The beach climbs are harder
the rocks turn my feet
and I find myself walking on my ankles
wading through sand
But the photos at sunset
or as the moon rise
are such a surprise
Like paintings
like fine art
witnessing the beauty of nature
as it shows us all of the basis for inspiration
everywhere
The sea air is so refreshing
the tang of salt
its cool crisp feel
as it laps past me
and blows my hair
The sheen of the sun and the moon
off the water
and it undulates and ripples
It's mesmerizing and beautiful
I seek out the lighthouse
to capture its beauty on the horizon
Its glow too settles on the ocean
and lights the scene in a way
that makes it seem like a painting
A huge downed redwood tree on the beach
a sculpture in driftwood now
but so big as to be a playground
The natural wonders of this place continue to provoke me
and keep me wanting more
from the tiny bits of rock on the ground
to the magnificent scenes in the sky
my senses are always tuned in
And here I share them with you....
Artimus 9/1/2025
be warmed be aware to those who mock the lord
the rules and regulations are there for a reason not scare
to those who believe be warned the weather has changed earth will quake
be sure take cover of forced to swim for the sea will come in and take what it wants by force repent while you can the laws change your world and state 5 or more people having the same dream same vesion no turning back tsunamis earthquakes even fires that are showing god's warning you heed the preacher i sent! came back to me where there's still time i will yet save you from this coming disaster
I don't desire mountains,
Nor do I desire coasts
But I hope when I knock your door, Death,
You would be a gracious host.
When I come to meet you Death,
I hope you would be kind.
And shoulder to carry me,
None I'd need to find.
I hope when I lay there,
There would be people who would listen,
And there would be some titles,
With which I would be christened.
I hope there would be someone,
To whom our separation would cause swan-like despair.
But I hope there would be enough memories,
To ease the pain they would have to bear.
And when I sleep forevermore,
There would be millions of days to cherish,
I hope there would be heights I had soared,
Making my name impossible to perish.
Then when I come to knock your door, Death,
You would be so kind,
That departing from my world, and greeting you
I wouldn't mind.
I don't desire mountains,
Nor do I desire coasts
But when I knock your door, Death
You would be a gracious host.
All alone is all i've ever been
miss when houses felt like a home
now more-so abandoned
as i walk around these ghost, derealization
now im on the west coast
starin at the ocean
reminds me of these flows
Melodies surfin
my skull got deep holes
here but driftin
mold the words no play-doh
in rhymes sinkin
realest never make the studio
like waves they driftin
built it up no lego
then the blocks crashin
catch em then let go
like a fishing passion
anytime i hold em too close
they begin dyin
then the water they stay afloat
and began rottin
or anytime i try to show
they're eaten by a moccasin
so i catch em then let em go
along this beach im walkin
In diving the coast off Aruba,
He thought he would play his best tuba.
The fish thought it odd,
The stingray said “Todd,
That isn’t the way to do scuba.”
Thou, goddess of the hearth, beloved of all,
My heart may hear, yet never heed thy call.
For I, who love Apollo, wise and warm,
Form shattered, died from savage, sea-swept storm.
And I shall never enter Asphodel
Until the sun shall strike this bitter swell.
Nor shall I leave, who learned to love this coast,
Until Apollo lights what longs him most.
Full well I know beyond a certain gate
Lies peace and comfort, and my friends of late;
I know these things, and yet I shall await.
And if forever hath the sun withdrawn,
Forever, then, I shall await the dawn.
Fabricated coast, they arranged a brigade
Aggregated to oppose, braving the waves
Saturated stones, awaiting decay
Exaggerated to juxtapose,
The real contained by the fake.
Professing control, they replaced the coast
Repressing the flow, sustained only to erode
Acquiescing the blows, an unstable repose
Depressing the both, the wave and the stone.
Carolina Coast
Nothing but stars in night sky
Could I grab them all?
looking into the horizon
I see things as they once were
all drawn in sharp colors and defined lines
now fading as time travels
from one point to the next
I see all in my dusty history
images tattered and bled into rust
once I remember now nothing but ghosts
looking into the horizon
along a barren coast
back along my encrusted misery
like pages in a book
tattered and worn
once drawn in lines of fire and brilliant hues
now all is a fading history
cheers from the bleachers
enveloped in raging storm -
exclamation points
landward painfully
the foaming furious waves -
depth focus motion
England our island, is being eaten by the sea bit by tiny bit,
In my life I am the island and as I age I'm feeling weaker and certainly less fit.
Our coast is slowly changing as it gets waten away,
My life is much like this, I feel like I am fading and I can feel my mind begin to sway.
The craggy cliffs that for centuries have protected us, have begun to crumble,
Sometimes I just feel lost and I feel like I just bumble.
Despite all of this England will endure,
And I guess I should think more positive and not sound like a bore!
On the cliff at the Worm’s Head
High above the horns of the bay
I see the surfers ride great waves
With horses’ manes
That ever fail, but never end
In the strong Atlantic surge
In the estuary at Dartmouth
Where the oyster boats dredge
Turning and drifting in slow shadow dance
Great nets of shells are hauled up
And poured out on to the decks
As I plunge upriver
Tacking along the wending Dart
With bent-puzzle oaks on either side
I hear a sudden hush descend
Upon a lonely river hythe
As time and air, smooth and still
Forever glide, like Mayflies
On cold, clear water
In the seaway by the port
With its unmistakable algal aroma
Of the British seashore
I hear the heavy horn of a freighter
That plies its path
And never sinks, yet ever diminishes
Beyond the waves
And far from the pier of the seaside town
Where sandpipers probe
In spiral casts
I hear the penthal call of the curlew
Like silver flourishes on a black cloud
That never moves, but holds dominion
In the cold morning air.
when we brag and boast
be about beautiful coast
which we love the most
Squirrels in the tree
Storm rumbling in the distance
The sky bright orange
Halogen hesitant glide incubates baskers
Hush worship horizontal, roasting rascals
Trust flail arms gleeful face of jack in box
Toast salt pepper toes opposed to office socks
Lopsided sway scintillates sea rolls repeat
Lumen seduce dons haughty top-hat heat
Haven from seasons, sunbathed succumb
Hourglass conserve curdles cold’s equilibrium
23rd June
Sultry Surfers Paradise
in unfelt Solstice
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