Drifting Poems

Drifting Clouds

oh
lord
i
see
statues
of
all
the
great men
who
sang out loud
are
only
made
of
drifting clouds

A Drifting Cloud

a drifting soft cloud
melts into wispy vapors
absorbing the sky
floating in the vast blue as
cotton candy floating by

soaring happily
over the hilly mountain
inhaling the sweet
fragrant mountain ebony
moving to its destiny

the cloud glides afar
wandering above forests
heaving a deep sigh
moving away to the stars
greeting the wide horizon


Placed third
29th August,2025
Tanka Triptych Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: John Anderson 

DRIFTING

DRIFTING
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
cool night air
scent of earth and pine
the like lies still
silvery moonlight spills
thoughts drift like ripples
“What does it mean to be alive?”

Sea Of Tranquility

By day my dreams go drifting
of their own design
I find my mind wandering
down to the waterline
for a change of scene
let's you and me
go swimming in the sea
of tranquility
leave all cares behind
we'll sail away sometime soon
and bathe by the light of the moon

Drifting Into the Blue

I've always been afraid of deep water...
So why did I believe it would make me stronger?
Maybe I thought its beauty was sublime,
But beauty can’t hold you afloat every time.

I took a breath and went under,
Trusting you through all the wonder.
The waves pushed me towards you,
A feeling so fresh and new.

As I ventured into the deep

Misty

You don’t know what you do to me
When your eyes meet mine that way.
You light a spark, then turn and fade—
And I’m alone with what I can't say.
Broken hearted, I don’t know how
To say the things I need to now.
You don’t see what’s in my eyes—
And I just don’t know why.

The moment I saw you
It

Drifting in the Wind

I hear a haunting melody drifting in the wind
as though a Stradivarius had been chinned
Gently, it dried the tears of willows weeping
slowly drifted past my window as I lay sleeping
It tickled my ears as I slumbered in a dream
then touched the glow of a golden moonbeam

drifting

solemn thoughts
meanderings
wandering over the night
stars glistening
on seas of ebony
nocturnal whispers, reflections
in moonlight inklings
stars hesitant
to glow, where the past peels back
layers of discord
naked,
scars boldly weeping
remembering…

darkness is a color
faded, distant
almost a prayer
for the moment before
the heart’s snow
falls, melancholic and bitter
like the wind
autumn’s rhythmic story
playing softly
gentle as the sun’s smile
blessing away the night
who blends silence
and a weary taste

Drifting Dream

Build me a sandcastle of drifting dream,
just to scatter every particle in the wind...
Lay me under the burden of brokenness,
until the shore gives in to a new dream. 

~Ayesh

Drifting Swan

                     quite
                far across
                

Drifting

Memories, shifting like the moonlight
Fading even though I hold on tight
Feeling myself floating upon a cloud
Wind blowing loud
Dreams that one day may do me proud
Thoughts racing past the stars
Uncovering my scars
For all to see
That's how peace finds me
Dark times alone
A child already grown
Old man who are you
How many dreams have came true
To many dreams lost

Drifting through the raindrops

I wake up at midnight
To the sound of a summer storm,
The breeze upon my face
Feels so gentle and so warm.
Then I'm looking down on
An endless , clear mountain stream . . . 
Drifting through the raindrops in a dream.

There were books I had read,
High upon a distant shelf;
Written by family
Though there's nothing of myself.
Words paint

Drifting

Citrus hints of lemon and lime
Chewing on endless nuisance
Depth of a refillable hole dug
Mountain of trance unscalable 

Footsteps dissolve into echoes
Swallowed by sharp currents 
Through mist of fractured days
Incoherence sways in the breeze

Hands reach but never interlock
Notes fading over looping time
A story written but half baked
Lost in space between moments

In the shattered mirror of hollow empathy, I see fragments of myself drifting

In the shattered mirror of hollow empathy, I see fragments of myself drifting,
Like ash butterflies dancing in the cold wind of unspoken truth,
And their words—"I can't empathize"—are silver arrows piercing through
The illusory veil of superficial consolation, revealing the inner garden
Where I alone grow the cucumbers of wisdom, where I water the flowers of courage.
And I

Drifting Aimlessly

Drifting aimlessly, mine aspirations are illusionary.
Drifting aimlessly, mine spirit becoming less and less lively.
Drifting aimlessly, mine life is miserably empty.

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