It’s morning! Finally morning on the even ebb of eve.
The tides! The marina’s tides are thick like wicker’s weave.
What sand has shifted? What news from Diego’s dawn?
From covers; the bark of seals sing like a bay yacht’s yawn.
Dinghy docks and pristine clamor; now I hear the bells!
No, not the toll it takes, but just the charm it spells.
I orient, I wake. I’m quick to smile; the sun follows suit.
Searching south; the daily buzz on right, and left: a bay that’s mute.
But the sound’s not snuffed, you see, motors have plenty to spare.
Because whether or not you knew or noticed, the navy never seems to care.
Compelled and called from my fruitful rest; muesli munched with jams.
These charts and graphs I take with me while I brew my grind of grams.
A cozy meditation on my morning routine. A little slice of life when the sun comes up in my neck of the woods. I feel warm and safe when I hear those seals. (Sometimes even in the middle of the night!)
Opening my eyes for the very first time
by my mothers side without a single crime
The sun is shining
I am playing
We are sliding
My mum is smiling
I'm anticipating to explore the lands
Without having to hold her hands
Soon I’ll no longer be a pup
Soon I’ll be all grown up
Suddenly I can hear sounds of laughter
The noises started to scatter
Bang bang bang
They’re attacking her
My own mother
She protected me
Pushing me to the sea
To set me free
Telling me to spree
With no time to disagree
The monsters didn’t want my mum
They wanted me, to slit my throat
But this time they’ll return to their boats
Without my warm white coat
Five, ten, fifteen minutes go by
I’m getting low on air supply
I’m afraid to see what above
I wish everything could just be undone
Gasping for one more breath
Circled by all their deaths
Feeling as though I’m about to drown
Whiles fleeing this crazy battle ground
My arms are getting heavy
I don’t think I’m quite ready
My legs are starting to burn
I don’t know where to turn
Swimming as fast as I can without thinking
I find myself trapped in this thick green netting
I don’t want to moan
As I am not alone
I wish this wasn’t real
I think they want me for their meal
Unlike the others I mange to set my self free
With this thick green netting all around me
It’s weighing me down
I don’t want to drown
Five days go by everyday is a struggle
Swimming around stuck in this rubble
You are destroying my home
With no safe place to rome
Up to 200 species extinct everyday
There’s no time to delay
5 of my kind are endangered
It’s time to make changes!
By Coco 07
I am an Au Pair inspired by an 11 year old.
We wrote this poem together to create more awareness on the cruelty we are causing.
Together we can make a difference!
send shoppers shrilling.
stitch supplementary shipments,
Sales staff splendidly stock shelf.
Such salvation, seals seeks.
there's a lone seal swimming by the sea
hunting for silvers with heartless glee
a fish shy there, another one wiggling there
who really cares
for his table always set for one
darkness his day in the sun
still he takes to the rolling tides
lone, but ******* in his pride
one day his eyes pique a double look
as a mermaid pops out of his storybook
stunning as a little light filters in
as she swooshes by, waving her fins
she's a sparkled beauty from head to toe
her consonance and shine, lighting his mojo
growing hunger and his drive keep following her
on the ocean floor she shimmers
between the rocks she dances
one step she be in harmony to his glances
he drives a barked out calling
so raw and appalling
shivers crawling down her back
as he arf, arf's another attack
alarmed with his lack of renaissance
like she should be, she didn't offer a response
as she keeps shimmering past the rocks
racing, racing away from any further talk
broken, he retreats to his mind
the missing piece he'll never find
there's a lone mermaid swimming by the sea
and a lone seal barking of what could be
This could be the story of my life. Some say my delivery is bad. My tone is worse. Ha. I'm just a seal that loves bobbing a ball on his nose.
The selkie sits on solemn sands,
Her hair a curtain wet.
She sings her songs of splendid seas -
A shining silhouette.
Her lily coat lies loosely strung,
Her shoulders slim and white,
She sighs with sounds of salty spray;
A voice of naught and night.
A play on Irish folklore and alliterations
gross and flabby
ignorant of protocol
wearing pink petticoats.
Fluted columns fade
into the secrecy
of a passing thought.
— The End —