Long Tides Poems
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Sometimes the tide rolls out
and the shoreline is exposed;
we see shells, crustaceans and other things,
that were right under our nose.
Then the tide rolls back in
and they're covered up again;
water is all we see,
underneath is a mystery.
Sometimes my tide is in;
my emotions are hidden;
what goes on inside of me
is not easy to conceive.
But, sometimes my tide is out;
thoughts and feelings inside show;
emotions are worn on my sleeve
and the real me you can get to know.
I do not have a tide chart,
telling you which state I am in;
the moon does not influence my tides;
the times of each are not even.
If you catch me at high tide
don't expect emotions to show;
if tears begin to fill my eyes
you know my tide is low.
Just be careful where you sit,
or your things might get swept away;
or that walk into the water
might be real far away.
And know that when you're with me,
the tides will ebb and flow;
stay long enough, my mood will change,
and a different part of me will show.
First we heard the sound
Torrential rain falling
On a soft ground
It seemed sounds were crawling
It was a little mysterious
Somewhat weird too
Obviously, we got curious
A sense altogether new
As we took the turn
There stood the white column
A burning white unconcern
For us all sudden and solemn
As we went ahead
The mighty fall came into view
Below flew a racing cascade
It was just gorgeous to be true
For our tired eyes
Afflicted with monotony
It was a tremendous surprise
Both visibly and audibly
Between two mountainsides
A deep grey ravine
Surging with its angry tides
Flirting with the lush green
Dense clouds over the sky
Spread dark shadows on the ground
Still shining silver the fall high
Incessant fall but undowned
The calm the quiet the placid the hush
In this milieu the roaring waterfall
For the ravine a maddening crush
Amazing, says the mountain tall
The ravine gurgling
The fall splashing and roaring
The water sparkling
Our wonder soaring
The full beauty we filled our hearts with
Embracing each other laid the kisses
This much I could write, a poor wordsmith
As we looked at the flowers of our fulfilled wishes
September 16, 2019
Picturesque Rhyme Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Eve Roper
With my heart soaring, my bones groan and ache.
Over one's mental and body limits, pain forsakes
Since we all must look inward for our spirit.
An inborn vivacity that throbs with vitality merit.
You can't say I'll go today as—I am still arriving.
Look closely—each day I'm a spring bud thriving.
To sing in my new nest as a small bird with frail wings.
To be a caterpillar within a flower or sapphire in slings.
Regardless of the tides of time, I'm still a kid.
Life-span shadows hampered a merry slid.
Decades of experience heighten life's fears.
I still spoil it, yet it has degraded over the years.
Conflicts may emerge, and hurdles may appear.
But, as free-flying hawks, we soar without fear.
For the might within us is limitless and glorious.
With hope and drudgery, our lives are victorious!
We can overcome the pain and fears we face.
And gather the fortitude to proceed with grace.
Since we have an ideal resolve and limitless spirit.
And we can scale any hill, no matter how tall is it.
The innate liveliness that pulses with every beat.
A vital rhythm that is not in silence or defeat.
Amid the highs and lows, thrill and sorrow.
The heart's music hits on, a steady hollow.
So let's all swing to the eternal heartbeat of life.
Cherish the moment at hand and let pass of strife.
For it is in this dance that we discover our way.
To a life filled with love, guffaws, and endless play.
We poets pursue perfection
As tides to distant shores, naturally inclined
To follow one’s instincts,
Nothing less and nothing more.
Some of us are driven like hurricane winds
While others, more calmly still;
Like soft breezes on warm summer nights
Addicted to words that fill.
Our hearts and minds with rhythm and rhyme
With thoughts from Venus to Mars;
We poets pursue perfection
No matter how near or far.
We’re all as different as day dreams
In perceptions, ideas and beliefs;
While I write about mountains for climbing high
You write about turning new leafs.
You like free verse I find them a curse
But love you none the less;
For all you say tomorrow today
You’re still pursuing your best.
And though we may not agree, one point with me
Is how you look within.
Poetic thoughts are how we ought
To live each day from beginning to end.
As for this gentle man, he understands
The reason we poets keep going;
Not for the fame or praises we’ll claim
But the truth of our own self-knowing.
Sonnet, you beckon me with your allure.
Valiant ship from a distant shore
Resting, no more sojourn
Basking in glory of a distant past
Lowered mast once battered and blown
An emblem of pride and place
From boundless rushes, to a windless pace
Now laid bare of all innocence
Meekly, humbly retired
All aboard was the captain’s word
As the crew came rushing on
With hands on decks and the compass set
To carve a story not yet heard
A seafarers’ life of no regrets
While cavaliers seek their bounty
And fortune favours the brave
You set sail from old Blighty
Sending the good and mighty
To watery graves
Now in retirement you bask and bathe
As the tides doth ebb and flow
Rising and descending your mood does shift
Whilst along your flanks assorted remnants drift
In the silted bed of the Thames your now reside
Dancing to the rhythm of a seasonal tide
Whilst aboard, there is a tossing and a turning
In the warmth of comfy beds
Lays the bodies of weary heads
Painted lady, red, gold and green
On my canvas you are drawn
As on the pages I do scribe
Of a beauty and a guile
Never to be erased from my memory
For your dye is truly cast,
Unforgettably.
