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Isabella May 15
I heard your name in the whispers of the waves
I heard you call in the whistles of the wind
So I ran through the water into your arms
I threw myself into your cold embrace
I watched your face as you kissed my lips
And pulled me into the water’s bed
My home is now silent, and I have taken to those haunting waves
To set forth upon new land, and to find you, the woman of maebh.*

We come from different worlds, locked together in constant motion,
But I'm determined to embrace you, even from across the western ocean.

I'll sail across the world for you, even if the journey sends me to Hell.
It merely took one glance and I was immediately under your spell.

Like a siren's call, you pulled me in from a world away.
To arrive at you safely, I can only hope and pray.

And someday soon, when this coffin ship meets the shore
Hand in hand, together, in this new life, we will explore.

Day after day of this journey, we long for our first embrace,
But until then, I will be guided by your enchanting grace.
*(may-v) Gaelic word for someone who is alluring.
Step into the pools that fill my heart
But do it with trepidation
Because you’ve drowned here before
In the voids left by other men
Brought in by my siren song
But always with a rope to guide them out

Where is your way home, darling
Why do you return to me
With hope in your eyes
And no fear in your heart

I am the monster here
In my own story
Not the damsel in yours
Serendipity Apr 20
Stormy sea thunder
boasts with glorious tales
of men who've drowned,
and the sirens
who drowned them.
Floating
by Michael R. Burch

Memories flood the sand’s unfolding scroll;
they pour in with the long, cursive tides of night.

Memories of revenant blue eyes and wild lips
moist and frantic against my own.

Memories of ghostly white limbs ...
of soft sighs
heard once again in the surf’s strangled moans.

We meet in the scarred, fissured caves of old dreams,
green waves of algae billowing about you,
becoming your hair.

Suspended there,
where pale sunset discolors the sea,
I see all that you are
and all that you have become to me.

Your love is a sea,
and I am its trawler—
harbored in dreams,
I ride out night’s storms;
unanchored, I drift through the hours before morning,
dreaming the solace of your warm *******,
pondering your riddles, savoring the feel
of the explosions of your hot, saline breath.

And I rise sometimes
from the tropical darkness
to gaze once again out over the sea . . .
You watch in the moonlight
that brushes the water;

bright waves throw back your reflection at me.

This is a poem I wrote as a teenager. It has been published by Penny Dreadful, Romantics Quarterly, Boston Poetry Magazine, The Chained Muse and Poetry Life & Times. Keywords/Tags: love, romantic, romanticism, mermaid, siren, Lorelei, sea, night, dreams, eyes, lips, limbs, *******, breath, sunset, surf, waves, caves, moon, moonlight, seaweed, hair, storms
You still miss her so much.
I feel it when I touch the keys of your laptop.
Wet from your teardrop.
Last night there was a birthday party.
For a boy that was a zombie.
He didn't exist, only his mother.
In a ghost home like no other.
Dark and brown.
In a ghost town.
I watched them from very far away.
I watched a mother and child that used to play.
You'll find ways.
You'll find ways and people and days.
It will be so hard, impossible and too much.
Like trying to sleep when there's nothing that feels right for your body to touch.
And it all falls apart again.
And you have to start again and again.
Always with too many things happening.
And no certainty and the world spinning.
On and and on.
How to go on? How to hold on?
Falling backwards again into the storm.
Uncomfortable and cold in every form.
The calm before and after the hit.
And the loving inside surrounding it...
You just hold me when everything falls.
When the siren calls...
19-01-20
Circe
by Michael R. Burch

She spoke
and her words
were like a ringing echo dying
or like smoke
rising and drifting
while the earth below is spinning.
She awoke
with a cry
from a dream that had no ending,
without hope
or strength to rise,
into hopelessness descending.
And an ache
in her heart
toward that dream, retreating,
left a wake
of small waves
in circles never completing.

Originally published by Romantics Quarterly

Keywords/Tags: Circe, enigma, enigmatic, enchantress, siren, enchanted, witch, goddess, magic, Ulysses, pigs, sty
Mikey Kania Feb 13
don't drop crumbs on the floor
don't produce dirt on the sofa

don't be weak but
entertaining
don't tell me your story
cause i hate it

don't take control in bed
don't try to find the speed
don't talk about your needs

don't question my dont's
don't think that you won't
Today is a good day.
Holly Jan 14
You do not want to love me.
I am a cold storm that you watch
from the windows of a home
and be glad you are inside.
I cannot keep you warm
on days where
the rain drowns
every good feeling
in our bodies.
I know
it is tempting
to linger,
all good things come
to drown themselves in me
eventually.
But I am a mess
of salt and bitterness
and the taste of sand
in your mouth.
And
If you stay,
I will be the one to
drag you out
into the sea
and leave you to sink.
M Grant Teague Dec 2019
She is sultry ash
In a smoky darkness.
Her voice pulls at my spirit,
Deep and seductively rattles
The chains around my wrists.
The red silk sheets flutter
In eerie circles of downlight.

Why does she hide in the shadows?

“Come to me.”
Slips that warm shiver
Up my pin pricked spine.
My breath escapes
Broken from below
Hailing the gods
Without a sound.

Darkness drips over this dream
Song is stripped from the air.
I hear nothing,
See silence,
Feel cold sweat run the length.
At a snap,
My throat is freed.
I sob.
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