Empty seashore
The seashore is empty!
In the sea breeze, a vision—
your form!...
a puzzle!... with the pieces of your absence
joined in the refrain of the lapping waves—
pebbles, seaweed, and seashells.
Upon the emerging pebbles,
your light tread!...
An Aphrodite passing by,
steeped in the brine of youth,
leaving behind—in the fading wave—
a note of a wild waltz for this refrain.
Amidst the tangled seaweed,
your embrace!...
tight against the body of beauty,
loosened in the storm of desire,
two rose petals surrendered to the foam,
a note of stolen love—this refrain.
Upon the broken shells,
a shared promise—
the vow of an eternal love,
violated in the shifting sands,
like a shipwreck’s keel snapped in two;
the empty shoreline—a puzzle piece.
Finding
your place
More important
than fame
To merge
with forever
Past transiency’s
stain
To letter
eternal
Beyond critic
and praise
To join
with the voices
In heaven’s
— refrain
(The First Book Of Prayers: August, 2026)
Snow came down hard
Harassing the roadside bar
Taking one more shot
Reminding himself, 'he was hot'
John proceeded to the lavatory
Without any worry
Mirror, he did reflect
No fear of the word 'reject'
Ventured into the night
Seeking a romantic sight
Reality stated hurtful fight
"Goodbye, my dear knight
Our relationship is dead,"
Wearing the pearls he bought, she said
Returning to the watering hole
Shivering and cold
Shocking we were told
Seductress commanded the stage
Half anyone's age
Protected inside a cage
Belting out a tune
Loving warmth came back soon
After being swooned
Patrons did say
Heating bill, owner electronically paid
When the tempting tease was done
She approached the admirer, looking for fun
As for the haunting past outside
Confirming someone had lied
And died
"Those pearls fit you right"
Stranger mentioned, eyes bright
"They are a little tight,"
Informed the songbird, preparing for a deathly fight
Confirming fan, a nut
She kicked them in the butt
Finding a cell
Lonely, I must tell
A thousand stars twinkled all at once
A thousand more twinkled in refrain
Swaying palms danced to a gentle breeze
As waves rushed to shore with a melodic strain
The harvest moon flashed a golden smile
As summer memories go sailing by
While the heavens glow in splendid style
As the the autumn wind sighs
I say, can you?
“You can,” says Uncle Sam.
“I don’t have an uncle,
named sam
I am,” I say.
Can you?
You can,
and you do,
go off with boots
on the ground,
stand your ground,
get ground
into the grind
of a half-written rhyme.
Uncle Sam wants you,
who me?
We’ll see.
We will?
We will time our rhymes
to meet symmetrically.
Uncle Bob begs
you to join.
You know Uncle
Bobbing Head.
You agree to meet.
You can’t help
yourself.
You’re a yo-yo,
attached to a
round robin,
writing
in refrains.
Refrain from such nonsense
as calling the uncles
or stepping on ants,
and saying
your ain’ts and cain’ts.
One breath to clear the mind.
Two Hearts beating in time,
Two lives beginning to rhyme.
Three hopes in a deep ocean,
Three ideas now in motion,
Three dreams deep with emotion.
Four winds to desire,
Four acts you require,
Four directions to aspire,
Four seasons you’ll acquire.
Five tastes we will pursue,
Five promises made to renew,
Five senses you must subdue,
Five days of work to get through,
Five ways to make it come true.
Exploring trochee like the skies sigh,
Brushing those emotion lay,
Liberty the freedom so high,
Wording inks featherly cliche.
Brushing those emotion, O, lay,
Exploring trochee like skies sigh,
Impulse thru the impulsing slay,
Painting like there's no why.
Liberty the freedom so high,
Eight seven metric sound rhythm,
Exploring trochee like the skies sigh,
Radiate like colorful prism!
Wording inks featherly, O, cliche.
Poetic seek artful apply,
Unfathomable soul up play,
Exploring trochee like skies sigh!
Music infuse thru deafen ears,
Torchee the heart beating defy,
Turning heart in high joyful tears,
Exploring trochee like skies sigh!
Violin plays a teary note
The wind whispers a sad refrain
Then, through the trees, it starts to float
Violin plays a teary note
Hidden by the night's velvet coat
Owls hoot out a haunting strain
Violin plays a teary note
The wind whispers a sad refrain
Poetry to be had in most
everything -- the ceiling fan for
instance, it's off now; heat slicing
blades silenced --
a ticking clock becoming more
apparent, poetry in the on-wall
antique as well; thinking that if only
crystal moderns we could have outlawed --
keeping strong the heartbeat refrain of old pendulum
swingers....a wind, a fond nudge
when needed, and animation resumes rhythmic
and unimpeded. I miss you.
Written: August 5, 2025, for contest Sponsored by: Nette Onclaud
***********
River,
rippling refrain,
rushing, rolling, revived,
ribbons of rain rearranging
rocks, roots, reflections — reckless, radiant.
Rivulets ripple, ringing rhythms
resound, reaching, reeling
rousing rare range —
River.
New morning sun
Caressed the hills, the quiet lake
New morning sun
Declared the star-filled night is done
With rays that say, time to awake
To the fresh start of this daybreak
New morning sun
Her lover's kiss
Fell on her cheeks like gentle rain
Her lover's kiss
Filled her with ecstasy and bliss
Thunder pealed, sweet kisses again
Heartbeats pound with passion's refrain
Her lover's kiss
4-23-2025
into night's refrain
flavored sighs stroke mound of lips --
weaving sweet passion
Why Can’t We Refrain From:
Gossip that hurts us
War that kills us
Hatred that divides us
Revenge that destroys us
Prejudice that separates us
Selfishness that defines us
Greed that impoverishes us
Corruption that demeans us
Egoism that dominates us
Because sin defines us
I shall refrain
From voicing my political taste
As it varies by occasion
A soft mushy oatmeal
Breakfast
Accompanied by a few
Blushing strawberries
A street vendor hot dog
With relish
And a side of sauerkraut
Washed down with
A finely distilled, purified
Arizona Aquifer water
A “choke and slide” PB&J
On the run
To pick up the grandkids
Fresh fruit and veggies
Of unknown origin
A flavorless meat mime
Of questionable authenticity
Milk, with an expiration date
Longer than mine
Dessert
The hope of the day
Soft, chewy, warmth
Draped in a whipped cream robe
Delivered
To another table.
Sub Categories
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.