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Brandon Conway Aug 2018
Pearl white floral treat
entwined in the vines of hair
sundress draped a frame petite  
skin so smooth and fair

Calm oceans happily gaze
glass of wine we share
tropical blue I'll sail for days
lost in the waves serene care

Lift the glass to those lush lips
we'll share some little laughs
for the first time this seedy ship
doesn't mind posing photographs

Beacon of moonlight
how you so guide
a lost star back to night
where it will find its stride

My enchanting little carnation
oh how you so complete
this lost dull constellation
giving meaning to its heartbeat
A Simillacrum Aug 2018
Idealism boards its boat
and sails out to the ocean
and its middle reach.
Out as far as it will dare
it takes its detached opportunity
to yell its prayers
back at the beach.

"Wouldn't it be better,
if things were just [x] way?"

"The problem is that we're [here]
when we should be [there]."

Both bare and shoed feet
fist up the sand
and shout
shout, shout back --
They shout back,

"In the mid, your world is gold.
Here on the land, everyone's stomping toes.
On purpose. On accident. It happens.
**** happens. As far as living goes,
reality just is. So, sink with your conviction.
We challenge form, train adaptability.
Super humans laughing up from the tar.
We've come so far. We've come so very far.

It's still nothing."
neth jones Aug 2018
I Sleep ;
I Slip
In Doze, I Seep out into the Scenes ;

In Potions Deep
In Notions Cold and Preasuring
I Fit and Knit my Crown
I Coral
I Knot and Concrete a Frown
But though I Invite my Efforts
My Thoughting is Leaks and Tearing *

Over Whale but Underwater
I Recover Nothing Reassuring
Slowing to a Pale
In Ocean Cold
My Feedings are Slurring to a Drown
My Motions ; Enwombed and Collected
An Unfoetal, my Body Undertakes a Vulnerable Mould

Above
The Surface
The Ship Blinks, on Fire
And Gifts from the Broken Hold Sink to me
It's all a Wink Directed at me
A Humour

But I am become Prepared Still
For the Next Life
I Discard, Decending Still
A Treat Sunk Below
A Monsterous Breakfast

                                                 *note­ : as in, secreting saline, watery fluid
Maya Aug 2018
i see the ships pass by
but only when the waves
don't cover my eyes.
i remember nothing
and my only friends
are clouds and stars.

the name of the boat i was on
is always on the tip
of my tongue
but it slips away
with the tides
as do i.

fish have started to nibble on me.
it's a strange sensation,
not unpleasant.
i know what that means, though.
i know i am dead.

i'm not scared
just relaxed
floating on the water
smelling the salt
feeling the breeze

i am lonely though
and a little cold
i must have had a family.
what happened
to all the other lifeboats?

aha! i remember the name of my boat.
i think it was called the Titan...
no, i'm pretty sure it was
the Titanic.
Daniel Simpson Aug 2018
I stand on an abandoned dock
There's nothing in the desolate water
Just me facing the wind, no one to talk
Blowing onto my face, salty tidewater

Eyes closed with clouds overhead
The wind blows, bringing in different things
grief, pain, loss, lies, all unsaid
But the wind runs its own course, caring for nothing

Yielding for none
So I stand there, fists clenched
Faced stoically towards the wind, I could run
I remember the people behind me, each entrenched

Those who rely on me to block the salty sea
Sometime they don't feel the breeze
At times they forget the wind even blows, if only they could see
I never could through, as my very soul it tries to seize

This is my duty, like a giant totem pole
Watching over my people, they are my pearl
Keeping my hands clenched, I think of my role
They are ignorant to the real world

But that keeps me locked to the world
Against each gust of wind
Then I remember the one before me and all his worth
The one I looked up to, the one I wish I could send

Always there looking off at the horizon
Waiting for something
But always blocking the wind and what lies within
At the time I knew nothing of these things

Then like the wind, he moved on
Leaving that patch of worn wood where he stood abandoned
But just because he left didn't mean the wind moved on
The wind destroyed the home my family had made so grand

I was left with a choice:
Let the winds destroy my home
Or listen to my inner voice
So I marched down to that dock all alone

The winds in my face
Threatening to knock me over every step I take
Hands against the wind I pressed against its chill embrace
Until I found the end of my fate

I placed my feet in the ground
Locked into place
So now I stand here not making a sound
But now there's something in the water

Ships coming into harbor
As they lower their anchor
They come out single file
The first walks out

"We've all braved the storm too"
Then she grabs hold of my hand
As if following her orders, the others do the same
One by one

Ship by ship
The line following the shore from my crowded dock begins to unify
And with each one of their cries
The wind slowly begins to die
The first poem I ever wrote. I wrote it this year in my creative writing class.
He slipped too many times for it to be accidental,
Gurgling underwater; and sinking from the vessel.
He too, had supplied the deaths aboard the deck,
Where drowning and breath paddled; all atop his neck.
Do you know his struggle, until you've met the sea?
Where fish swim past on their way, and you clamber just to breathe.
Sputtering on bubbles, his exhaling's a crusade,
But please don't feel bad for him, that's just an average day-
All feedback is welcome and appreciate!!:)
Maxim Keyfman Aug 2018
I would like to go with you
on a ship in waves in the sea
I would like to be with you only
and poems to write and poetry to read
and poems to sing

I would like to be with you
forever and for all to be forgotten
so that no one will ever remember us
as when that morning we met
as when we were greeted by the moon

14.08.18
Nomkhumbulwa Aug 2018
This is the question they ask me,
And one which I struggle to answer;
For it is not something I gave much thought,
And I really dont know how to answer.

