Coast Poems - Poems about Coast

Yo. From a whisper, barely a breath, to a front-page roar/ EAST COAST JAZZ in the fifties, sixties/ Not just blowing trumpets, but blowing up the jazz scene jazz/ LPs stacked high vinyl spinnin’, cracklin' truth in every hip-to-be way. Jazz LPs, popin'’ the Truth, etched in black and white/ modern Jazz on...

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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.” ...

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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...

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You can smell jazz, if you got hip to the sound, like on “Camera Three” a TV program in the 50s/ a 1956 episode featuring The Gerry Mulligan Quartet in black -N- white/ many jazz clubs come and go dimming their lights in the sunset glow/ fast food joints now line...

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(Verse 1 - Young) Yo, it's so crazy right now, I'm feelin' like a star Got the spotlight on me, and it's shinin' near and far Most incredibly, it's ya girl, B, yes, she's on the scene And I'm ya boy, Young, the king of this East Coast dream You ready? Uh oh, uh oh,...

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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....

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Carolina Coast Nothing but stars in night sky Could I grab them all? ...

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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...

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cheers from the bleachers ...

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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...

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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...

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when we brag and boast be about beautiful coast which we love the most...

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Squirrels in the tree Storm rumbling in the distance The sky bright orange...

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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 ...

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Show me shimmering light With your utmost might Couldn’t fight the fright inside There’s nowhere I can hide…hide… I cried aloud in the middle of the night For you to be my delight tonight, tonight But, this morning, I’m growing up and moving on I’m moving on and letting go after the dawn, dawn Almost breaking, almost waking up from my sleep in...

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