Monday is here and there is nothing to fear, the sun has gone down, and the moon has turned around; time is hanging on the tree and patience is waiting for thee. I booked a ticket to sunset land to observe what was going on, the air was not clear and lots of racketeering was going on over there, so I set my ship a sail and move towards of the rail, but as I approached the center of the sea, a sudden mist came out of nowhere and filled the sky that hangs over the sea. The boats were moving about but no one could see what was transpiring in the deep blue sea. Everything came to a standstill, but the mist kept moving rapidly up the stoic hill. Throw the carcass into the sea and let the spirit walk with thee. The creatures of the sea will have a feast and dine with the carcass until the day is done. There is mist over the sea and it is taking my energy away from me, so clear it up before it starts swelling up your gut. There is a mist over the sea, and it is following thee.
This old lighthouse wants to say,
about the cold clouds of gray.
When it rained all night and day,
with the keeper wanting to pray.
Then the sun would come out to play,
making the blue sea a pretty highway.
This old lighthouse saw many ships,
some sailed by and some smashed like a souffle.
Sailing by were many birds of prey,
telling the old lighthouse it was like a cast away.
Old lighthouse even on Christmas day,
I can not getaway.
For the old lighthouse and keeper was it judgment day?
Why did the keeper want to stay?
Why not just run away?
The keeper knew he could not leave ~ no way,
telling God they both were not a runway.
The Voyage
Milking cows at nine years old, how could they
sending a boy to do farm work, saying it was
to alleviate poverty
Good memories were to lean a sleepy head
against a cow's stomach, sleep until the beast
slightly stirred, not once did they kick
the bucket under the udder of an angry cow
Often, cows are gentle creatures.
packed away to sea at fifteen, how dare they
on the ships of Tommy Robertson, where
Kindness was weakness; the strong survive
Or was it an Elon Musk utterance?
A dark port in the Black Sea, a dark landscape
still filled with the fog of war, a mighty land
recuperating after a deadly war
Poor Russia, how it has been hated through
time by Europe, who wanted her cut to pieces
to get to her riches; how they all failed
Russia is stronger than ever before. How dare
They try to diminish her.
The boy has travelled far, so far that he is now
old, a survivor who listens to the howling wind
The wiping wind on the windowsill knows he
was lucky while waiting for the final chapter
That means the collapse of the world order
"A rulerless fiefdom as the smaller ice cap is polarized." ~ by Poet.
White fields of ice, a solemn realm;
Behold, a polar bear wanders, an awesome sight.
Beneath the frozen sea, a vast world calls,
a residual pastel moon,
where penguins and walruses tend their own.
Dark holds as chilly flows, back and forth, and sideways,
and nature’s ancient hollow plays.
Aurora’s arc cascading everglow,
It is a luminous show overhead.
Strike the wintry night sky, northern magic fulfills,
while traversing icy bellows.
Seals’ body maneuvers, plummeting, faithfully,
in the abysmal blue ocean,
darting smoothly and graceful in motion.
Fish’s technique of catching, while getting caught,
as the world is forever changing fast,
with underwater volcanoes,
and the ice is melting swift nowadays.
Water’s rising, and wildlife is fleeing;
Future change as humans awestruck, about their home?
there is a feeling of quietude about the coast
I wonder about the sea, a lingering kind of ghost
romantical and soothing, she brings me to myself
I ponder her inflections, admiring her shelf.
the line is asymmetrical, which appeals to my artistic side.
the lapping water at her edges are dainty in the tide.
she has a unique feeling, that inspires me to want to write.
I feel inspired by this place, she makes my heart feel light.
A pen in hand, my readiness has quintessential power.
tiny glimpses of the horizon show me a potential shower
the coast is as meditative as any natural place can be
I marvel at her beauty, she brings me to the sea.
The wind blasts from the sea, a paper cup falls down
I’m gazing at the sand beneath my feet
Why should I listen to these noises on the background
Is there another small cafe around to sit
Time heals but it remains unclear what
The pain subsides, then it evolves into the new
And that new pain is just exactly like the old
Time’s not a goodwill paramedic in my view
Self-deprecation is a healer free of charge
A tunnel vision tunes the optics of the heart
Troubles diminish, and small pleasures look enlarged
The view clears up and there we are, never apart
Sometimes I’m able to perceive the memories
As if I’m living backwards, sit and wait
Just yesterday, I smelled your roses in the breeze
You said you’d called me, but I called you back too late.
I once had a special place by the sea;
A quiet get away where I loved to be;
My favorite place for God and me.
A solemn place, most Devine
And serene, free of people for a season.
The only sounds I heard were occasional fog horns,
the roaring of the sea, and the still small voice of God.
It was delightful living 4 blocks from the sea.
Now I reside 2000 miles from that beloved sea.
At some point in their lives, like me, I wish
that everyone had a place by the sea; a place
where the sea gulls flock by the sea cliffs,
Where the bounties of nature come together.
Those big cargo ships from far eastern
Shores slowly flowing under the Golden
Gate Bridge was always a sight to see.
I sure do miss my special place by the sea.
No chocolates, no flowers, no sweet Valentine's treat,
Just the bitter taste of defeat.
No cuddles, no kisses, no romance so grand,
Because, darling, you just couldn't handle this hand.
I'm a whirlwind, a hurricane, a chaotic delight,
Too much spice for your palate, too dazzlingly bright.
You wanted a calm sea, a gentle breeze' sigh,
But I'm a volcano, erupting to the sky.
I dance in the rain, I laugh at the storm,
While you sought shelter, keeping perfectly warm.
You craved serenity, a predictable pace,
But I'm a rollercoaster, a wild, thrilling chase.
