Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
amanda barlow Oct 2018
I thought about Norfolk and Norfolk folk,
And Norfolk bricks and the Norfolk coast,
I thought of winds in a hollow dune and waveless seas
Where the heat washed a breeze -
Into a summer fret!

Where hawking gulls who balance by
point towards straight roads at sunrise
Where the hillocks fall down to
The summer's edge

In the wash of the Gibraltar flats
Reflected fractions of a perfect sky
Form blue pools in the heated sand
The stuff of dreams
That Norfolk
Land
in april my parents and i
went back to the
east coast, new england,
for a funeral.
my mother grew up there
and i was born there.

i hadn't seen the ocean in
11 years since we left.

i miss the waves
i miss the cool
sea breeze
the seagulls
the marinas
the houses on the water
the random shops
i miss everything
it's more of a home than
this house in the middle of
nowhere ever was.
E McNamara Mar 2018
The ocean spray of salt
The everlasting sounds of waves
The sand, a locked vault
The tide, an unforgiving grave

The sun rises at the edge
The memories so celestial
I take my loyal pledge
My heart a sailing vessel

Sea shells, colorful in sound
Sea life, beautiful in sight
A dream I’ve finally found
The sunset, a hypnotizing light

The airborne seagulls calling me to sink
The surf alluring a magical peace
My endeavors start to shrink
The stars turn to be my timepiece
Jack Bennett Feb 2018
Come to the sea
Hold my hand a while
Let the waves melt our feet
Into the sand
The seagulls land
On our shoulders
Calling out to the wind
The salt rust our bodies

How many years will it take
For our light
To burn out
For all sailors to see?
Donna Feb 2018
Seagulls in grey sky
Terrocota house roofs shine
just like the warm sun
:)
Jamil Massa Aug 2017
My head is a bay. The memory of you like the waves that swarm when the wind switches and the whistle of the ship is sounded. The longitude lines fall on a map, the navigation is helpless when I'm bowed in the presence of your eyes. That eyes which was made from the rainy season.

Your ships contain anxiety, vulnerable content, whereas love is a minor deviation from a cruise line. I am the dock for you. Anchored and wake the seagulls. For a long time no one leaned, or just reminded that the sea is not always blue.

Anchored and wake me up. Because your whisper is more patient than the air that hit the masts. Your presence is the reason why light is never lost at the top of the lighthouse.

Anchored and wake me up. Because the best morning is when my longing is covered with your eyelashes, my sleep is overgrown with black dots that hold your lip line, my vanish is ****** in a trough hidden behind your soul.

Wake me, with the most desolate shaking you have.
(The original version - Indonesian)

Amy, 2

Kepalaku adalah teluk, ingatan tentangmu bak ombak yang meriap saat angin beralih dan peluit kapal dibunyikan. Garis-garis bujur gugur pada selembar peta, navigasi tak berdaya tatkala aku tertunduk di hadapan matamu yang terbuat dari musim hujan.

Kapal-kapalmu berisi kecemasan, muatan yang rentan, padahal cinta adalah penyimpangan kecil dari sebuah jalur pelayaran. Aku adalah dermaga untukmu. Menepilah dan bangunkan burung-burung camar itu. Sudah lama tak ada yang bersandar, atau sekadar mengingatkan kalau laut tak selamanya biru.

Menepilah dan bangunkan aku. Sebab bisikanmu lebih sabar dari udara yang membentur tiang-tiang layar. Kehadiranmu adalah alasan mengapa cahaya tak pernah hilang di puncak mercusuar.

Menepilah dan bangunkan aku. Sebab pagi terbaik adalah ketika rinduku dijatuhi bulu matamu, tidurku ditumbuhi titik hitam yang menahan garis bibirmu, lenyapku adalah tersesap dalam palung yang sembunyi di balik jiwamu.

Bangunkan aku, dengan gemetar paling sunyi yang kau punya.
The Ripper Jul 2017
I had lung cancer,
now I'm minus that airbag-

Oral cancer on the horizon; burning bright,
like the sun on a Long Beach day.

I'm still vvaiting on the Seagulls;
I have this bread to toss.

This relationship vvith Death breeds: **** Fear
a nevv beginning; I'm ready.
Stanley Wilkin Dec 2016
1

He leant down
Quietly carving his name into the sand;
The pursuing waves,
Repeatedly rippling forward, with
The force of a motorized modern army
Gunning down civilians,
Dragged it clean.  

Flies loquaciously buzzed around his head,
As, crushing down seaweed,
He carved his name again.

2.

The roots dug deep, pushing against
The soil. The particles spread apart
With sexless ardour. The man,
Of a tolerant disposition, wrenched
The roots free with drenched hands.
Nothing lasted forever.

3.

The yellow and green of the sunrise
Turned swiftly into unpretentious browns
The light changing shape as the
Morning matured and the sun
Rose further in the sky. Pumped up
Clouds rolled sinuously along, combining and separating
Like fantastic amoeba.


4.

And so it continued
Under the burning sun; more spiteful from year to year.
The man said nothing
As he climbed into the salt water,
Gulls circumnavigating above his head,
With nothing to say or remember
Except the lines in the sand.
Next page