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As I lay here, I allow the water to wash over me.
It caresses my skin with its delicate touch, as it laps against my body.
I let it flow through my finger tips, as my thoughts pour out of me.

I plunge myself down inside of it's depths.
Hoping that it will wash away my misery.
Praying that it will bring some clarity to my eyes.

My hair floats around me.
I watch the thick locks swirl around the pool.
I can feel it's slick form wrap around my frame in it's serenity, as my strength bids me goodbye.

One by one my muscles loosen with slack.
They allow the substance engulf my form in a hug.
It's arms are cold and smooth, as they envelope around me.
Without hesitation, the substance drags me deeper into it's inky briny.

As we travel further into the depths, my throat burns with thirst.
I allow the chilled liquid in with hopes that it will relieve my discomfort.
Bubbles explode from my mouth like silent screams.
I trail them with my eyes, and watch them run to the surface.

As I sink to the bottom, I take one last look at the crystal surface above me.
For once, I feel at peace with the world.
This rocky surface is my home until I have to face reality.
chang cosido Aug 2020
this body will never know
that the sea surface
could also be  gentle and kind.
it will only know
the sea's hunger for
things it could claim.
but then again,maybe,
this body was not built
for such gentleness and kindness.
this body was made to sink.
it knows that sunken cities
dont kiss the ocean floor
in a haste.
it knows because
it has been doing it
for years,
- slow,passionate.
all those towering dreams
it spent on building
some unpaved asphalt roads,
some rooms full of strangers,
some quiet places,
some homes made with strength,
some little cosmos patches.
All drowning and sinking.
Just because
i was too afraid to swim.

//but maybe atlantis is a home for lost,hopeless people like me.
Jade May 2020
Atlantis shall rise again.

She will spear through the currents,
until the helms of her cityscapes
cleave the tides
that have entombed her.

In the beginning,
it hurts
as she guillotines
the barnacles
and bottom feeders
congealed upon her brow.

In the beginning,
she bleeds--

she bleeds--


she heals.

Shrugs the brine
from her rooftops
and hails over
the men and women
who sunk her Queendom
all those millennia ago.

As the moonlight
crescendos through
the stained glass,
timeworn prophecies
written in the jagged contours
of greek lettering
reveal themselves upon the pillars:

Atlantis shall rise again.

Ophelia's throne reclaimed
only by the one
who has treaded
The Great Deluge
and survived it

only by the one
who is fluent in
the language of drowning
but has not bowed
to the hurricanes

by the one
with hair like raven feathers
and dark eyes spun to gold
when they look into the sunset

by the one
who is named
after a gemstone,
the most precious
of them all--

Atlantis shall rise again


I shall rise with Her.
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Bardo Apr 2020
Not just another dead word from a
But a magical word...straight out of
Gathered from a fascination with
   looking at maps and Atlas books
And globes of the World
All the different countries in all their
   different colors
With all their fantastic sounding
All spread out in wonderful greens pinks and oranges, yellows reds and
And then... that wonderful blue sweep
   of the Pacific...the Pacific ocean.

Through the eyes of a young small
The wondrous...sweet Blue Pacific
So vast and so full of romance
With its mermaids, its whales and its
Coconuts and palm trees and
   treasured islands
Its flying fish and grizzled pirates,
Its blue skies forever smiling
The surf rolling up onto its sun kissed

.....There long ago I glimpsed the lovely
   blue of her blouse
And the wonderful patterns on it
As she lifted me up and spun me
Just like being up on the swing boats,
And she laughed with her laughing
   smiling face
And her laughing smiling eyes
And I laughed too, out loud and
This was how it should always be
And I didn't want it to end
Wanted it to go on forever,
It brought me a Bluey Bliss
And suddenly all this world it was a
   magic place.

She was like Life or Love itself
Wanting to embrace you and kiss you
And sweep you off your feet
Life, it held so much promise and
So much wonder and mystery
Yea! all was magic in those Summer
The coloured pictures in our comic
The kicking football on the lovely
   green lawns,
The fluttering and flapping of the
   clothes on the clothes line
Were like the sails of a Great Ship...
Sweet dreams and sunbeams as we
   ran out to meet the tide.

And still she calls to me today, wild
   blue ocean
How I love... like that sweet feeling of
The sight of her on a globe or Atlas
And that name like some ancient
It sends me up into the sky
Delights, makes me feel so peaceful
The sweet blue Pacific ocean
You can...can almost taste it.