It plagues me every day,
For you are still - ALL of you..."gone";
Why did I ever go back?
Had I been away for too long?

Perhaps I was being selfish,
Wanting to go back and see my Nan,
Wanting to go back to my roots,
To be on the ship while I still can.

To go back to where I felt I belonged,
I had waited ten years to go back;
And I still dont regret my return,
I dont see it as a reason for "attack".

I thought I had a family,
But it is quite clear that I do not;
For I struggle to find any answers
For this place that time forgot.

So it was a big mistake
To once again return,
To feel the soil under my feet,
For which I had so long yearned.

To climb High Knoll,
Looking out to sea;
Beyond the rugged terrain
lies nothing but sea, sea and more sea.

To climb the peaks,
Through the flax and the ferns;
Everything so green,
Being circled by the terns.

The wild windy bends,
On the road to Blue Hill;
The cloud almost consuming me -
and then everything so still.

The woods of Plantation,
And Rosemary Plain;
The sweet smell of fresh pine
Brings me back again and again.

The narrow streets of Jamestown,
Where cars and people compete;
Can take such a long time to walk,
Talking for hours with everyone you meet.

Swimming in the sea at Rupert's
Became my great escape;
With lovely friends we'd cook and swim
From early until late.

Being churned by the rough South Atlantic
Is like being in a washing machine;
When the huge waves come crashing upon you,
All you can do is hold your breath and hope...its better not to scream!

The water is warm but not gentle,
The swell can sweep you away;
As the waves pound rocks at your body,
You might be tempted to pray.

We swam and ate plo,
We swam and ate cake;
Fish freshly caught
Then from fire and onto plate.

Nana's house has not changed much,
The old geysir still in place;
The bead curtains, the photos,
of just about every single face.

Cockroaches escape hastily,
And the mozzies might come in,
Yet the peace and tranquility of this place
...with its "acoustics" of tin...

For the tin roof has a lot to offer
Especially for a musician;
The flute can be heard from afar,
Penetrating the silence within.

The rain drops make music too,
As they fall upon this roof of tin;
Every other sound may well be drowned out
And the lights sometimes go dim.

But to look from Nana's house,
To the peaks, the Gumwoods, the Fort;
Across to Francis Plain, the School,
And the sea in the distance of course.

Flagstaff sits prominently,
The sun setting on its flanks;
All can be seen from this house,
Built on these precarious banks.

I said goodbye to my nana
I did not know she was going to die;
She was staying in the nursing home,
I visited each time I passed by.

The house then felt more empty,
Even though she had to move out;
Suddenly it became so empty -
Everyone now has moved out.

It was also a place of torture,
And I am not proud at all of my mark;
I left this house with a darkness,
From which it will never depart.

I left the Island with darkness,
As it came time for me to depart;
The people, community shattered,
I still love it with all my heart.

I then felt I could help others,
After learning from those I could confide;
Since my once close knit family
Had pushed me to the side.

We thought we could bring justice,
For many victims of this fate;
But then as we drew so close..
...all of a sudden - it was too late.

Now we are cursed even more,
For our actions have caused such shame;
Yet he was the one who abused us -
He was the one to blame.

So I say goodbye as thats all I can do,
Tears flowing as I write this;
For I know with most certainty...
that I shall never return...and how I miss...

I miss you St Helena,
I tried to help you too;
But as closed minded as you are,
I am just more sad - there is nothing I can do.

Without the support of anyone,
Due to "fear of speaking out",
My own voice falls on deaf ears,
Even when I shout.

Now I must live with this damage,
And shame, and blame, and guilt;
Sometimes I still know not what is true,
Because as women - of course, its "our fault".

You are drifting away St Helena,
Our people - they have but gone;
I miss you, our jewel of the ocean,
Thinking back to the days when I was "still one".

I was still one of you till  last year,
How so much can change in that time;
But now our bond is forever broken,
Its broken...because of this crime.  

....and yes....it was a crime.
A new poem...not really thought out.  Just thoughts that came out (!).
Joanna Charis Aug 2018
I’m like a sailing ship, sinking deep, in the depths of your melancholic seas.

The sirens sing to your heart bleeding; couldn’t tear my eyes away when you are hurting.

Waiting for you to smile again,
like the rising of the sun;
it was then that I knew I have left my heart to sail, one more time.
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