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<Frothy waves coated the slippery rock
Seagulls gulled annoying caws
A ship had wrecked upon the beach>  

There he sat
Dazed and confused
Trying to grasp his surroundings
“Thou art alive,” he said to himself.
“Not for long,” replied the sea.
Fear told him to run
Reason told him to listen
Experience forced him to say
“It is true that thou hast lived many a year,
Ye foul beast,
Many a day hast thou slaved upon thine waves.
Just look upon my hands and ye shall see
The scars that time and ye have left upon me.”
He waved his hands in violent gesture
Caulouses cracking in dehydration
Pain a parasitic friend
The sea casually mocking him
“Oh, but I know of thee.
I have looked after thee from afar for many a sun,
And moons have bled and stars have fallen
That cannot give number to the times I held thee afloat
When otherwise thou wouldst have sunk into my depths.”
He laughed and his body ached
A grin twisted his wrinkled facade
Gazing around at the irony of the god
He said,
“Yet here thou sittest, surrounded by thee on all sides
Accursed by thy blasted brethren baking thee alive
And thine water be poison that I cannot drink
Parched with a thirst thou canst not sate
If thou be so benevolent,
Why must thee be so prevalent?”
At this a rogue wave rushed high
A not-so-veiled threat flattening him in proscinesis
“Little man, knowest thou not of my scope?
Thou hast sailed me across the constellations,
Beyond Terra and Firma
Riding Pegasus to Orion
With Polaris as thy guide
Across the entirety of my body have I graced thee
With nigh a swell to impede thee.”
He paused in recollection
Remembering hard days and nights
Pulling his oaken oars with little resistance
To his taskmasters chiming rhythmic timing
“Row… row… row”
A tear rolled down his face to join the sea
“Then why hast thou stranded me here,
Alone to die,
Ostracized from thine protective *****?
What sin hast relegated me to divine flotsam,
Cast away and destined to be forgotten?”
With a splash that could be translated as a laugh
The sea sighed as the tide began to recede
“We all have our limits, little man.
Mine is the earth that bars my current
And thine the body which rides it.
It seems we have both reached our ends
Mine the land
And thine thy life.
It is time that we say goodbye and part ways
Mine to my depths
And thine to thy death.”
With a wash he looked down
Only now realising the ghostly cast of his weathered skin
Slowly he stood and with a few tentative steps
Descended into the God who had taken his life
In exchange for his freedom  

<Frothy waves coated the slippery rock
Seagulls gulled annoying caws
A ship had wrecked upon the beach>

There were no survivors
Yottalomaniac Oct 30
pit...

pat..

So goes the Rain's silent ballad.

Each pit a pat,
a heavy pat on your sweet head.
Pittering pats of despair and dread
pointing toward tragedy dead ahead...

pit...

pat...

Each pat on your soft head
rips a pit into my stomach.
I gaze up... and then down.

...How many more can you stomach?

pit...

pat...

One too many... your lifeless body...
... with the Poet above I plead...

pit...

pat...

The ballad wets the pavement,
the scarlet a testament
of the poetic intent:
our lament.

pit...

pat...

...pit.
A ballad for the person I cherish the most. Some of the symbolism:

Rain: the dark and cold world. It almost feels like we live in a tragic poem written by it.

Raindrops: tragic events; the Poet's verses

triple dots: emotion; lack of words

Onomatopoeia: the raindrops cause pits inside of us, yet also pat us on the head in our melancholy
PERTINAX Jul 6
I have become as steel, forged within frigid winters heart

With a hardness, no desert summer could hope to rust

Sharpened to a fine edge between shifting sands

And grinding glaciers, which, given millennia have honed

Shaping my geometry in such a way as to cut inward

Carving jagged crevasses at right angles to the core

Whose arrhythmic pattern resembles a diseased damascus

Indistinguishable from the delaminations of a failed weld

Running down the length of my spine with spiderweb cracks

Covered by a clever fuller designed to distract the eye

With a stylized straight line, slowly tapering at the tip

Rounded by the blunt force trauma of repeatedly stabbing

The anvil on which I had been so hastily hammered
Heavy Hearted Apr 14
The alarm tolls,
On their rude device-
It's time for work
& yet still, despite
the thousand fascets
of one reality
These
middle-aged
Half-life(s),
These Newbrunswickin Chavs
Wouldn't recognize, really,
That Despite
the riddle's answer, Being  E;
& that double decade,
One might have over me,

