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Phoenix Bekkedal Jun 2017
[birds cawing, screeching]
“Mommy dearest I'm bleeding
Through birth I’m feeling”
[trees are leaving]
Grown feet and with large strides
“They leave me here and go elsewhere”
To live, birth, and strive
“Now I’ve got nowhere but the cells in my veins to hide
Where I weep to sleep because pain has sent me
Staggering into a sunset invisible to me”
[not meaning to make it about she,
but conclusions arise that we can’t defeat]
[background chatter stimulates the flight of bees]
[buzzing fills the air, men feel suffocated
and can’t see their free seeping
through their fingers like the sand on the shore
where they’ve left their boats]
[They leave these boats with no mind
even though their fathers planted the trees
who gave their all
to be built into a ship
strong enough to carry the sun]
K Balachandran Jun 2017
Happy aren't you, on what you see here,in  my humble garden?

Life isn't always a garden nice, for some never,one would think.

It would seem a field ravaged by the vagaries of nature,

Even if you try to keep it as the apple of your eye.

Crops get uprooted abruptly,field gets waterlogged,slushy,

Yet you find a far corner nice,clean and dry,a wonder, right?


Sit down there for a while and meditate on such,wonders,

That keep our boat afloat, during the times of uncontrolled floods,

I do that when I am elated, while feeling down and hapless as well.

This world, is created to be good and generates happiness for all.

That's what my dad taught me as we would play hard to get

There and attain goals,without hurting, the  others who compete.

"That" he would insist ,"is the spirit, to be nurtured always"

But then we changed,ideas are now different,we need to speak.

On taming our wild ways,by getting in to the lap of mother nature.

Resolving differences is  a step forward, bad Karmas  left behind,

Every moment of meditation,makes mind a still and clear lake!

"From darkness, lead me to light, I'll gladly share it with others!"

When the light enter in to the sanctum sanctorum of tranquil mind,

What more one would need, isn't living that experience  bliss?
Hae Sun Jun 2017
It's only 5 in the afternoon but I already want to cry
maybe my coffee will help me understand why
I have not much control of my life
the voices inside my head are all mine
but why do the words that come out from my mouth sound so different?
I feel like someone else is steering for me
someone has taken captive of the steering wheel
and I, the captain, am no longer in control of my own ship
I cannot adjust the sails, I cannot turn the boat over
It's like I have been taken hostage in my own home
as they parade it with my name printed in bold colors
Tell me, is this still mine?
Haruharu Jun 2017
I'm back home, on my mountain by the sea.
I close my eyes

I can hear the boat engines, the children laughing.
Water is splashing, the seagulls are screaming.

I feel the sun burning on my face,
and the wind cooling it off.

I open my eyes

I see all the tiny islands and the boats that looks like toys.
They're almost in a straignt line, heading for the horizon.

The sun hitting the water surface makes it look like a glittering sea.
It blinds me.
Everything does.
The beauty of my hometown.

I stand up and feel the salty wind grabbing my hair.
I breathe the fresh air,
I breathe the laughter, the peace, the ocean.
I am alive.
from a day in my hometown on the west coast
Heart raising a hollow mist to the heavens
In the cove this sultry spring’s morning.
Thoughts quicken to brightly colored sail boats
Sitting quietly in their moorings.
Bobbing about to and fro
With masts reaching tall into the fog.
Tethered to land and to each other –
They dance effortlessly in the waves.

Farther out into deeper waters larger vessels
Move slowly about the harbor.
Some anchored awaiting to unburden their bloated bellies
While others sit high in the water to take on new cargo.
Each with a scurry of movement about their decks
In preparation for the chores of today’s tasks.
The pier becoming the object of their labors.

My mind dissected by the peacefulness of the sailboats
And transgressed by the labors of the larger vessels.
A frightfully busy place is the harbor.
A tranquil loving place is the cove.
A visual blend of both seemingly distant worlds
Lie before me indulging my mind into each.

And I wonder…

Am I as this sailboat tethered safely to the shore
Or am I in the harbor scurrying about
To take on the next heavy load?
The mystery hidden somewhere in the blanketing fog.
Walking across the small dock
Feet capture the movement of my sailboat.

