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 Feb 2018
Chloe
there is a road on the ocean
and it goes on further than I can see
a thin strip of pale wood
that cuts the waters in half

i stand upon this endless road
in the middle of an endless ocean

from the moment i saw it's beginnings
stretching out from the sandy shore
i stepped upon its pale worn planks -
there was no hesitation.

                                                              i watched the land grow smaller
                                                                               and stood surrounded
                                                                                by the great grey blue;

                                                                                            blue above and
                                                                                                    blue below
                                                                and a handful of blinking stars.

                                                                                   overhead and under
                                                                          the cloudy waves shifted;
                                                     a gentle kiss of foam upon my ankles.

i sit upon the path of no end
and i will wonder;

i've walked miles upon this road
but i can't go up
or under.

who is to say that there is an end
or a purpose in its presence?
how much longer will my legs carry me-
will I ever find my answer?

my heart sinks into a sea of stars
my mind is lost in the clouds,
but my feet, my feet will always tread
on this wooden road built of the earth.

there is a road
on the surface of the ocean
and that's as far as i can go.
you set out on a path, excited to see where you will go. you're so sure that this is the road you're meant to follow, and that as long as you walk it's path you'll find your desired end. and yet eventually, along the way you realise that there's so much more than mindlessly chasing the promise of a dream.

but you've travelled so far, is it worth it to turn back?
 Feb 2018
Grace
I go outside to escape my self
and the end and the inevitable
and I sit admiring the night sky
until the stars become the scattered
words I’m trying hard to understand
but seem completely unable to.

I look up into that dark blue night
and I wish it was the ocean.
I wish the world was a fading purple
sunset. I wish the world was
the moonstone blue of the sea.

I’m drowning in the night sky instead,
in all this vast intangible vagueness.
There’s no edge, no shore to the sky,
just stars and then stars and then stars.

I want to be on the shore again,
feeling alive, feeling maybe, just maybe
there’s a little hope in the waves that
have always been able to comfort me.

See, the sea is full of lonely moments,
losing moments, shipwrecked moments,
but it is also the place of liminal on the shore
moments, meeting moments, happy, maybe moments.

But here I am, sitting beneath the sky, not the sea.

I came out here to escape yet all I’ve found
is the inevitable in all its dark, vast, uncontainable glory.
I look away because I don’t want to see it.
I look away, because now it’s the end,
I’m not ready to leave.

I gather handfuls of cold to my chest
and take it all back inside with me.
I dream of the ocean. I long for the sea.
Maybe one day I'll write something where I don't go on about the sea. Maybe one day I'll feel at ease with the sky. Maybe one day I'll write a poem that doesn't sound the same as all my others.
Maybe, just maybe
(probably not)
 Jan 2018
Cné
immersed in the sea
a sphere of passion glitters
as the tide appears
 Dec 2017
Jeff Stier
It is all flowing uphill
back into the tributaries
into the headwaters

Life returns to its source
at the end
Chinook salmon spawn in their natal streams and die
their bodies nourish their young
who make haste to salt water
then return from the sea
to repay the favor

Uphill it is for us
a long slog, it seems

We are dedicated enemies
of entropy
unconscious
yet knowing our duty

So these are your instructions.

You must wake each day
and know it as a gift
never pause in worship
never cease your upstream struggles
until it is time
for such foolishness to end.

Grit and muscle
heart and will
life is short
yet sweeter still.
 Dec 2017
Nylee
me
I am not who I say I am
I am someone who
I have forgotten myself
names not me
my face is not me
my eyes not mine
my soul calls me down within
it rejects my reflection
I and the soul in division
who am I?
 Dec 2017
Carina
Standing on a secluded cliff,
Turning my eyes to the sea.
I try to net with the smallest sniff
What freedom and oblivion may be.

The waves crashing onto the rocky shore,
Each one inevitably fading away;
no longer being part of the bore,
but instead washing over the bay.

I wonder how it feels giving up to the stream;
My lungs filled with endless devotion.
For I realize the waves crashing to be redeemed
Don´t matter as long as they're part of the ocean.
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