When direct
Questions
go unanswered; The respect
I require
(now unvield)
Shapeshifts,
Off, into the past
Oh, how I  become

The Whip

Ruthlessly;
they crack
The Whip                        
& with
All that I am,

the past, In desperation, I forcefully trick
As the blackness, of my being
Forms a darkness,  spilling thick.
Engulfing light- mind's eye's Unseeing,  
Consumes oneself, like a candles wick -
Illuminating every route (for fleeing)
For me, the lights still on- homesick.

Forcefully, faithfully; to keep on believing, & even

just to keep the pathway lit-  by headlight, sunbeam, or doomscrolling trip-
Understand why might a human being
'S now become The Whip
Anything is possible and Nothing makes sense
Odd Odyssey Poet Dec 2023
I am a stone that held a secret,
the echo of a love that was crushed,
And a heart shattered into a million pieces.

That stone skipped over the river of tears,
and carried the weight of sorrow and longing.
Each skip echoed the pain it witnessed,
resonating through the depths of existence.

This stone, forever marked by the power of love,
continues its journey, leaving ripples of
emotions in its wake.
The Tinkerer May 2023
Calm personified,
Words resonating,
Bringing me into my own.

Empathy personified,
The joy, this belief,
We'll never walk alone.

Strength personified,
A Sequoia how mighty you've grown.

Trust personified,
Your presence within,
To have found a home

Care personified,
A hug that breeds warmth in my soul.


~You are~

Love personified,
Like no other,


I only hope you know.
Your love, your care, your soul does not go unnoticed. And sure as hell does not go unappreciated.

You are loved for you love.

Thank you.

~M.A.
Haven't even shed Crocodile tears
Calloused feet and scaled back,
the tear and wear.

Biting wildly and deeply into what feeds me
That desperation is the toll it has me in a death roll
This whirlwind of drip grit and flames; while spinning in the mud I can have no shame.

My pride deluded me to think of myself as an ancient king of lakes and streams.
Watering holes or beachfront property
On a sunny day, my kind knows harmony
We only know war At the movement of opportunity.
A Petty precarious peace treaty:
Survival of the fitness; closed mouths don't get fed
Survival instinct; if you don't eat you'll be the one who loses an arm and a leg

How can I even shed Crocodile tears
When I've become the dread
Adapting or remembering. Was it the blood in my veins or the blood that's washed These eyes.
neth jones May 2022
011
sunrise                                                      ­   ­                                       
first optic pins toe-tipping play across the meadow
wind bends the forrest fringe west away
the trees adverse to receive
priestly daylight
after all the  
    business        
    completed    
during a most
competitive and predatory
                                                   night
brevity homework - personification
Angie Jul 2021
I.
she is quenchable
aching but yearns
to be held
to be fed
to be told
just come to bed

II.
peach crumb cake on the counter
she takes her time
consumes with limits
she feasts
tenderly
modestly

III.
i missed your voice
and i shouldn't say that
not to you
stupid
incomprehensible
intolerable
i think of your lips on mine
over and over all night
and my insides are
soft
squishy
intolerable

IV.
love is made here
in the sunlight in the kitchen
if she would not step foot here
it must not be her

V.
in the laundry room
she is his four paws and tiny nose
poking under the door
she is asking
"what u up 2?"
she is tails that wag and eyes wide
she is racing down the hallway
to the back door
back to the kitchen

VI.
he said he doesn't love her anymore
doesn't feel anything for her anymore
but his eyes glance through the neighborhood
towards her home, their home
his words always find their way back to her

VII.
she is patiently waiting at the front door
chilled wine and fruit
she already drew you a bath
there's rose petals in the water
there's candles across the floor
she doesn't ask to join
she just wishes you her best
tells you to relax and take your time
she is still just a concept
but she is warm and light and beautiful
she is always welcome here

VIII.
lukewarm coffee in the press
you silently watch me grab the ***
then tell me to turn around
you already made coffee this morning
and you tell me it's delicious
simply wonderful
and i am sipping it
on the front porch
it tastes like love used to live here
its been six years since i submitted anything here. we still doing this??
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