Long Breathing Poems
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Rippling waters moving
feeling hypnotically soothing
under our boat it rocks us
under its spell it locks us
misty fog slightly breezing
dampening the salty air we’re breathing
over our shoulders it shrouds us
silhouetting the masts around us
rippling waters moving
feeling hypnotically soothing
its rhythmic ride tells us
to give in and let it lull us
moody night skies
reveal nothing to our eyes
not the light of the moon or a star
but secrecy’s a seductress where we are
rippling waters moving
feeling hypnotically soothing
sultry sway hypnotizes us
as Eros glamorizes us
Susan Ashley
May 17, 2019
*In Greek mythology, Eros is the Greek god of love.*
On a warm evening,
Sat idle on the seashore,
Looking at the sea.
As I was gazing,
Violent breakers rose high,
Crashing on the shore.
Before me I saw,
The savagery of the sea.
Will it be at rest?
I sat on the beach
A little away from crowd,
Breathing briny air.
My mind became light.
Can I be again a child,
Playing on seashore?
Watched small boats gliding.
Saw swallows winging across
And gulls circling round.
With sun plunging down,
Sharks were seen leaping over.
Soon sky grew darker
The crowd was leaving
Will peace sooner descend down,
To soothe my sad soul?
What puzzles do the sea hold?
Don't let her know, for she may delight,
as I bend and I twist and I snap in the night,
and in the daytime I hide while I gag and I choke,
on the memories of her that lag and evoke.
I told her enough things that were inside my head,
and I wish and I wish and I wish I was dead,
somehow alive yet bereft of the essence,
maybe when I am gone she will again feel my presence.
It hurts to think that she would never know,
I have died deep inside and I want to let go,
of the breathing and waking and terrible dreams,
leave me seething and shaking thru inaudible screams.
I cant even find happiness when I sleep,
my dreams are invaded, creep creep creep,
sometimes I dream we're together again,
but its ruined by seeing her with other men.
I'm cruelly cut off and just left here to wither,
no message, no visit, no speaking, no bother,
she's either the one or an incredible liar,
but to her I'm sure I've already expired.
I'm such a fool, I wait and I wait,
I am noble, and loyalty is my biggest trait, but
she doesn't want me and hides like a coward,
as she sits on her throne I built, I hope she is proud.
You took this man and turned his life upside down,
now my life is stinking and fetid and brown,
I will end it soon when I have my way,
and you'll wish and you'll wish you had seen me that day.
When metaphors play 'hide and seek,'
my shield is a veil nurturing premature petals.
Yet there are some words that become poems,
to help those who care to read
to interpret the alchemist mystery,
personifying personal alliterative angst.
The heart ponders...
What will abandon me first,
my trusted muse? Who reveals my truth
or my wallflower soul, which prevents
butterfly breaths - breathing their last sigh?
What am I,
but a pomegranate pebble,
oppressed by stones -
in a man's world, feeling like a boy.
Once, I planted two seeds with ultimate care,
but they no longer bloom for my atonement.
Yet, I still care for them from a distance,
soaking their roots with drops of blood.
Once, I found love,
so I formed into a bridge,
protecting her from raging torrents,
but I could not live up to expectations,
as turbulent waves crashed against my chest.
Now I'm crumbling.
Sometimes, I'm left alone upon an unknown path,
with only cloudy horizons above - but I keep wandering.
Hoping to be found.
Slowly, I lose a part of me,
but I'm inexperienced in
trying to be who you want me to be.
I'm tired from being devalued.
Maybe, I'm worthless,
simply useless, some what careless,
so throw your spears -
I no longer feel.
I won't tell.
I'll remain silent,
but my poetry will forever echo.
Simple Musing
An example for my current contest.
Some days I’m living in panic
Panic like I cannot move
Panic like there are hot metal chains
wrapped tightly around my ribs
Trying to talk feels like breathing in smoke
On the verge of tears
And all I want is to curl up and cry
Until my eyes turn red
But I can’t because
I’m in school
And everyone will see how much
Of a fool I am
So I have to look like I’m ok
But I’m not
Because later that night
That night of the panic attack,
I got so close
I even made a plan
I planned to cut in groups of three
Cuz three is my comfort number
That day I chose 27 cuts
Because nine times three
Nine times I lacked the comfort I craved
I remember it distinctly
Nine times three
Cuz nine times I felt hurt that day
One I was in trouble, two I got yelled at,
Three I woke up late, four,I was called rude for talking
Five I’m so immature, six, I had extra chores,
Seven I couldn’t eat lunch, eight Alex hates me
And nine I hate myself and I don’t matter anymore
When I went to bed that night I was so scared
because I got so close to SH
I got so close this time
for Jim)DEVOTION POEM - ENTANGLED. (for Jim)
For me he’s The One.
As I’ve been for him
his Only One.
From the beginning when
Our fates embraced.
I listen to his breathing, while concerned,
He watches how well I’m moving.
Around him, I am a verdant vine.
He rises near — as a braid of wildflowers
around me to twine.
Our holy Lord sees our love for each other as
The poetry of twin pendulums — joined signs in
The physics and mathematics of His space and time
As we move together — entangled.
Forever our love is synchronized.
