Skim Poems | Examples

Of Pelicans and Seagulls

Here within the haunting howls
of a wild west wind
I savor the island’s isolation 
its barren, rocky crags
its undulating seas below. 

The deep blue ocean expands outward
where whitecaps whip frantically 
while the beady eyes of seabirds 
peer out from their stony perches. 

Stoic sentries of the sea
pelicans and seagulls flock 
along the rugged shoreline 
purposefully perched in rows
or drafting wind currents in flight. 

Still other seabirds skim silently
above the silky waves
great hunters of fish, ever searching 
their feathery wings are spread wide
as if to capture the ocean itself. 

A timeless rhythm prevails here
as effortless as breathing pure salt air
a place where land and sea convene
a place where seabirds reign
as vigilant watchers 
within the endless cycle of life.

What the Wind Remembers

There was a time when the child was the center of the circle. The elders sang her name into the morning, braided her hair with stories, fed her with hands that had known hunger. She was carried across rivers of doubt, through storms of becoming, and placed gently at the edge of her own path.

Now she walks with her head full of noise, measuring love by the frequency of messages, forgetting the songs that once held her upright. She says they are silent. That they do not call. But the wind remembers. The wind remembers the prayers whispered into her pillow, the sacrifices made without witness, the tears that fell into the soil to make her strong.

She has grown tall, but not deep. Her roots skim the surface, searching for mirrors instead of water. She has learned the names of stars, but not the names of those who lit them for her. The elders do not chase. They wait. They speak in the language of patience, of time that moves like rivers underground. And still, she does not hear.

ghost wind through cedars—
names carved in the bark still sing,
but no one listens

The Folly of Buzz and Blur

You whirl, you whir, a sparkler with no plan.
A frantic rush, chasing all you think you can.
Each flip is fragile, fleeting, never really sown.
A scatter gun feast, that leaves you all alone.

You blaze as if the world will soon ignite.
Your tiny body burns with furious light.
Your haste is commanding, yet what is it worth?
Without pausing to taste the fleeting mirth?

The garden knows your madness; it makes it clear,
That no blossom trusts your beat to linger near.
You skim, you dart, you never claim the whole.
For your shallow sips can never fill the soul.

A slower hand, will plant, endure and stay,
Learning the patient slow cadence of the day.
For haste will scatter, shatter what was planned,
Quickly yielding the dust you cannot stand.

Why do you not linger longer at what you sip?
Your feet are a blur; your body is a whip.
But, why this panicked, fevered, fleeting chase?
What force is driving you at such a pace?

Can menacing winds command you to not rest?
Or are rivals sneaking in, invading your nest?
You know a steady heart, outlasts a flashing one.
Playing slow and stead get the victory won.

What Makes Me Smile

Greeted by the sound of the ocean all sadness eases away 
as I skim the surface of a smile, I suddenly make headway
Showered by rainfalls I am filled with the scent of petrichor  
I smile, at the thought that God has cleansed me to the core;

Connected to a Higher Power I am an exquisite human being  
smiling for a thousand reasons that only I can totally illumine 
Invented out of dust I have become the beating heart of love
and I have a million reasons to smile un-mentioned there of     

Loved by many understood by few, I am the twinkle of a star
I smile cuz deep inside I know there is nothing that can mar 
Abled and armed with compassion and passion I am strong 
I smile because I know I am, the breath of everything I am

What makes me smile is the thought that I am never alone   
I have Angels at my side, that I don't need to call or phone    
In a heartbeat they are there right beside me everywhere
in sickness or in health I know His Love is always, there  !

Summer At a Riverbank

Summer arrives in golden light,
Mountains shed their snowy white.
The river moves with joyful gleam,
Shining bright in the sun’s beam.

Through rocky beds, she winds with ease,
Nourishing earth in tender peace.
Quenching the thirst of Pines and Firs,
Thriving the bushes around her shore.

Seasons shift, and colors grow,
Tree tips shimmer, blossoms show.
Daisies dance in meadows wide,
Sweet peas bloom with gentle pride.

Roses bask in warming rays,
Grapevines promise fruitful days.
Stellar Jays call, loud and free,
Swooping bold from tree to tree.

River whirrs in rhythmic sound,
Phoebes dart and skim the ground.
Gathering meals with steady flight,
Feeding their young in shimmering light.

A mink appears as dusk unfolds,
Gliding quickly through night’s hold.
The midnight bear roams wild and deep,
Claiming the land while others sleep.

By the river’s edge, my spirit sings,
Breathing life where nature springs.

Back Yard

Back Yard
 Just sitting on my back porch.
 In my back-yard.
 Looking into the sky.
 No worries.
 Keep things simple.
 Take it easy today and tomorrow.
 Live alone.
 That’s the way it goes.
 See birds fly.
 Skim through the air, by and by.
 Just wondering.
 Just relaxing.
 Take in the air.
 Smoke a cigar.
 Live out in the country.
 This is how it should be.

On the River

Morning, the river belongs to the geese
Who congregate on the bank
Poke about in the grass
Run, take flight, and land on the water
Heave their wings to skim the surface
Noisy and honking, splashing
As they inhabit their domain

Afternoon, the river belongs to the people
Who gather as families and friends
Lying on the grass
Swing out on a rope and land in the river
Or climb in from the bank’s edge
Shouting and calling, splashing
As the inhabit their domain

Wind Binder

Wind Binder
First plane to fly 1903.
A flying machine.
Made from the Wright Brothers.
Take flight through the air.
Glide through the horizon.
What an amazing feeling.
Transport here and there.
The sky is transparent.
What an accomplishment.
Skim through the clouds, air lift.
Breathtaking views.
With sunset hues.
Embrace the ride.
There is nothing like it.
What a heavenly sight.
Fly high.
Fly away in disbelief.
Fast as a bird on silver wings.
Leave everyone behind.
A wind binder in the sky.
A place to be free.
Feel the cool breeze.
Miles into the unknown.
The sky for me is home.