So no chocolates, no flowers, no Valentine's Day cheer,
Just a solo celebration, with a metaphorical beer
.
Because darling, while you couldn't handle my flair,
There's someone out there who will, I swear!
They'll embrace the chaos, the glitter, the glee,
And find my wild spirit, the best part of me.
So farewell, my love, it's time to move on,
To someone who'll join my crazy dawn.
Santorini, a stand out beauty, a splendor in the sea, a semicircular
Cycladic island in the Southern Aegean Sea with dramatic caldera
landscape so unique, crescent shaped, offering breathtaking views.
The famous whitewashed homes, structures with some featuring
glowing blue domes, cliffs falling into the blue crystal clear waters
of Aegean Sea, spectacular sunsets of dazzling kaleidoscope of colors.
Sadly, located at a fault zone with tectonic activity causing tremors.
Your ravishing my soul and body with the hint of love,
With eyes innocent as a dove.
The reason of my death and my will to live
Is only you..
You're the extraordinary in the ordinary,
And that's how you killed me too...
Like a flame that burns yet keeps me warm,
A raging sea, a calming storm.
You are the silence before the dawn,
The fleeting touch I depend upon.
Your breath is the whisper my heart obeys,
A curse, a blessing, a love that stays.
With every word, you pull me through—
To life, to death, to love anew.
A hunger deep, a yearning strong,
A craving's call, where does it belong?
Is it the steak, the burger's bite,
A beefy feast, a savory light?
Or poultry's charm, a chicken's grace,
A turkey's plump, or goose's chase?
The flavors dance, a tempting plea,
But still, the hunger, wild and free.
Perhaps the sea, a briny call,
Clams, lobster, fish, to stand up tall.
Seafood's scent, a salty spray,
Will it appease this restless day?
This craving's grip, a burning fire,
A bottomless pit, my soul's desire.
A house devoured, soil and stone,
Yet still unsatisfied, I moan.
Veggies bright, a salad's gleam,
A tummy's thrill, a vibrant dream.
But will the greens, the lettuce's crunch,
Quench this deep, insatiable hunch?
Chocolate's swirl, a donut's treat,
A salty crunch, oh so sweet.
My cravings roam, a boundless spree,
For every flavor, I long to be free.
Born here and never will I leave,
in Canada I do believe;
with the frozen snowflakes I grew,
sea, to sea, to sea, a vast blue.
The Atlantic is in the east,
go fishing and have a fish feast;
you will have lots and lots to do,
sea, to sea, to sea, a vast blue.
The Pacific is in the west,
go for a nature walk if stressed;
glide though unspoiled scenes in canoe,
sea, to sea, to sea, a vast blue.
The cold Arctic is in the north,
take an adventure and set forth;
and perhaps sleep in an igloo,
sea, to sea, to sea, a vast blue.
We have rivers, lakes, falls, and streams,
alpine meadows that seem like dreams;
as birds sing a hullabaloo,
sea, to sea, to sea, a vast blue.
The maple leaf is our symbol,
on our flags it is a ripple;
Canada like a ...Xanadu,
sea, to sea, to sea, a vast blue.
I have found freedom and safety in my madness,
like a secret forest where the wind whispers unknown secrets,
the freedom of solitude, where the echoes of footsteps are just for me,
and the safety of remaining misunderstood, an invisible fortress
that shields me from gazes wanting to pierce beyond the veil of mystery,
for those who understand us enslave a part of our soul,
collectors of stars trying to capture light in glass jars.
In the labyrinth of my mind, every turn hides a universe of thoughts,
where the misunderstood becomes an unbounded sea, a refuge from those
who would decipher my secrets, and in that freedom,
I find my true essence, like a butterfly dancing among shadows,
knowing that in every moment of solitude, it gains its wings of freedom.
Thus, I continue to wander through inner landscapes,
where madness becomes a sanctuary, a world of dreams and hidden desires,
seeking the infinite in every corner of my soul,
knowing that true safety is to never be fully revealed,
to always carry with me a touch of mystery, a secret realm
that only I can explore in the silence of my consciousness.
Stone, kissed by salt, sighs on the isle,
A Gothic spine, against the tide's guile —
eight centuries, etched in weathered stone,
A whispered prayer, a lonely throne.
Granite fingers, reaching for the sky,
Embrace the sun, as shadows fly.
As a timeless grace, the abbey stands as
A sanctuary in this watery space.
The sea, a restless, murmuring friend,
Whispers tales, to the tide's relentless end.
Each ebb and flow, a rhythmic beat,
A soul's lament, on an island's feet.
Columns rise, like ancient trees,
Reaching heaven in the salt-laced breeze.
Tranquil silence fills the air,
Faith's fragile bloom is beyond compare.
Granite heart, a watchful eye,
On shifting sand and moonlit sky.
Time, a tide, relentlessly sweeps,
The abbey stands; its purpose remains.
A whispered hymn, on wind-blown waves,
Hope, a beacon, on these lonely caves.
The abbey's soul, a steadfast light,
A testament, to human might.
In the depths of the ocean blue,
Lies a treasure so rare and true
A jewel of the sea, a hidden gem
Something lost, beyond our ken
It sparkles and shines with a radiance bright
A beacon of hope in the darkest night
But alas, it remains out of reach
A mystery that no man can breach
It’s beauty unmatched, it’s value untold
A secret treasure waiting to unfold
We search and we strive, but still we fail
The elusive prize, like a fleeting trail
Yet in our quest, we find something more
A sense of wonder, a longing core
For in chasing the unattainable dream
We discover the magic of the unseen.
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.