The scales of our music harmonize.
We see starlights shine — during the any
Moments of time when we embrace the highest
of love within each other.
——————————————————————————————————————
(c) sally young eslinger
With thanks to reading here on PS
got me to ask Jim about entanglement theory, resulting
in the inspiration for this. Thankful we inspire one another.
Dangerous love
Chronic stress gave its path in my heart
Apart from breathing, that’s part of my pain
Stains remain, love cannot be sustained
Fight for what you love, and let happiness lead the way
Who is your soulmate, tell me?
Faith lost trust to hope, future is demolished
Polished my heart, yet still stuck to you like glue was applied
Still recall, when you said you will be like a father to me
Promised me live and future but feels like climate change
Who is in your heart, tell me?
I still need you, I don’t know if you do
I still want you; I don’t know if you do
I still love you I don’t know if you do
Who is responsible for my role tell me?
Faith please, gain trust again to hope
Love is medicine we all need to drink
Death can occur without taking your medicine
Medicine heals all illness, but the heart is stubborn
Make me love again but please tell me
Who is your soulmate?
The intrigued course of subjugation history,
turned the trader into the ruler, enforcing
the British sovereignty in the Indian subcontinent
for seemingly endless decades.
Many valiant attempts of liberation failed,
the chains of domination remained unbroken,
till the persistent persuasion of non-violent stir
became the surging independence movement,
shaking ultimately the citadel of the empire,
whose sun was to set in the east
on August 15, 1947 when the awakened nation
saw the new sunrise with colors of freedom,
but with a colossal human cost
paid by the millions of uprooted people,
the displaced refugees losing homes
in the wake of territorial partition.
Yet the generations down the time line,
breathing the free air in the free country,
won’t ever forget this historic day.
(On August 15, 1947 the Indian subcontinent became independent
from the British Empire, following the non-violent movement led by
Mahatma Gandhi. The freedom came with the travails of partition
(forming India and Pakistan) for the hapless millions of displaced
refugees who were the witness to this historic event).
September 24, 2020
Contest : A Historic Event
Sponsor : William Kekaula
THE EYE of I
What is life? What is love?
The eye of I took it in…
The material rolling sweeps highs and lows--valleys cuts, grooves, gullies and gorges eye engorge crevices of porphyry
heat flies from the ravines
places the eye cannot see but the soul can visit-- living matter,
infused with tissue thoughts generated externally electrified internally
the sweat that beaded on the brow drips and spatters, absorbs the entity under
What is the breathing open petal life… radiating respiring
One throttle to quell that respiration, bright lightening beauty gently fusing into glow?
Brightening as I faster
Turbine-whistle I your master
beating, spewing, thrusting, ignition transference… body grue and stifles?… Gone
She stiffens the radiance of the face pale, milky, alabaster, clammy pore-less beams the lips and cheeks rubescent now. Smoothes, and transition into deep hues of blues, violent violets, ebony black. Hardens, stiffens stone then softens? as alabaster
Deterioration, matter, entropy all so naturally
Squall has past--the quondam respiring takes long respite..
The eye of I took it in…The material rolling sweeps highs and lows, valleys, cuts, grooves, gully and gorge I engorge crevices of porphyry
heat flies from the ravines folded as petals from
places the eye cannot see but the soul can visit
of living matter, infused with tissue thoughts generated externally electrified internally
The sweat that beaded on the brow drips and spatters, absorbs the entity under lies the breathing open petal life… radiating, respiring?
The fingers trace and fall in place the Etowah infused with breath
The sweat sinks in, absorption energy transfers electricity thoughts
Cabachon crescendos!
All the while the living, beating, breathing, entity flutters, shutters, smiles.
Where water searches for soul
It loves the weakened shore
To leave it's purpose so smooth and stark
To feint attack on shapes in the dark
A thin carved edge
Infinite breathing
Pushing and pulling
Golden alabaster hue turns to marble
Excited atoms light the ambient mood
Her sharpened edged tool
She will carve her way
through the mystic dry shores
Caressing the thick attitudes of can't shouldn't and why
She owns this right
She won't part with her own cadence
You don't want to know why
Saying something for a summer's day gentle breeze
She sits on a charity of hopes that could pay
Never about the money
Hopes that we could play with her infinite wave
An editor of deleted memories distorted dreams
She slowly sits and becomes the night
You've paid do mind as if chanting a special word
Serenity has indubiously arrived in one breath
Indiscreetly you can bet she'll be calm
For a lady's captured passion by her stoic shores
Those who stand on guard for a measure of sanity
Realness is but a word with no base
Sunshine if it could only have a taste
Would taste like her
We can show that we haven't lost our art
Some kindness thanks
To feel a connection a self intervention
The inhibition of her seat to dispel
Boundaries now presented by a question
Losing the natural ladder from stardust to Hell
From the depths no person has lived but confident it was home
Worldly being a sure-bet too counterfeit too perfect
To feint attack on shapes in the dark
When night meets darkness
The street quiet draws
Regeneration in the air
At a popular cocktail lounge in a small foreign town
We like to know there is a late night show
A band plays working on their plan
To keep it's shape as beautiful fun
Just like the wave of the tide
And the lady by the shore