The great wild sea roars,
High waves crashing far away,
Stillness on the rocks.
"Note: AI image generated to complement the themes of my original poem."
The nail bites deep in the wood as per plan,
The carpenter does what he thinks he can:
No plan can counteract the destined fate
Of an amber tree crashing on a gate.
Roaring ocean crashing like two cymbals coming together in a band
Crashing out.
As if by the breeze.
I had enough coffee to survive an ice storm.
When there’s no weather for miles.
Just seems so just…
Like I used to be depressed a minute ago.
Then goosebumps and icicles.
Chattering and nothing is blessed-it’s just goofy, oddball,
Chirping, laughter, undoing.
I was brushing my teeth.
The toothbrush went right through my tongue.
Everything’s enraged.
Nothing’s screaming, it’s just beautiful.
I really used to be depressed.
In that drooling, but no real drool way.
No tears, just the mesh everywhere that does nothing.
That’s what this is, just a room full of spinning dice multiplying.
Looming all over, happy.
I was relaxing by the windowsill.
There’s still no such thing as weather or storms.
Just whatever ice is left over that I’m wielding.
When there’s no weather for miles.
You can just float into the open world.
Be an electric person.
Crashing out.
Have enough space molecules.
Expand the no-storm earth.
Crashing out.
I feel the bite.
And stopped being depressed for a week.
A dance among the crashing waves
The turbulent sea on the shore
Rolling with white sand
The fragility of a body in pieces
In footprints that have left behind
The wind blows on the waving strands
Like a dance in the shadows at the edge of the beach
When fingers clasp
The waves run
Clashing against towering rocks
Playing with dreams at the end of the day
As if the sun will never go away
You are my night owl
I am your morning breeze
That deepen your dormancy
My existence in your insensibility
Your presence never in my second
Our hour nevermore light on
Pain is all Around,
My head is pounding,
Static noise surrounding me.
Like horns sounding,
Symphonies of energies.
Rippling through Eternity,
Having their way with me.
A vessel on this choppy sea,
Thrashing and crashing about.
Trying to scream,
I shout,
No sound comes out.
Only waves of commotion,
Invoking more E-motion,
Trapped in this Ocean.
And it keeps growing,
Overflowing,
Throwing me,
Into a state,
I can't relate.
I can't think straight,
I let it all go,
Embracing my fate.
Listening,
I wait.
Static of crashing waves,
Digging up graves.
Buried,
Within my brainwaves.
My Head is pounding,
Static noise surrounding,
Everything I see.
Like Horns sounding,
Symphonies of energies,
Rippling through eternity.
Waves of the Choppy Seas,
Having their way with me.
Thrashing and crashing about,
Trying to scream,
No sound comes out.
Drowned out,
Splashing about,
Outside motion,
Creating a commotion.
Invoking the emotion,
Trapped in the ocean.
That keeps growing,
Throwing me,
Into a state,
I can't relate.
I don't think straight,
Embracing my fate,
Sitting, listening I wait,
Head pounding away,
The static of crashing waves,
Digging up Graves,
Burried within brainwaves .
My mind crashes goes
numb after every word you speak
hitting rock bottom
Your sand, my waves
you're every grain
hotter than one
can possibly explain.
My water
trickles to you ,
at first
just to tease,
increasing
in urgency to aid
in your release.
Before too long
my waves
crash against you,
covering the loin
of your land,
caressing it in it's
beautifully long span.
My wetness envelopes you as
I bury you in the splashes,
applying wet thudding lashes.
I pound your hot surface
with all that is my waves
because in the end it's only
you that I crave.
©SamHarty
Nudity Flashing While Party Crashing
when nudity flashing
my thumb with hammer smashing
party was crashing
Suffocating
By my own hands.
Falling apart,
I’m my own demise.
When last did I breathe?
Why can’t I now?
Falling off
The edge of the cliff,
Failure to grasp
Onto something;
anything.
Beneath the water
I plunge,
Sinking down.
Should have learned
How to swim
When I had the chance.
Lungs filling up
With water,
Air stolen from me
By the thieves
Of the sea.
Shackles weigh me down,
To the bottom
Of the ocean.
Not a breath
Of air
To be found.
Body trembling
In the ties
Around me,
Muscles spasm,
Tensing
With fear.
The need to
Get free,
To find an escape.
But I’m drowning
And shackled
With no one
To save me.
From this high cliff, I see the beach
that stretches miles along the shore,
with the horizon, far from reach-
to hug the sky, forevermore.
From unseen starts, waves crash, retreat;
bathe rocks and sand- no prints of feet.
So vast, the ocean- with its waves
that rise and churn beneath the wind
as white caps form with froth that plays
upon the shore to then rescind
back out to sea, where currents blend;
return again- once more, extend.
The rocky beach divides that space
tween stable land and rolling sea-
two worlds that coexist, embrace;
all life by nature, guarantee.
The land, with seasons, changes scene;
the sea turns wild- or rests, serene.
But still, the rocky beach remains;
as constant as can be, it lies-
except with ebbs and flow, sand gains
a changing breadth with lows and highs.
It guards both worlds- and all alone
braves future waves- their force unknown.
Maybe I’m drowning in my own thoughts
Maybe I’m living in my own storm
Maybe the trauma of the past are the waves crashing around my ship
Maybe the clouds and pouring rain drops are the fear surrounding every decision
Maybe the swirling winds around every moment of life are the negative perception of hear say of events that have happened
The hole causing the ship to sink is the words of the people sitting and staring just watching it drown
The death of air is the suffocation of silence
Use your voice is all that said
But in a wreck where your voice has been drowned out by all of the background noise for so long
Hope is what has been lost
The disappointment is what you have become
Now lost in the waters of your own head
Drowning in the conclusions of perceptions instead
People turning to food banks
Politicians speak out the same lie
Will they ban energy meters
Democracy crashes
no more certainties
Nights of hypocrisy cringing
By Voting Tory
Party Gate EX PM shreds the truth
Rodeo cowboys strike
Midnight Clover
We are not Right
least we are not wrong
with none to vote for
the issue of stopping strikes
takes precedence
unbumble these politicians exuberance
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