Sailors' Souls

Solitary seafarer sings sea chanties,
salty sea breeze serenity,
sea birds skim waves,
suddenly, so many sailors' souls
of the sunken WW II ship USS Indianapolis
started singing sonorous,
soaring from sea sepulcher,
stirring sacrifice so sacred,
such sorrow,
souls still scintillating, still seaward,
servicemen shipmates solemnized,
seared, sealed in spiritual solidarity,
salute. ~

Boring Life

Buy orange juice. 
It’s on the list. 
There’s nothing like it. 
Nothing. Nothing. Nothing at all. 

Buy milk. 
There’s two percent. 
Whole milk. 
Doesn’t fill the void. 
Doesn’t make me less depressed. 
Skim milk.
Is disappointing and watery. 
I wish I could figure out what’s making me depressed. 

Buy bread, and coffee. 
Buy new clothes, but they’re work clothes. 
Work shoes. Work ties. Work work. 

I bought a new lunch box. 
It’s blue, but a plain dark blue. 
I filled a mug of coffee. 
Hot or iced?
Maybe I’ll just let it get lukewarm.
Cream and sugar. 
I forgot to buy any. 
So the bitterness accompanies me. 
I’ll probably forget next week as well. 

Buy crazy clothes. 
Buy an inflatable pool. 
Buy a new grill. 
I make all the money that orbits my world. 
That could disappear with my own free will. 
I might disappear one day. 

I could do something like buy-
Anything that pops up on my phone or computer. 
Anything at all. 

Buy orange juice. 
I bought one with pulp today. 
Not too much though. 
I inserted my credit card. 
And cried in the car that day.

Deprived of your love

Like a raging river barreling toward an arid basin,  
sediment collects inside a hardening heart.  
Weighing heavy, eyelids flutter over drowning maculas;  
all that can be seen are murky riptides.  
Vision cuts out.  
Frantically flaring arms desperately try to skim the surface,  
dragged deeper into an unknown chasm.  
Sub-zero temperatures shroud panicking flesh.  
Prying eyes open, undiluted pitch darkness surrounds.  
Gasping for oxygen, lungs inflame.  
Excruciating pain catapults through weakening legs.  
Safety is nowhere to be found.  
Reaching into an intolerably tight pocket,  
I feel for your disintegrating picture.  
My savior became my impending doom.  
Only evanescent memories remain  
at the bottom of this watery grave.

ECHOES OF THE LAKE

Trumpet-like lilies by the lake
preen for the flamboyant flamingo,
sifting through the murky waters,
searching for algae and shrimp
where crawdads click and clatter.

While silvery fish glide stealthily
leaving barely a ripple behind,
a chorus of frogs’ croaks
echo like the whining twang
of a plucked banjo string.

Dragonflies skim the water’s surface
as their translucent wings shimmer
like gems in the sunlight,
dart about the amaranth lilies
waltzing in the summertime breeze.

How to Hunt Love

Throw an arrow, remember to sharpen it before it reaches it's end target 
Who is naïve enough to cross your parameters of closeness 
Capture this person whose mere sight you adore 
Aim at their legs, your prey will land face first on the floor 

Don't be scared, Don't you worry
This is how love is meant to be 
Or why would cupid, on his smooth back, so many bad intentions carry?

Or why would the heartbreakers or cheaters not worry about their actions
If they didn't know, love is never a synonym to passion, but pain 
To confusion and spiraling games 

Love was never stable enough to stay after an orgsm 
Love, they repeated over and over
Yet it felt like it had just slipped off their tongue

Bind love in ropes of promises, skim apart their soul
Listen to their heartbeat till the gushing of their bloody lies couldn't be ignored 
You'll know when the prey gets too weakened, it can't move
Just fall apart into broken shreds of a beautiful story 
Piece by piece, Complete the jigsaw pattern
That lasts people eternity, then you can congratulate yourself

You've caught your prey

Memories In A Frozen Mist

You are locked away in a frozen mist
Your hand once warm upon my knee, my phantom limb—
the sky atop your shoulders I kissed.

You were never a man who balled your fist
Instead, your eyes had guilt in a chrysalis brim,
And for that I find my cold love an agony to resist.

Yet there’s a delicious and chilled knife to twist
And I can gorge myself on your blood and grim, oh once!—
the sky atop your shoulders I kissed.

The world may burn like Hell, that’s the gist
But flames are the rough tender warmth, and at your whim
I’d rather endure the icy planes of the forgotten than the missed.

Is the curse to become you, or have me for you to dismiss?
My grievances do not choose to end, so I reach up and skim
the sky atop your shoulders I kissed.

Through the mist I see your figure, this tundra shall persist
So mark my words, only with the sun shall my love and hatred dim.
My lungs freeze with my heart, I cannot again sing your hymn
For the sky atop your shoulders I kissed.

Headline Deep

Perception is reality…who needs the truth?
The court of public opinion won’t ask for proof
Peeling the onion is too much to bear
Skim the surface and pretend to care

Crash landing…nothing stands
Quick conclusions in careless hands
Reckless abandoning facts dismissed
Split and stitched to fit the twist

Clear the cobwebs no time to stall
Scroll, react and read nothing at all
Rewriting history bit by bit
A headline is enough. Who needs grit?

Looks aren’t everything yet they decide
Sapping joy while fueling pride
One-click affection with baseless praise
Fifteen minutes…gone in a daze

Real content buried lost in the stream
A love affair with the algorithm’s scheme
Divorce the cycle if you dare
The unholy union keeps you there

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