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Maja Aug 17
her tears fell
salty like the sea
in which she drowned
her feelings out
so she cried
and her heart shrunk and dried,
it turned from soft to bone
because you can't
squeeze blood from a stone
.
.
.
I left behind a home
Though one in only name
I know not what I search for
But couldn’t stand it be the same
To be bound was to be free
In the confines of a cell
Yet to be free is to be bound
By no good that I can tell

In taking to the seas
I hoped for some great change
But found that all things blended
And only varied in their range
I had not found myself
Among the waves or great white coast
I thought a path had opened
But it vanished as a ghost
No one or thing could remedy
The hurt I fostered close
No one or thing could change it
But the one was wounded most

So here across the Farrow Sea
I pull a dagger from my heart
Here on distant shores I sit
A world and man apart
#heart #hurt #healing #journey #ocean #sea #adventure #man
Louise Jul 28
If the green waves in Siargao
and the blue swells in La Union
could meet somewhere and speak,
what would they talk about?
In what language, even?
Ilocano? Bisaya? Tagalog? Español?
Or perhaps the better question is;
what would they 𝘯𝘰𝘵 talk about?
If the waters of Siargao could introduce itself
to the northwest wind of La Union,
I think,
they would create waves more gigantic
than Bondi or Nazare.
And if the eastern Pacific wind of Siargao
kiss the West Philippine Sea beside La Union,
I believe,
they would cause tsunami bigger than Japan's.
The waves would be bigger than anywhere else,
together they would be the best.
Or they could be the worst.
And so God willed La Union in the northwest,
and Siargao further down south in Mindanao.
And so they could not speak, meet and kiss...
Sophie Jul 7
I know, with absolute certainty,
that if I drowned,
****** under
by the relentless power of the sea,
you would not hesitate
fighting nature to save me.
Cyril Jul 2
To be the wave that spills onto the shore.
To reach and to retreat, like dancing to the beat predicted by the wind.
Watch me as I gently ebb away from the sand, carrying your secrets safely to unimaginable depths.
1 am poem. Draft
****** off and get a coffee, leave me in my chair
alone to watch the waves and bones
and the fractured wind-washed water stones
a canvas canute,  imperious I command the tide,
go back I say, come forth no more,
I speak therefore you must abide
and stand astride as the rushing waters flee my hand
retreating from the scatted margin land  
they fear my wrath, and plot amongst themselves in bubbled froth
regrouped replenished forces gather forth to rush and overtake my seat
wet and bloodied but unbowed I hold my ground and kick my soaking feet
neither of us is willing to admit defeat
Sunset

A Chess Set

Books to Read

Cups of Tea

Music

And a Sea View

For  WHO and ME?

On Mondays!

Ha!

Then WHO will plan the rest of  the Week?

I know!

Take it as it Flows!

Sweet!

(c) Debra Lea Ryan
27/06/2024
☀♥ƸӜƷ✿♬
Communicating to my Sense of Self! Ha!
Moon Cherry Jun 23
The ripples of water
Bursts into multiple waves
Merge as a river
Haiku
Be still my Friend
Relax its okay
Allow your Heart
To have its way...

In the Beauty of Silence
Feel your Flame
Peace in your Heart Today

Though the Seas get rough
And the Storms are tough
Tune out from beyond
Then hear Your Song...

In the Beauty of Silence
Feel your Flame
Peace in your Heart Today

There you go
Now you Know
Your World you see
Is how you want it to be...

In the Beauty of Silence
Feel your Flame
Peace in your Heart Today

Ride the Tides
With love inside
Peace lives On
Yes On and On...

In the Beauty of Silence
Feel your Flame
Peace in your Heart Today.

(c) Debra Lea Ryan
08/03/2009
Heart Desire For All!
aa Jun 22
One must have a mind of the sea to regard the waves and sandy shores of the salted winds encrusted with shells and past souls.

And have been one with the ocean to behold the sea glass's aquamarine lustre. The encompassing hues of blue highlight the luminescent bacterium.

Swimming in the deep torrents lie miserable souls who jumped overboard, mesmerised by the blues.

Of the July sun, and not to think of any misery sung by the sirens, I was told through the wistful wind in the sound of the shells and conches.

Which is the sound of the waves full of the same wind. That blows through the murky water.

For the listener, dweller, and lover who resides by the shore

And nothing of themselves beholds that of the sea, nothing that is not there, and nothing that is.
Used a prompt and  based off of Wallace Steven prompt
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