Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
On my exploration, there are still secrets
that kept under my  sleeves; it would be a
twisted knife in my defenseless night.

Between the heaven and sea,
there are traces of him, keeping me
haunted and wandering at it.

Between the orbs and galaxies,
we're building towers,

we're praying and pleading for a myriad miracles,
I nestled gently on his lips,
it was all downhill.
Ian Mackenzie Aug 2018
How I long for the sea,
The sound of a gull and the sea salt air
The discarded wrapper of late night fare
The feel of sand beneath my feet
And afternoon tea
In the late June heat
A short ode to the seaside

Thanks to John Masefield

June 2018
Rive! Split apart,
up and down
circle both ways.
Let the pearl be
down the sea
and the star
up on the high
find the sky.
Not a perfect circle
yet to scoop the last
decimal of Pi
it's fine.
Let a loophole be
only for an eye!
Zywa Jun 9
The thundersea foams,

I rest and the sun dries me --

with its softest hand.
"Schuimbekkend graag gezien" ("With foam at the mouth, so willingly seen", 2019, Marieke Lucas Rijneveld)

Collection "SoulSenseSun"
We look
upon the
the flowers,
“I was once
you, before
my eyes
were known
to your
the wind is
lifting the
gently as
of the sea,
the night
us and
are as
of the
we give,
and yet,
If the Ground was above Us
and the 'Sky' lay Below.
I would still Love U.........Darling,
as U are My Rose in the Snow.
If the Deserts had no Sand
and the Beaches had no Sea.
Concerts would be performing,
without the likes of U and Me.
If Today was Tomorrow
and old Memories turned New.
I would cherish all the flashbacks,
even if they were handful or few.
If only U turn, Days to Nights.
So My Dreams come True.
I would be a very lucky Fellow,
rocking the 'Sky' with U.
I hope to come home soon
but there's no place to call so.
Homesick, i think of sea air
since i turned my back on her.
No return to the sailing city
I mull over a wicked what if.
I ache to spend time alone, no
wind blows in the metropolis.
The crowd belts around me,
blocks view of the lighthouse.
Set anchor in a sea of concrete,
the saving grace’s disappeared.
Chris Saitta May 30
Autumn is a Greek sea,
A summation of wet leaves,
Gathered wicks of sunset,
A hypocaust of warm water,
That lies beneath our feet,
Incense from the Sea of Crete,
Risen to the airy suggestive.

Autumn is a word in the mind, fallen leaf-like to the mouth,
How like the orange rind, our ancient past is shriveled under pillars.
“Hypocaust” is essentially a hollow space under the floor where a furnace then supplied heat to homes, a central heating system some references date back to Ancient Greece but certainly prevalent in Ancient Rome.
spacewtchhh Dec 2020
I love oceans.
I would sit on the shore with massive waves hitting this body of mine
With no one to see and no one to be with.

My lighthouse tried to fill in and gleam,
Yet I swerve,
Yet I ran away from the luminescence it gave.

I leap into the ocean and drown myself into the water,
And within I struggle
Within I suffocate under.

I am terrified of oceans
Yet I feel secure
Yet I could feel the warmth it provides inside.
Next page