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mjad Apr 2019
just as Notre Dame catches fire
does the turtle's situation become dire
as it struggles to get air
because of another plastic snare
one of millions that float aimlessly
Notre Dame will be rebuilt urgently
over one billion dollars raised in days,

but who really needs to be saved?
The amount of money raised for Notre Dame to be rebuilt would be enough to clean the Great Pacific Garbage Patch. Just saying.
Mohammed Arafat Feb 2019
While the sun is setting,
I walk by the dazzling ocean,
thinking,
imagining,
talking to myself,
to the storms inside me,
to the volcanos and the quakes,
talking to my anger,
to my sorrow,
and to every feeling left in me.

It is the end of a new day,
a long one but very short,
full of drama and lies,
with no smiles from those around me.

I walk by the ocean,
while shedding tears,
trying to hide them from the passers-by.
I do not want kids to see them,
so they don’t think men cry.
I keep my dark glasses on.

I walk by the ocean,
not believing in promises,
suspecting the beautified words,
from the fake people.
I walk not believing in fake smiles,
fake laughs or even jokes.

The twighlight gleams and is gone now.
unsmiling people around me are gone too.
After diving down several times in front of me,
seagulls swirling above go to feed their babies,
happily!
They stop singing their daily songs.
Fishermen with dusty boats go homes sweating with joy.
Rich people turn on the lights of the silent yachts to start their night.
The high waves calm down.
The moon is waning crescent,
with a dimmed light.
They left me alone.
I am alone,
all alone,
but my only friend is my heart,
That they hurt.

Mohammed Arafat
26-02-2019
I always thank God for making me smile all the time. However, there are a lot of forgotten people whose hearts became in hallows due to the sorrow they suffer from. They sometimes don't want others to hear them because not everyone will get how they feel and honestly, it's better to be engulfed in the feeling and take out their sadness in a poem.
annh Jan 2019
Blind man walking - heals through touch,
Carries coconut oil in an old jam jar,
Trusts in the magic which guides his hands,
To carry his dusty feet home.
Based loosely on my brief acquaintance with a traditional Fijian bobo (massage) practitioner and healer named Rupeni from the village of Vunivesi, Vanua Levu. Vinaka vaka levu, Rupeni! :)
Keith Mitchell Nov 2018
SF 75
degrees
triggers a blast off
low orbit glide
mount Tamalpais
you’re beautiful not an obstacle
hwy1 with your new asphalt
laying rubber to this situation
can you feel the burn
apex views of the great pacific abyss
light haze floating in to provide
dragon fly
you pitch side by side wave
just before you dart
how did you avoid me?
flying at sixty nine mph
you zip out
while other creatures splattered
on my face
butterflies bouncing on flowers
when I Look around
beautiful blue Pacific Ocean
sharing
negative ions
cherished situation
but where are you
A maiden
of Cypress
she in
a coupe
devill found
her lot
on the
freeway with
me but
on the
week-end we
tour up
the coast
and while
Pygmalion scored
a hit
on tv.
A second television show
Guden Nov 2017
There's a rock
In the ocean
Which I envy,
It's like a tombstone.
A rock that's not always covered
By the Pacific ocean,
It plays with the motion
Of the waves,
Holding its breath
When the water comes,
Like a child going through a tunnel.
Life grows on the rock,
Kelp that help
Holding to the smallest cracks,
Like a bumblebee
Trapped in a web
Heating up in the sun.
Mane Omsy Oct 2017
So he sailed
Towards the insane weather
It rained furiously
A brave lonely sailor
In the Pacific
The sharks, killer whales
They all wanted to race
They betted to break his sail

It wasn’t that huge
Neither a Dutch-man
Nor a Black Pearl
He wasn’t even as Jack
The only mercy he could receive
Is from mother nature
Through the cloudy wild ocean
His voyage to find an island
Where no man will hurt
No human will be animal
No beasts could roar
Will never anchor until he discovers

His adventure won’t be told
Generations after him
He wasn’t having company
Of a strong lady
Or a strong child
He wasn’t expecting to find
A family where he’d anchor

In search for life
In search for peace
In search for humanity
He’ll sail to his death
On that lonely little boat
Seema Sep 2017
I am called an angel
I am called a ninja
I wear silver bangles
My color is of ginger

I have doll like eyes
My figure is of a small coke bottle
I hate tales of flying lies
I live in the pacific portal

I smile when I am sad
Tears are always in abundance in me
I have a temper and I do get mad
I am only a human, you see

I love reading and adore writing
But my mouth ain't a word diarrhea
I love silence and scenery sitings
I've been writing for over an year

I am in love with my adorable dogs
Who make my lone day bright
Cloudy yet windy, misty or fogs
I love this weather, as a cold night

My inner me is a mischief child
I am in my early working thirties
My imaginative writing gets wild
I am quite authoritative

I teach info tech, I love my students
Knowledge sharing is my best part
I am intolerable to fake mutants
But, I hate to see them depart

My name is Seema and I am a free writer
With the challenges I face
Each day makes my life brighter
With the blink of time in trace...


©sim
Introduction.
G Rog Rogers Aug 2017
-Lyrix
-Rockn' Jazz

Cruise my way
to the West Coast
Maybe make the beach
by June or July

Oh it really doesn't matter
No it really doesn't matter

Those blond
blue eyed surfer girls
Me I'll be stranded,
standing and a staring

and Me I'll be breezing
Me Pacific 'n Breezing

Maybe I'll go
And maybe I will stay
If you're looking for me
Look out there in LA

LA I finally made it
LA I'm on my way
through your mountains
Oh it's down onto the beach
out into the streets You know to Downtown LA

Oh you know it's LA
with the wind at your back
and a song that I heard
on the way

Me I'll be breezing
Me Pacific 'n Breezing

Got me a place
on Pacific
Take me a room
on Breeze Avenue

You know it really matters
Everything matters

Dreaming in the
City of the Angels
Living my life the
Angel Town way
A breeze in my face
There never was
a place like LA

and I'll breeze Her
Me Pacific 'n Breezing

Cruise my way
to the West Coast
Maybe make the beach
by June or July

You know it really matters
Everything really matters

and I will breeze Her
Me Pacific 'n Breezing

Maybe I'll go
And maybe I will stay
Oh if your looking for me
Look out there
in LA.

-R.

(79)
-LA
©1980
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