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Iska Apr 2019
There once was a rock,
So bold and proud
But upon all others
He did scoff and frown.

He watched as the wistful wind
Tossed the waves up high
As the writhing sea
Draped in dazzling white
Frothed and danced in blissful delight.

He beheld the moon stained sand
As it churned and swept about
As the mighty wind blew the gulls throughout

The endless horizon
That crept to the sea.
Such beauty wasted,
For he truly believed
That none could ever be better then he.

“I am a pebble and I bow to none!”
Were the boastful words he cried to the Sun.
“Nothing could possibly change me!”
He declared to the Sea
“For I am eternal, while you all fade with time.”
He hollered to the Sand, with hubris filled pride.

“Then go forward, little pebble, and challenge the Tide.”
The whistling Wind whispered as they rolled him to the shore,
And the foolish pebble, need hear no more.

Flouncing, bouncing and pirouetting
The pebble lay upon the shore
when the Tide came to play
He told the Tide to “step aside,
For we are not the same.
I shall last forever,
whilst you are destined to fade away.”

The Tide surrounded him in a glittering host
he was then pushed and pulled throughout the coast
As the wild Waves rolled and bounced the pebble about
Before he was spat out once more on the sandy shore.

“INSOLENCE!!”
He cried out in pure rage.
“HOW DARE YOU DEFY ME,
I WHO CAN NEVER AGE?!”

So the Sand devoured him
And swallowed him whole
For how could he possibly not see
That he was not the only one
Blessed with the gift of immortality?

“Foolish pebble”
the Sand hissed in fury
“We are the dust of mountains.
We are the tellers of time
So tell me, little one,
how are you any better then I?”

The pebble stammered at a loss of words,
for such a thought had never occurred.
“As I thought.” The Sand sneered.
“How dare you be so quick to look down upon your peers.”

The poor pebble quivered as the sand spoke again
“If you wish to know eternity,
Look to the water,
towering over the waves.
Stands a Rock, older then both you and I.
Who knows? Perhaps she’s been there since the dawn of time..”

So the pebble turned again to the shore, peering over the waves
And what he beheld left him amazed.

The salt stained stone stood ageless.
Amongst the crashing of waves.
Breathing immortality, she gleamed in the sun.
The winds howled in rage
and the waves tossed their plumes
Demanding to be obeyed
But despite all of their efforts,
The Rock could not be swayed.

The pebble stood, humbled
And regret ensued.
Grief struck his core
and he was left quite confused.
When he heard a kind voice,
Both ancient and new.

“Hello, Little Pebble,
So battered and bruised.
Can’t you see?
The sand rubbed you smooth,
And the waves polished you anew.”

“I know your heart is heavy,
And filled with much regret.
So learn from your mistakes
And don’t you ever forget
That while you are simply a pebble
You glitter with gems from within
And once you embrace your potential,
Your eternity shall finally begin.”

~iska

{we are the tellers of time} is a line referring to the fact that hour glasses use sand to mark the passing of time.
For Grandma P.
Happy 71st birthday
Pauline Morris Jan 2019
One loose Pebble could send me plummeting
And I feel an earthquake coming
Nikos Kyriazis Jan 2019
There is a lack of coherence
in this universe, a pebble
said to me once

How can I be incorporated
to this forest which the
everlasting ages brought me to?
I'm merely a pebble...

The uniformity somehow
cracks beneath the wheel of Time
A new stimulus shall always appear
for the carriage to continue its course

None shall ever stop
the scheme between
God and Time
Sketcher Nov 2018
Once upon a time, there were three young children,
They grew up rather quickly,
They grew up in the same apartment building,
Their names were Jon, Ted, and Mickey,
Jon was a jolly **** that got all the women,
Rarely stuck with one cause they were ******,
Always doing dumb ****, in and out of prison,
Bodies in rivers and pills in drawers,
Tod was a simple man with a nice job,
Looking for a nice and simple woman,
Repetitive days make him bored and sob,
Its hard living on in crowded Brooklyn,
Mickey was a very lovely lady,
Letting the breeze of life pull her,
Pulled to strong men and ready for mating,
With menial men or skillful sirs,
One day Jon was drinking at the towns bar,
When out the corner of his eye,
He saw a girl stepping into a nice car,
So he quickly ran out to say, "Hi.",
This girl was Mickey and she was very rich,
And she was also quite attractive,
Jon tripped and yelled, "*******!",
Slipped on a pebble while distracted,
Right in front of the lovely lad, Mickey,
When Jon fell, he ended up landing,
In his own blood that was red and sticky,
His belt strapped knife was death demanding,
The pebble was stained red with rancid blood,
And it tumbled to a nearby drain,
Swept through sewers fast cause a recent flood,
And many stormy days filled with rain,
Somehow the pebble found itself on land,
Eight days after the event,
In a gazebo, you could see it stand,
Next to Jon and Mickey on cement,
They were getting married this day, it's grand,
And the nice red pebble was there to watch,
Resting in the prongs of a wedding band,
The center stone that was sewer dislodged,
From blood covered to a beautiful jewel,
That was nicely set in the ring,
Life abandons all the laws and the rules,
Of reality and nothing.
A nice little story about a pebble.
I'm a small pebble
making a giant ripple
A speck of black sand
on a coral white beach
The left foot
kicking up a storm

A hermit, a drifter
a paradigm shifter
I am a disruptive
not a destructive force
I think outside of the box because inside I'm lost

I've been Nero, DaVinci
Neruda, Dali
burned as a witch
and now I'm just me....
a small pebble
making a giant ripple
Poem written for a blow-torch painting I did earlier this year.
Paul Jones Apr 2018
A small pebble is placed in the stream. The pebble is carried away.
A large pebble is placed in the stream. The water flows around it.
Sēma is an ancient word for 'sign'. The poetic form Sēma points to signs of change in nature. Using intuition and imagination, a Sēma's meaning can have a human context. To know nature is to know humanity, for they are one and the same thing.
JosilinP Feb 2018
whats the point of my existence? why put a pebble in a stream full of fish
honey Dec 2017
Stony figures,
Slip through my fingers,
Much like a summer day,
Too fluid and fast to hold on to,
To keep up with
Trying to get back into the flow of writing.
IPM Nov 2017
I don't mind
the pebble in my shoe
I don't mind
three words that lost their core
I don't mind
the hidden scars on my back
I don't mind anything
anymore.
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