Long Seaweeds Poems
Long Seaweeds Poems. Below are the most popular long Seaweeds by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Seaweeds poems by poem length and keyword.
I walk along the slippery shore.
of the shingled beach
that welcomes the inland sea.
The sun rises slowly in the east,
lighting my way amongst
the small rocks and drying seaweeds.
There is a lift inside me
that nurture enthusiasm.
Peace and quiet reign around
disturbed occasionally by the barks
of sprightly dogs that race upon the sand,
the squawks of gulls gliding gluttonously
swooping down for their repast.
I look with sympathy on other walkers
on the beach. Thus, I meditate,
a marvellously therapeutic exercise.
Who am I, Lord, to deserve all this?
The quiet meditation calms my mind.
lowers my blood pressure,
a spiritually potent release.
My mind is tranquil,
I know who I am,
my soul is happy.
“The sea casts a magic spell with the ever- rising breakers and the melody, the clanking of waves produce. It amazes us with the wonders hiding within its caverns. Without drawing any boundary or barrier, it rushes
to touch or submerge everything on its way”--- Quote by the Poet.
What engrossing feel overpowers me,
As I loiter along the sandy strands of the sea.
Waves whisper their goodbye as they recede back,
Girdling the shore with a garland of foamy blooms.
A zephyr comes tickling and tangling my hair
Seaweeds sway back and forth as waters shoot up.
Beneath the sand, when wavelets on my ankles kiss,
Like a child, I long to jump into the wobbling mass.
I let the water braid my hands, to savor its coolness.
Though I don’t like its chaotic depths and crashing tides,
In the music of waves, I enjoy a moment of unalloyed joy.
The sea is indeed a sanctuary of never- ending epiphanies.
MY DREAM FLOATING WITH FLOW OF OCEAN
' I think, I know why the ocean flows' *
thrashing waves beyond the breakers,
sometimes turbulent, sometimes calm quiet.
Liners, Vessels, Ships are on voyage.
Passenger sinking in dreams of vastness.
Whimsy whales whistle wonderful alarming ambient.
In the ocean millions of sea creature struggling to survive,
floating, swimming, clinging to seaweeds,
crawling or settling in the abyss.
Preys and predators thriving simultaneous.
Coral displaying floral garden spectacular beyond human vision.
Icebergs huge or small to float showing one portion,
nine times being submerged deceiving onlookers.
Aquanauts to explore life under the ocean.
Ocean is flowing carrying immense treasures without any measure.
I know why the ocean flows calling the land dwellers.
* Line chosen
04/22/20
'Poetic lines from a Poetry Soup Poet: Vijoy Pandit' Contest by
Silent One
Another Spring and I still keep stumbling over
past decisions. I keep drinking the same bitter
rancid liquid full of memories. My heart continues
to relive the past like a merry go round. My eyes like
a CD keeps on playing pictures of her angel face
Walking along the sea shore with stinking seaweeds
the sea has vomited and wishing I could vomit the pent
up festering sores from my memories. Empty pockets
where keys to her flat jingled now only lint can be found.
Sun beating down on me as if to remind me not to
linger too long.
My bare feet with sand between my toes remind me
of walks with her. Why oh why do my ears still hear her
laughter after such a long time. Her soft voice was like
tiny bells and her eyes used to twinkle like stars. Perhaps
I should call and ask for forgiveness for my indiscretions
The other women meant nothing to me it was just one of
those things that happened while I was drunk. I should call
her and explain again. Perhaps now she will take me back.
Maybe if I got on my knees and cry she will feel sorry for me
Never ever will they forget, they swear
neither will we ever shirk their shtick, I fear
So it's with the dedication of a sinner to prayer that they dole out their perceived just deserts Fists kneading the skies, feet rousing the dirt
"WE WON’T FORGET! WE WON’T FORGIVE!’’
Sating us with a taste of their privilege.
Least we forget we are lackeys
Forever puckered up, tongues impaled as
the thunderous echo of our silence trumpets
our cheerful endorsement. Dedicated to drowning out the cobweb of protests rousing from the very depths of our down trodden souls where our own grief lies in a state of woeful neglect. Forgotten
like the fabled black poppies
"WE WON’T FORGET! WE WON’T FORGIVE’’
From their glutted gobs straight into our famished bellies while we continue to scour for sustenance in an endless sea of disparity, our weary backs, all the while, arched for their fragile egos to rest on.
When darkness finally rescues us, our souls finally unyoke, under its warmth we lick our wounds. In its depth we bury our shame and mourn the self pillorying of our dignity, as we nuzzle unto the source for restoration
We bow to the ones who swirl eternally in the dark belly of the bottomless seas, chained limbs still entangled in seaweeds, forgotten
the ones whose blood watered foreign lands just for another's pillage and plunder, unsung heroes, footprints long swept away by the winds of time. Spirits denied the tribal rites of passage home, their names only ever whispered by howling gales and ferocious typhoons.
