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Blondie finds a shell

peeps out an eldritch pearl

begins a new vision
Blondie Finds A Shell (Haiku)
ryn Jul 2016
We were building a boat.
A sea-worthy vessel made for two.
A cosy little nest,
a shell of the promise for me and you.

We made it sturdy...
From keel to hull.
We sang to each other
to oust the lull.

We spoke of the adventures,
together we'd avidly chase.
We braced for the storms,
we'd most likely face.

As the last drop of sweat...
Fell freely to our feet,
the boat was done.
What were once planks, was then complete.

I climbed aboard
and hoisted up the sail.
You lingered for a bit...
Seemingly cautious that the boat might fail.

The craft quickly drifted out to sea...
When the wind, the sail did willingly welcome.
I cried out to you so you could hop on...
So with me you could come.

But you simply stood there...
With a gaze incredibly deadpan.
As the currents pulled me further,
I only then realised...
That I was never your plan.
Pauline Morris Jul 2016
In the coffin bear
You will find it there
If you want to know
All the secrets it will hold
All the sorrow and the strife
Will all end in the passing of life
Take a look at the empty shell
It'sĀ been released from it's cell
Ovi-Odiete Jul 2016
Out of the darkest shell I emerge,
Bringing Out a path once trailed
I Arrive; With a story to tell
From a past once bitter
To a Path Now Fitter

Out of the grave of dreams, I Arrive
Standing on the Rays of boom
From the pains of Mirage,
To the Shadows longed for
I will take my Chances

Out of the loneliest Sea,
I conquered
Beneath the Deepest Clouds
I Fly, I sojourn without feathers
And tell my tales at Heavens Gate
We are often manacled in chains and bottled up like a genie in the bottle and most times the ability to come out of it lies within our reach, but we choose to stay hidden and locked up and so we do not see the light waiting for us to soar, so it could shine upon us.

Ovi Odiete©
Racquel Tio Jul 2016
bags around my eyes
and hate towards my thighs
trying to bleed out everything I'm feeling
it's too late now for healing
It lies
in limbo
a beautiful
wreckage
glistening chrome
the wind
from the sea
stings salty
tears for the
deaths of
youths and
one man
whose name
is not
spoken but
whispered along
the cobbles
of the shore
nature at
its most
unnatural
tells all
and nothing
a secret
like that
of Midas
but the touch
is silver
not gold
tainted heavily
with guilt
the tale
sung by
the breeze
but not
the villagers
their tell-tale
hearts thumping
as they
pass by
for they hear
those voices
that will not
be drowned
A poem I wrote when I was about 16 after visiting Maggi Hambling's Shell sculpture near Aldeburgh. I had managed to arrange it to resemble a shell on the page I wrote it on but can't quite replicate that here.
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