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Athu Feb 2019
In the tumltous waters, a ship set sail
beaten by the madness of waves

In the distance, landfall drew close, an island of serenity shone in the stormy night

A mirage it maybe, for a ship beaten by the madness of waves never sailed again
LWZ Jan 2019
Her spirit shines of skittles
The flavors you taste on a tropical island
Her soul is made of the first blanket of snow
Cold, but gleams so delightfully in the sunlight

When I look at her this is what I see
Something that I could never be
She’s a magnet to the people around her
Fixed like a child to their mother

A fire so easily contained
She cannot be tamed
Nor does she belong in a cage
The purest warmth you cannot disobey

I promise not to control it
I promise I won’t try to tame it
The fire inside of me is abstract to yours
It’s already ignited a forest to flames

A monster that I created
A fog rampant all around me
Rehabilitate my spirit
Teach me how to add color to my bleak existence
Jay Lewis Jan 2019
Repressing your feelings,

   Like I'm repressing mine.
  
      Pretending we're just friends,

         We dare not risk nor cross that line.
A Simillacrum Jan 2019
How clean is clean
when the cleaning began
from the floor of a sunken ship?
Barnacles grace the walls in the place
of family, or a familiar face.

When filth is a given, and given
in projection to the overtly empathetic
as a matter of course, why implore?

Because you don't implore,
you explore as an entity
reaching for a meaning.

The question becomes,
do you fight, or do you invite
the coming cessation?

Even with a gun, and a view to ****,
the power the bullet affords
would surely fail to thrill you.
The best charlatans paint your hands red,
as you're sleeping in bed, preemptively.

Let the liars lie, let the builders connive.
Uninterrupted access to their own confines.
To Narcissus, the cool nod is colder than the knife.

Let the liars lie, let the builders connive.
When the company you keep requires the sacrifice
of your authenticity and your reality, just leave.

It'll never get good. It'll never get great.
It'll never be worth the investment.
Jean Jan 2019
I open my mouth
wrestling the words off my tongue
like they are passengers
that refuse to walk their plank.
and when I finally think I’ve pushed
them
off
into the storming sea should they go—
dissolved by the darkness of the waves
and the crescendo of the foam.
but nothing dares stumble out in the land between my lips,
instead the passengers find themselves
to the vacuum of hopelessness
that awaits it.
Composed 1.9.19
Rowan S Jan 2019
I've always thought
        myself a ship
With all others
        caught in my wake
My life, a black hole
        a gaping vortex
There is no hope of escape
        
And I the captain
        drunk at the wheel
There might as well
        be icebergs
I hope to god
        this journey ends
I'm tired of the wreckage
Hannah Wallace Dec 2018
(noun)
--A dock in the sea at which boats may anchor

That's the definition Google gave
But if you ask me,
Google doesn't know ****

Because no matter how many pages
I've searched
Or links that I've clicked
Google can never tell me how many times
you've made me laugh
more genuinely
than I thought myself capable

No algorithm can pinpoint
how many hours we spent on that
front porch swing
covered by empty Barefoot bottles
letting our heels sink in awe
of the world we had in front of us

Trust me that no "I'm Feeling Lucky" button
could ever lead me up the steps of
that little apartment
where i learned that your
dollar store pasta,
simple as it may,
will always be my favorite

And may it
not by God or some invisible hand
be the reason i believe in fate

You.

Always my North Star,
together you and I make
a really ****** compass.
But then again we've never held
trust to anything but our guts
to tell us we are
heading in the right directions.

And so many directions we have taken,
to think all the conversations
we've held about
the places we'd end up
were just the billboards
we didn't know we were passing

Okay--maybe Google's definition wasn't so far off then.
You my friend are more than just a season
You are the life, and the warmth, and the beauty
of our favorite June night
even in the dead of winter
The fog on the windows of your house
are reminders of every breath that has escaped you, every
breath you'll never be able to catch
every breath you have stolen

Enough to heat a home.

So i know that no matter how rough the waters
or smooth my ocean's floor,
I, my lonely ship,
know I can always have a place to anchor

Marina.
Colm Dec 2018
Hello poems
I'm your penman
And your ship which has sailed over a thousand times

Hello times
Where are you going?
Lord knows in nowhere you will find

Hello no one
Hello some
Hello life and underwhelmingness of love

Hello certainty
Hello un
And hello to you my most newly begun
underwhelmingness - Not a real word lol
Pétra Hexter Nov 2018
I am sailing upon the ocean
In a rickety vessel perforated and laden with rotten boards
The black water surrounding me is rough with roiling violence
The island that was once in the distance, where I would weather the storm, is now gone
I am rocked on every side as restless giants churn the waters to foam
A profound sense of dread permeates every fibre of my body; if I lose my grip on the rigging I'll surely plunge overboard
Dragged down to the cold, crushing depths by the hungry beasts lurking below
The pale sun only breaks through the clouds overhead to mock me
A momentary respite before the hurricane resumes, bent on consuming me
My navigational charts are all wrong, the stars have switched their positions in the sky
My anchor can find no purchase
The dark sea stretches to the horizon in every direction
I know not where salvation lies
The surface ripples with movement
They are waiting
                              waiting
                   ­                         waiting
Though I must reach into the salty water to distill it, I dare not dip a single finger
For the coiling leviathans beneath will rise to meet me with great gnashing teeth and ugliness to swallow me whole
It will be dark
It will be silent
And I will be alone
So I forego the water entirely
Learning instead to live with parched lips and a leathery tongue
And the gnawing emptiness within
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