Quicksand Poems | Examples

Hands Are Buried Last In Quicksand

I breeze through endless of the trees,
I lose my way in which I choose,
Broken souvenirs will appear,
Fears jam and stuck in first gear.

Hands buried last in quick sand,
eyes focus to ears whispering,
silver stars, captured in jars,
glittering like your eyes, focusing.

There's a horizon I can't reach,
A cliff that hands can't withstand,
A hawk soars above my shore,
As I sink further to thoughts within.

Quicksand

On a silent journey,
I walked into the forest.
Within the dark,
A silhouette crept me out.

Suddenly I stumbled
And fell into a quicksand pit.
A cry for help—
No one to hear.

The more I struggled,
It pulled me deeper and deeper.
When I couldn’t breathe anymore,
I gave up the fight.

Slowly, it released me,
Letting me float.
Desperate and crazed,
I tried to swim with force—
Only to sink again.

So I stayed calm.
I did not cry.
I tried my best
To reach the shore.

Slowly, gently,
I rolled myself free,
Breathing a sigh of relief.

And I realized:
Sometimes all I need
Is to do my best—
And wait for time.

In chaos I found calm,
In silence I found strength.

Through the dark forest I walked on,
Until the sun came down,
Lighting my path anew.

Quicksand Hope

Quicksand hope hollow inside,
deranged dreams subside.
Shaky footsteps falter,
hourglass sands capture. 
Life loses the prop.

Quicksand

It's hard-
when everyone assumes
that you're okay.
When you're not-
you never have been.

You say what they want to hear,
even when it's a lie.
Because you're afraid
of what they might think.

Whatever you think that might be-
you're wrong.
Trust me.
I've been there.
And if they do think like that,
know this:
they don't deserve someone
as good as
you.

Every time you repeat that phrase-
I'm okay,
you sink deeper
and deeper
and deeper,
until you're stuck
in the quicksand.

Eventually,
your head will go under.
And all hope seems to have disappeared.
forever.

But then comes a hand,
pulling you out of your quicksand.
Struggling,
but never
letting go.

Then there are more.
So many hands.
They crowd around you, searching for a grip,
and lift
until
you begin
to rise.
Up.

Quicksand

Quicksand,
happy to sad.
Mad morass of the mind.
Looped labyrinth of wavy lines,
no end.

Quicksand

Now that you're gone,
Forever and forsakenly gone,
Now that I believe in you more than mine,
Trust that my voice is your heart's shrine!

I did not visit any Neverland,
You and I were dust in the quicksand.
You and I were both guests in this colossal homeland,
We didn't want to be perpetually unplanned.

Sometimes I feel I should talk to you immediately,
Sometimes I try to forget your existence suddenly,
Sometimes I want to dodge life's inevitable journey to death,
Other times, your lap was my quiet bed.

Soon I will discover the myth of the light,
After that, your breath will be nothing but burning blight.
Soon I will find out the way of living in the dark,
Even now, I want to be the lowest-paid clerk in your arc.

Walk with me to hell and heaven's gate,
We don't know the reason for our fate.
Pass this journey twice:
Once literally, the other in your slice!

Death Dance

Each day we wake up with grace
We know not how the day will end
We walk by death time and time again 
Unaware of our feet in quick sand

Some of us slowly sink in
Unaware we don’t fret or worry
Some of us are acutely conscious 
That we sink and move in various ways 
Perhaps quickening deaths grip
Perhaps not if one believes in destiny 

We have various choices challenges that 
Grab our focus and like hocus Pocus 
Our death dance is transformed
Do you waltz beautifully to the music
Do you sing along and try to diffuse it’s sting
Do you embrace and trace your steps
As the death rattle settles in your chest
And fastens like a lead violet vest

Embracing the best and lovingly dressed life dreams
Bubbling upon the quicksand like a silver sonnet
How do we know enough about it to fear
What if the other side is more clear and honest 
We all sink in quicksands of life and perhaps
It is the only worthy way to have lived
So put on your best dancing shoes
Lace them up with love 
And strut your stuff

The Quicksand of Thought

Like sands of thought, a whirlpool's dizzy spins
and holes of black, where not a prayer escapes,
the gravity ~ temptation's lurid sins,
while empty vacuums fill and chaste guilt drapes.
While strung...there draws a bow that sheds a tear
on sweet vibrato's last remembered breath,
now echoes in the breast that held you near
and haunting dreams that can't accept your death.
Such blame...the trembling mirror held,
not far enough to see reflected truths,
yet close enough to feel the growing swells,
remembering the hopes when we were youths.
   I languish in the quicksand of my thoughts,
   where every lingering memory was wrought...

Lifes Hurdles In Our Minds

"'If I'm the world's biggest failure
Does that make me a success?''  -Peter Dome.

Life is a series of stepping stones
A challenge we have to face
Each every day
We try to keep our balance
Winds may blow us over
We either make it or we fall
Obstacles may get in our way
Sometimes we don't make it at all
Many try to live their lives all at once
And trip over
It's hard if we try to get 
From one step to the next
Blinded by darkness
We have to be careful
If our feet don't know where to go
So we take a breath 
And go real slow
Sometimes our feet get stuck in the mud
We struggle with all our mite
Or we find ourselves in quicksand
And we lose the fight

Quicksand

with each word I say to you
I feel myself being taken 
down by the undertow
below the boggy mire
as I struggled to say 
just the right thing
I find myself sinking
trapped knowing inevitably 
I'm helpless as each word
provides more of a struggle
into the quicksand 
of our broken love

©SamHarty

How To Maybe Get Out of Quicksand

A little tidbit
Before you arrive in the rainforest
if you get lost
and fall into quicksand
do not panic

calmly lean back into a back float position
slowly move your feet circularly
without panic!
you might be able to free yourself
if you stay calm

if not,
you might slide under the quicksand
as if you are the inside of a taco
luckily you will be too quickly snapped up
to panic now

Quicksand

I'm sinking in the sands of time

Nothing I do can save me

The more hills I try to climb

The closer to death I'll be

I stand and reach for the sky

To face the lightning and thunder

But life will soon pass me by

I feel myself going under

Quicksand

Trying to find hope in a quicksand world 
is hard when hope is like the clouds above; 
looked towards but never touched; 
as much as we must want. 
And the sands of this world feel 
like tiny hungry hands feeding a patient mouth; 
fists over tiny fists they pull in what is left of us. 
While hope flies above vaporous and too high to touch. 
Tiny fingers heartlessly pulling 
with the persistence of children’s wants. 
Sewing words that drag us further into a hungry maw; 
using words that claim to be from another’s heart. 
Familiar weights tearing parts away 
from the very soul of hope and us. 
A soul still mending from almost before being lost; 
peeling away newly laid self-worth like flesh from bone. 
Scraps of meat left to be plucked by carrion birds. 
Scraped leftovers after the lions’ take; 
taken to fill a world whose hunger we could never sate.
Bones left to whiten in the harsh noon sun. 
Sightless caves watching as the next in line comes; 
to be claimed by this insatiable world, 
while others blindly wait their turn.

Quicksand

eyes gently dreaming
eclipse parable parades
our moments in love

Quicksand

My brain is hung to dry
Which leaves but one option.
To make conversation with a bottle
Or perhaps just a monologue.
The words echo from the glass
And I nod my head in confirmation.
I seem to have made a friend
In a room with just one chair.

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