I release the chains that tether her to mother earth
And she, I in her belly, move away from her bindings.
No longer restrained sails slip us from the cove
And into the harbor as the sun rises a new day.
The veiling fog lifting to reveal the answered
Question of this mornings predawn endeavor.

The difference between the cove and the harbor
Lies not in the depth of the water.
That depth need not be frightening.
Looking back into the cove from the harbor
I find that it is what I have brought with me –

That is what makes all the difference…..
No matter what we endeavor - it is up to us to make a difference.
Poetic T Jun 2017
Origami sails migrate on the
                        waves of breath,  
motions sway its heading.

a voyage of whispers not
                    collected upon,
Motions are collectively wavering

Shores are never attained for
                              flurries fail,
and it sinks crumpled below.
James Court May 2017
.                                      m                   m                   m
                                      a                     a                    a
                                    ­ e                     e                    e
                                  ­  t                     t                    t
                                   s                    s                    s

                               BOAT           BOAT           BOAT
                              BOAT           BOAT           BOAT
                             BOAT           BOAT           BOAT
                            BOAT           BOAT           BOAT
I'm a boat I'm a boat I'm a boat I'm a boat I'm a boat I'm a boat
    I'm a boat                                                             ­     I'm a boat
        I'm a boat                O         O         O               I'm a boat
            I'm a boat                                                  I'm a boat
                  I'm a boat I'm a boat I'm a boat I'm a boat toot toot I'm a boat
I'm in the middle of a serious depressive episode right now

If you're on your phone turn it sideways
Phoenix Bekkedal Apr 2017
bleach
the pink splotches on my not white clothing are because of you

dilute it and you have soap
drink it and you've got death

hum and click your fingernails if they're long enough to reach the table

rub it into your skin and forget your parents' identity
clean the counter with it

bleach
bleach bleach is for cleaning
Arcassin B Mar 2017
By Arcassin Burnham

On days when you wouldn't speak then
Reply later in the afternoon would be the
Absolute greatest just reviving your presence as
later company than usual,
Telling me all your hardships and me explaining
How to conquer them all in order to keep it
Mutual,
Making things easier for you to allow yourself to
Cope with,
Learning about you all the time
With all the time we put in,
Just two troubled teens in ****** situations thats
Almost impossible to get out of but it takes time,
I'd give up so much of my life here and all my
Family just to be with you in this time to be civilized,
Living life like the people who escaped society to be
Actually free in maintaining themselves and their
Children,
In a time where there would always be time for us
Putting our relationship to the test to face this
Weird world while stricken,
I enjoy that were in the same boat.

/

Me , me , me will always be loving you , you , you,
No matter the cost of anything that we do,
Because what we do...
Resolutes in peace,
Not in pieces,
Your flattered by the overly obsessive compliments,
That's what I do,
To make a queen out of you,
Nothing is long overdue,
For us,
We may fuss,
But most times we act silly,
I'm glad your loving me,
Me...
....Me.
©abpoetry2017
http://arcassin.blogspot.com/2017/03/in-same-boat-me-me-me.html
BJFWords Mar 2017
The owl and the pussycat went on the randan.
The boat was in dock for repairs.
Roller skates borrowed from friends of the Sandman
Proved helpful, but not on the stairs.

The Sandman was eager to help with the journey
The Ferryman told to watch out
The feline and strigidae rolled on the jetty
With meat pies and plenty of stout.

On boarding the ferry they found some dry sherry.
An Amontillado from Spain.
The owl soon felt woozy, all seasick and *****
The cat tried avoiding the rain.

At the end of the trip the two friends would quip
That the pies were amazingly nice
The filling consisted of mustard and biscuit
That compliments meat from blind mice.

Despite witty banter and skills of a chanter
The sun was elusive and grey
Twas then they decided to be less misguided
They’ll book all inclusive one day.

Scots for party/merriment/thedancin’
My take on the adventures of the owl and the pussycat. Part one.
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