of rust
Salt air from sea churned up like dust
Fine moisture spray, steep emerald swell
Liquid folds to crush a creaking shell
I just want you to speak again
I just want you to walk again
I just want you to love again
I just want you to be again
A Day to Remember
Simple morning sun can warm the breeze
Simple morning rush can kill the day
Weapon of fate it fills her eyes
Her tender motion screeched to still-life
I just want you to speak again
I just want you to walk again
I just want you to love again
I just want you to be again
Always to Remember
I just want you to speak again
I just want you to walk again
I just want you to love again
I just want you to be again
Crumbling walls, decaying floor
His breath on fire, heart hollow
Merciful whisper’s all he needs
Love lights the path and he will follow
Listen to this as a song!
http://www.soundclick.com/bands/page_songInfo.cfm?bandID=41813&songID=12437887
_
Categories:
churned up, loss,
Form: Epigram
Night-time wanderer led asunder
Snarls voice my carnivorous hunger
Feral gait; silent under the thunder
A corpse would cause the village to wonder
A corpse completely drained of blood
Pooled inside my mouth like a flood
Beneath it; barely churned-up mud
The body fell with a gentle thud
From the thirst, momentarily free
Echoing in my mind; the dead man's last plea
His body tossed into the sea
So the murder couldn't be traced back to me
Every cold case began somewhere...
Categories:
churned up, death, mystery, sea, body,
Form: I do not know?