m 3h
my lower extremities
are coated lightly with
minute shards of glass,
my upper body loose from
chardonnay and sun beams

the water between is only angry because distance is disdain is
disbelief; a family finds solace
in the crashes of sad summer skies
and squinty eyes

i am not happy i am not sad
i am only breathing in the ocean’s
cries for calm, for quiet,
for familiar drunken fights
for love

my sunburn buried deep
solemn claims of reality;
direction is only a force
the stars have put in motion
moons pull me in opposites
but i remain
Anne 3d
keep your eyes closed love.

           e     t      
       m           i
    o                 m
s                        e  
                            s     all you have to
                                                                ­
                                                                ­ l                  is to what the sound
                                                           ­      i            n
                                                  ­                s           e
                                                               ­          t

                                                              ­                               v
                                                               ­                         a        e
                             ­                                          of the  w               s
                                                               ­                                       
                         ­                                                                 ­            tells  you
                                                                ­                                        to do.
"keep your eyes closed love. sometimes all you have to listen is to what the sound of the waves tells you to do"

When I was much younger, beaches were my second favorite places. I still love watching waves as they go by, crashing against each other and the whole process repeating all over again.
During youth I was quite the collector
of ocean cretin's annealed sandcastles
Though the hosts inside could not be cheaper,
their fleshy coats were worth all the hassles

Content I was amassing worn seashells;
daily did this fine collection accrue
Though furnished, barren felt those wooden shelves,
as even pearls are lesser than a jewel

Still, the sand was warm; the waves were soothful
and regardless of what hollowness struck,
the beach granted a chance to feel fruitful
so long as one had either skill or luck

Alone was I, but daresay not lonely,
but I was not merry until married.
Iskra 6d
Sleepy seabirds rest their heads
On downy white feathers
Azure ripples glimmering
In crystalline splendor.

Dry brushed clouds lounge peacefully
In porcelain skies
Seabirds take to lazy flight,
Echo mewling cries.

Golden flecks swirl glimmering,
In indents left by feet.
Coin-sized crabs scuttle away,
No wish to become meat.
Short poem about a morning spent exploring the beach.
There is something about this miraculous sea,
Dexterously painting the sky with different shades,
Entwining the clouds and sun simultaneously,
Clumping the small granules together to form a grandiose castle,
Singing lullabies with its shimmering waves,

A divine abode.
A utopian paradise.

-Khushi :)
I take off one shoe, then the next
I sink into the sand
These grains have not seen the sea in years - centuries
I give them something to feel
The sand swallows me like a pill
As if it’s sick and only I can fix it

I pick up one shoe, then the next
I pull myself out of the sand
The grains stick to me - I can no longer see my own skin
I’m heavy with a need for salt water
The sand sinks its longing into me
As if it’s sick and only I can fix it

I hold on tightly to my shoes
I step into the sea
The grains wash away, I will not feel them for years - centuries
The sand sinks into the sea
But leaves it’s longing with me
When I leave it’s as if I’m sick and only returning will fix me
The concept is that people can send me three words and I try to write a poem with them
raewyn Aug 3
it's the height of this summer, and we sit hand-in-hand
wishing on futures that can't come to pass
the sand 'neath our toes is as warm as the sun
kids laugh like we did when we were still young
the salt on the breeze blows in from the sea
and sometimes i think it's enough, you and me.

we talk about nothing, everything, life:
your secrets, my daydreams, our favourite skies
next summer, you say, we can go somewhere new
but we always end up in our spot, me and you.
the birds can expect us, by now
ah, this place:
like there's nothing on earth but just us, face to face.

next summer we're back, and the waves say hello
(you wink, for they're privy to what i don't know)
"here's something," you say, "just to show how i feel--"
it's a ring, nestled deep in our sandcastle's hill.
and under the burgeoning light of the stars
at last, this place knows we will never be far.

how can we? now this spot has both of our hearts.
Angie S Aug 2
a million miles i've spent
walking along the shore, seeing what kind of people
would wash up here,
were worth it when i found
an iridescent pearl in the sands
looking for a wandering heart.
from nobody else in this world
could a single glance
set my nerves dancing like fireflies in moonlight
and tug for my smile to dance along.
i've forgotten just how much
the sand has sullied my calloused feet.
is this what the fish feel like
when the warm ocean washes over their gills again
to give them life?
fervent, vibrant life?
i just felt like writing a love poem tonight! not addressed to anyone. my poem muscles have gotten a little bit weaker, i've been busy this summer with friends, music, and... transferring. aka, leaving the town i've known my whole life.
i'm trying to keep my life moving! i hope everyone else is, too.
Jade Welch Aug 2
These winds of time
weren't on my side
you took me by the hand

Leading me away from who I was
leaving footprints
in the sand

A pretty life I left behind
now a dark hole I am in
it feels like the emptiness
has stolen me from my skin
April Aug 1
The sea lashes out in anger
Beating against the shore
Nothing stands in the face of the ocean’s wrath
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