Was it not your souls that put this fire in our bellies? Are you not the root of our resilience?
Author of our hope, though I have no banners to hoist nor a gavel to crack in your honour, my heart remains your monument
I breathe for you to live, your blood inflames my veins, your strength powers my loins, marrow to my bones, your wisdom quickens my step, even as I dance to the master's false tune, your gentle spirit soothes my aching soul
I now know you need no validation
that’s enough to see me through, the rise and fall of my chest a trusty reminder, least I forget
They are sought after by Queens
more than diamonds and gold;
they live in the Deep
chocked by seaweeds
enduring extreme cold...
I have one as a safe keep!
They are the joy of elegant women
who display them to conquer men;
sometimes they pensively sit
by the ocean and dream of kisses and happiness
by holding them in their hands...
whispering tender phrases to the blazing sunset!
I made a necklace with forty-six pearls
and gave to a sweet, green-eyed girl
who was unlucky in love, and seeing her flowing tears
drip on them I was stunned: they resembled stars of another Universe;
and while she caressed those yellow and white roses on the window-sill...
she was happy to be seduced by something so diverse!
Entered in Craig Cornish's contest,
" The Pearl "
Written on 3/20/2013
Last night, i dared revisit the crossing
of time with my brother, hovering on a
distant sky , tracing notes of my dripping rhymes.
We grew like chariot riders; he, the Troy of
streets and I, the maiden of lofty speeches.
While his hands reveled at the wonder of seaweeds,
I reviewed the fury of ancient mythology---
he laughs again at the strangeness of my ivory
tower ; and above easels of clouds, he smiles
knowing only he could comprehend my weird
attachment to words, art, and tempest.
Ten years ago, he ascended somewhere
in the glow of light, shutting me from all
moments uninhabited… unleashed.
A blank paper shouts at my hesitating
litany as if it were aware how siblings
climb inside, touch the veins of bloodline…
yet, it can not. Like a pageless odyssey,
I close my seaweed eyes unable to continue
recounting that June day,
when Benjo slipped into chariot’s final ride
without nothing else to say.
©
*in sweet memory of my brother who
relished my uniqueness as a person
and inspired me to pursue my passion.
Carol Eastman's Unsung Hero Contest
Along the shore I walked across wet sand
leaving footprints, a breeze across my face.
I listened to waves sluice across the strand
sifting, shifting pebbles to some further place;
a restless yet rhythmic refreshing sound:
despite the noise, washing and gifting peace.
At flood tides' limits rotting seaweeds mound,
where grubs and flies emerge for birds to feast.
Here upon the shore between high and low,
between ebb and flow, a margin unclaimed
has actions of nature revealed on show.
Signs of my presence are washed out, reclaimed,
yet held in these phrases I share with you
from the shore - ever the same, always new.
I know you so well now
that I can instantly
capture your moods.
Watching
as the tide ebbs -
you regretfully reveal
hidden treasures.
Children with small nets
probe into
your very soul,
and seabirds
plunder your bounties.
If I listen carefully
I can hear you cry.
Oh but the tide incoming
is a different matter.
Water gently
chuckles through
parched crevices,
small creatures return
where they belong.
Behold, seaweeds dance
in joy, and
once again
rejuvenated
you count your losses,
lick your wounds.
Written: circa 1994
———
Gull Point is in the East Coast Bays of
Auckland, New Zealand. An old haunt.
THE OCEAN
Alluring Amazing Ocean
Boundless Charming, Dynamic
Endless Energy in Free Frolic Foamy Flow.
Gorgeous, Loud Lovely, Marvellous, Musterious.
Noble or Outrageous.
Pearly, Pristine : Quite or Rowdy.
Unique: Vibrant, Valorous.
Wide, Wonderful with Youthful Vigorous
in zest and zeal.
Ocean flows thrashing waves beyond breakers,
sometimes turbulent, sometimes calm tranquil.
Liners, Vessels, Ships on voyage.
Passenger sinking in dreams of vastness.
Millions of sea creature struggling to survive,
floating, swimming, clinging to seaweeds,
crawling or settling in the abyss.
Preys and Predators thriving simultaneous.
Coral displaying floral garden spectacular beyond human vision.
Icebergs huge or small to float showing one portion,
nine times being submerged deceiving onlookers.
Aquanauts to venture expeditions under the ocean.
Ocean carrying immense treasures without any measure.
Ocean flows calling land dwellers to explore.