Sweet intimations of a world that
   came before,
A world underneath...that still lies
Whispering like some sweet lost
Forever calling you back, calling you
   back home.

I'm afraid I can't be more specific
About the wonderful, the beautiful
...The Blue Pacific.
Some words from childhood still have a magic about them. 'The Blue Pacific " still conjures up a lot of magic for me. The girl in the blouse were older girl cousins of mine who used come to us on summer holidays, they'd give you swings and chocolates and smother you in kisses. The 'swing boats' were in the amusement park, you'd get in with someone opposite you and you'd hold on for dear life as the 'boat' would swing back and forth up in the air.
Redaviel Nov 2019
The unknown and ambiguity
                   is where
                    I will
                 ­    they
I sailed slowly, but I sailed forward and onward
Storms and waves, I've found my dear Atlantis
   Where the depths is immeasurable but calm
          I have no regrets, I've waited for you
            And now, if I am going to drown
                 I will not hesitate anymore
                 For below and down under
                      In chaos and silence
                            I found her
Erin Suurkoivu Oct 2019
Break me into chasm
then let the love pour in—
flower into deep well—
stem the umbilicus
of what you could say
you knew of me—

the privilege of living
inside your own head—
and me,
something made of sand,
a wink—

something of one
of many lives ago,
though how well
you knew me—
as did he—
how well they saw me—
and maybe no one did.

We were lovers
in a past life.
And now
I am obscure as
lost Atlantis, origin
of the fairy tale—
as gossamer and
the Holy Grail.
This poem came about after seeing somebody I used to know on Facebook making a comment on a mutual friend's wall.
Hopeless Outlet Jul 2019
When the sun hits
You shine with a stronger light in your eyes
then the stars in the sky
More than a well within you
You're an uncharted body of water
That none have yet to discover
I've never learned to swim
without eventually causing myself to drown
But when I'm this close to you
I'm not afraid to flow with your current
One day I hope to get to the depths
where no one's eyes have been
I want to become king of Atlantis
I want to understand how to live
with the sea and understand it's needs
I want to be quite like Poseidon
let go and breathe
You're like no person above

You are the ocean
I write about my girlfriend from time to time
Diána Bósa Jul 2019
Here in
Mother of pearls.
Iridescent; being pregnant with light,
A world rebuilding - waiting to hold you.
Sea the sun,
Aa Harvey May 2019
Atlantis rises

Under the water a city floats.
Invisible walls protect the people from the ocean.
Above the waves, nobody knows of the city below.
The worshipers lay flowers before their Gods to show their devotion.

For centuries this city has stood against the wave of incoming tides.
For generations its people have tried,
To find a way to live above and not just accept being uprooted;
But there are those would claim to rule,
So Atlantis must remain secluded.
The Atlantian’s feel trapped inside their sphere.
They want to find land; they want a new home and a new frontier,
But this city is the hand they have been dealt.
Even in this united community, there are those who cannot be helped.

They plot and scheme and think of change,
But they cannot wait to see that day;
For they are impatient,
So they act on instinct.
Not willing to discuss, they move with mistrust
And without a sound, they blink…
They disappear and gather in secret to speak.
Security seek them, but the protectors are weak.

The time has come to leave this place!
At night they leap into action, a war on the base.
Guns are waved, orders are shouted;
Shock and awe are a necessity, as to not be doubted.
Stolen ships of exploration;
Part of the human spirit has been taken.

But the community comes together to unite around those who remain.
They still think about those who decided to leave,
But the minutes soon turn into days.
Soon those who left are all but forgotten;
Life moves on without a mention of them.

All that which they stole has been replaced.
Years later a city rises from beneath the waves,
To appear before the world; a mystery unravels.
The people who never existed have found a way to travel.
How did they survive beneath the sea all these days?
With magic and machinery, they found a way.

A future voice; an alien being.
Time travel; all knowledge available to be seen.
As the city grows to reach the land,
The ocean is its arm; the city is its hands
And as the hand rises, the people multiply.
The city continues to grow until it reaches the sky.
Now the ocean is unseen, the land is no longer green.
Everywhere the people look, they only see concrete.

The view disappears;
Sky scraper towers.
Humans have advanced through the years,
But gone are all the flowers…

(C)2017 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
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