Not a moment ticks when life may not grow,
Let seasons come and go, tides wax and wane,
Life keeps transforming, ever on the go,
Gets born again wee like ghazal’s refrain.
Death leaves behind a ripened seed in chain,
The soul as traces a long-drawn voyage
Whose seed sprouts forth time and time once again,
Aiming to evolve O at every stage.
If quiet does a drop evaporate,
So too a soul when to new flesh passeth,
In silence does Nature new things create,
Whine not O man in life nor yet in death,
For, ye come crying taking first fresh breath
That ye whine all life and leave so at death.
________________________________
Musings | 11.02.2011 revised July 2026 | death, faith, life, Sonnet
Preface: There is entirely too much water being consumed. People should be satisfied with thirst and being dry. People should think about desert sand, romancing dunes and bleached bones in repose.
People become inflated with hydration
Leaving the faucet on, mouth wide open
Under the deluge of flowing water spouts
Every drop is counted against humanity
Wasted on the tongues of one another
Walking around like sacks of fat fluidity
Carbon units of wet are most insidious
Something is wrong when not forgotten
Hydration is the sin of water intake
Who forgot to turn it off? ?
The sum worth of oceans is in their taste
Is salt not dry? Is it the flavor of the day?
Parched deserts are void of water with no shame
Under the sun there is no shade to hide
Only heat and land flow open on tomorrow
Being porous is a crime
This condition is not a state of holiness
Leakage is a sin against humanity
People who drink will leak
Will sink in perpetuity to new depths
Oceans of debt will swallow them whole
They rise to levels with high tides to float
To their horizons saturated in their homes
Where will they go?
Fluid intake is a compromise to thirst
Weighs heavy on the bladder of the sinner
People who take leaks on lawns
Should be arrested and pay fines
Urination is not the nation I had in mind
It should be a crime
Such actions are not civilized
There is nothing wrong with being dry
From what I can surmise
Different
I'm so different to you
You're so different to me
Different in the way we think
Different in the way we see
Like measuring the thunder of a Lancaster Bomber
Against the beating wings of a Bumble Bee
They try to make us all believe in the same way
They try to make us all see what they want us to see
The inherent flaw of our nature is always here
The inherent flaw is that we all think differently
Power controls our life like the tides of the sea
But power will never control our minds indefinitely
Controlling the way we think, the way we love, the way we feel
Would lead humanity down the path of insanity.
Depression
There is no one reason, some remain depressed.
One could be, a fear to stand before – undressed,
looking at all their natural beauty – glory repressed.
Never to see, to feel, to know reality- their story supressed.
A dear john letter ?
I have moved on to better !, ?
Winter winds tearing at our relationship.
The fires of those winter storms, burn deep,
scorching the fragile fabric of spring,
of summer, of the decaying hours of autumn.
This, leaving me feeling, as the deserted beaches,
hammered by relentless waves crashing down.
The essence, the face, lost after being touched
by the raging, thrashing waves of spring tides.
Lost, after being caressed, fondled by summer waves.
Lost, after being cleansed by autumns thrashing surf.
Lost, after being ripped to shreds by winters door closing,
on all that once could have been something better.
Moving on
A coarse, I believe, you have always been taking.
It has been a long time, in fact, years in the making.
The earth upon which you / we have walked is shaking.
There is no longer, any good reason for you to be faking
all – that I feel – have been the reasons for this braking.
I do not – for one second – blame you for moving on.
I understand why what you may have had is all gone.
For the light you so desperately sought, never shone
upon the dreams you had of me.
The dreams that I would never see.
For they were of someone I could never be,
in this world of mine, where being free
from all that tears at this fragile heart,
of which I no longer want any part
of, and for many good reasons
of which, in my final seasons,
need not – ever again – want to become a part of my life.
For, at my age, and with all my experiences, strife
would only be the stiletto, a dagger, a keen knife
that cuts deep into the heart and brings nothing but rife
to this old man’s days and nights as he stands
at the threshold of new ways, in new lands
where there may be no foot prints in the sands
as life changes. moves on, is out of one’s hands
B. J. “A ” 2
May 19th 2004
Let us Sing!
In stardust colors, as twilight withdraws her smile,
Leaving gentle inklings of what it is to reflect the night,
Stirring the blessings of an autumn divided, silently
Providing the melody, a song of serenity, soothing
In heaven’s heartbeat, rhythms of love warming,
Defeating the rain, storms and darkest dread,
Falling among the forest’s elms, rustling leaves,
Whispering in the evening, erasing wistful tears
In the souls who hear the truth pouring from the seas,
Roaring like they’ve seen through the past, to the potential,
You and me, reaching beyond the summer, to see, believe
Hope has sparked a promise, the music of God’s kindness
In the rising sun, beyond the faded halo of a wonderous moon,
Seeking to please the One who said that His love would burn
Through the ages, through the spirits of those who believe
He is in the stars, the rising tides, the rivers and the song…
Silencing the wind that blows, the dancing stars, the dreams,
Blessing those who simply know – He is the love that shows
Hearts and souls, which way to go, how God has broken
All the hard – into moments when love can sustain all,
Strengthening us so that our only hope is the hope of the Son,
The One who died and rose, saving everyone who believes,
Everyone who agrees that this is love that means we weep
Only for a while, then we reach the other side, where He is…. The King of Kings, the mercy and grace, the truth who reigns, forever sustains! – Where Jesus, our King, is everything!!!