The Panic Tide
The pulse begins its frantic drum,
A breathless rising of the tide,
As all the silent terrors come
To strip the peace away inside.
The palms grow wet, the cold sweat breaks,
The color floods a flushing face,
And every tethered muscle aches
Locked deep within this sudden space.
A jaw is clenched, a lip is torn,
The desperate teeth bite down on nails,
As from the throat a gasp is born,
Where every steady sentence fails.
The fingers curl to tight-bound fists,
The hands fling upward from the fright,
While trembling through the limbs persists,
And knees will jerk against the night.
The breath comes shallow, hard, and fast,
A heavy gagging stalls the air,
The body tenses to the last,
And screams aloud in its despair.
In reaching through the blinding storm,
The frantic fingers stretch to find
The safety of another form,
To anchor what is left behind.
SILENT TIDE
My sweet sunset glow was silhouetted
in my sight.
As the lovely breeze wafted towards
a beautiful night.
With warm, mellow sparks glimmering
in soft, magnificent light.
The sunset kisses softly,
caressing the stillness of the silent tide.
RMV 29/08/26
Waves crash
Before me.
They have already swallowed me whole,
And spit me back out.
Waves crash
Before me.
We fool ourselves,
Believing the ocean's waves
Are gentle things that stroke our skin.
Waves crash
Before my dream.
They are already watching me.
They swallowed my dream once more,
Only to cast it back.
Lying on the sandy shore, watching the waves for a moment,
With me sprawled upon the sand,
The waves narrow their eyes
And gaze down at me.
In the May sunshine,
The waves crash once again.
As if growing weary,
They carry me away.
Into the vast, maternal amniotic fluid,
I gaze up at the sun,
Listening to the primordial heartbeat of a mother.
When midnight turns the corner
another day will begin
but only time and tide can tell
what it holds within
for man's best laid plans
are made of smoke in the wind
on which his hopes and desires
are pinned
from a fading moon to a rising sun
dreams may be superfluous
for who's to say at the end of the day
what will become of us
Low - empty space yawns
rising imperceptibly
High - weight of volume
Crown-like
Indigo Spring
We gather contentment
Peace rolling in like ocean waves
Zenith
He's not the boy she used to know
wherever in the world did he go
nor the man we once knew
but it only goes to show
time and tide took its toll
for all that he's become
and just one look will soon tell
if he'll maintain or succumb
as overwhelmed by numbers
and totally surrounded
through all weather can he ever
remain steadfast or grounded
Deepest indigo, the ocean chills.
Gleaming lights captured as the water stills.
Lapps the shore in readiness for the evening tide.
Only froth and foam remain as waves subside.
The darkness releases a magical rhythmic song.
Emerald moonbeams are sprinkled just where they belong.
Abundant with radiant sapphires to illuminate the story.
Nothing remains as it is, yet for tonight we bathe in the ocean’s glory.
Our lament for time well spent…with Farmer's market regulars Pip & Lizzie the pair are a sartorial oracle and festive fillip with follicle flair....was a delight to share forever memories at our locavore lair...
Through the mist of memories we sift
With whiffs of yesteryear cheer sniffed
Rides on sublime tides of time we drift
Rain again regulars refrain visit biffed
Others defending..spending limit thrift
Quiffed punter chunter I've been stiffed
Will harp on gets swift short sharp shrift
After rafter of laughter graft or grift
Miffed by dafter manager’s latest rift
Not the first time we have ever tiffed
One thing that will always give us a lift
Makes our hearts sing on a busy shift
Stops any tizzy thrill of fill of Phil & Lizzie
A heaven sent present our favourite gift..
The distant deep begins a
low refrain,
A heavy breath upon the
ocean floor,
A rising power born of wind
and rain,
That rolls in secret toward
the waiting shore.
It lifts its crest against the
fading light,
A liquid wall of sapphire,
fierce and high,
A sudden shadow cutting
through the night,
To trace its spine across the
open sky.
Then comes the crash, a
brilliant flash of foam,
A roar that shakes the sand
beneath our feet,
As if the wild expanse has
found its home,
And makes its long,
tumultuous life complete.
But soon the thunder fades
into a sigh,
To leave a mirror for the
evening sky.
Conquer and divide
Truth is put aside
Freedoms continually denied
Propaganda is how they've always lied
A world through armies forever homicide
The time has now come to stem this evil tide
Spread the word of love that comes from deep inside
Heal the wounds of separation of a gulf that's far and wide
Each individual come together a loving collective we must urgently decide
Neap Tide
early morning walk
neap tide is out
slippery stones still wet
sun’s rays pierce the cloud cover
cold gray water laps against the shore
sharp salty tang in the autumn air
not another creature in sight
I am lost in the aloneness but,
in no hurry to return home
Life is all about leverage
both overt and implied
To move the world ever forward
and sail the highest tide
Subtle it nudges intention
exerted our missteps reclaimed
It magnifies every action
— restoking fortuity’s flame
(Dreamsleep: June, 2026)
Freeing The Verse
To have a poem
but not the words
To bring the message
home
Intention firm
and feelings clear
But silence
sits the throne
Awaiting vowels and consonants
regifted from a sage
A marble block of verbiage
to sculpt upon the page
And once each phrase has taken form
it’s wed to feelings true
To free the verse that faithful waits
— unheard inside of you
(Dreamsleep: June, 2026)
“Some nights the universe leans close, allowing the world to shine back.” quote by the author
An empty house sits on the hill,
its windows holding their breath
watching the night’s unfolding
as the sky loosens a jeweled tide.
Then the stars begin to move~
not falling, not scattering,
but flowing in a glowing river
that crests at the doorstep
before spilling down the slope
in shimmering, impossible waves.
Colors, unnamed and brilliant,
roll across the countryside,
painting the grass in shifting constellations,
turning every stone and fence post
into a lantern of borrowed light.
The house doesn’t flinch~
its etched silhouette stands firm
in the radiant flood
as if it has always known
the universe would one day
come to its door
and pour itself out
in waves of living starlight.
Breathless~
("Blue Egg in Red Sea", 2020, original oil)
According to our betters,
The Karens who rule the internet,
We should all be aware enough by now
To know what is expected of us,
And so suitably clothed
In political correctness
Never offend again.
In this way each generation
Will leap and bound
Ever adapting
To the latest trend
All together now
In harmony all
Flotsam on a tide.
(5/16/26)
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