Lana 2h
In a steady pace,
Your silhouette draws closer,
I can't help but wonder,
How can one figure hold so much grace?
Then it presses against the vapid darkness,
Intertwined and set aglow,
Always buried within the whimsical afterglow.

Living everyday,
Like it's my last today.
Nothing else I'd rather feel,
The only thing I want to breed;
The kinetics of the rush,
The lyrical harmony of our love thrush.

I reside in paradise,
Shot down by the bullets of your glistening opals,
You call your eyes.

Compelled to submerge in this guise,
One day we shall witness our prize,
The one event more beautiful than our sunrise.
Eternal circle, fatal rhyme
Golden new and golden old
With blue skies in-between
Or storms

Hearts a-flower
flaming
flung
Search for love's long twining song
Hoping past the sight-edge
For a blue sky up above.

Rising into darkness
And turning night to day
Rushing sunrise rushes

Sheer delight of transformation
Flying headlong to its death

Futility
Such beauty all in vain
And yet

Sunset skies from far away
Most beautiful of all
Fading day
Yielding light
Soft within the brilliance of age.

Better far the end than not at all.
Love's lispings, too.
Humans,
we are not infinite.

We tend to forget that
we die.

Our existence is a cycle.

We are not infinite.

Yet, the things we
do.
The lives we
live.

I like to think that those things are.

Just like, the ocean
and the sky
and nature.

Like the universe.

I like to believe that,
by watching the sunrise,
or the sunset,
by camping,
or planting a tree,
I like to believe that
THAT'S how we become
infinite.

Becoming one with our surroundings.

Loving.

Appreciating and taking care.

Learning, creating.

That's the way we become immortal.

We leave a mark, a trace,
a piece of our souls.

And so we keep on living...
The sun is rising behind me
At least it might be
The rooms getting brighter
But only slightly
Sandal walls shining
No, glowing a cool pale blue
The shades block the view
Of the window Im facing
But a cold cerulean hue
Borders the neutral inch between
Engines roar on the street
And workers are born
There’s footsteps upstairs
And the blue is turning warm
The sun is rising behind me
Although, I really can’t be sure
Because the open window is behind me
And I chose to close my door
I wake up- the scent of fine powders, perspiration, and arrogance all laced around me, permeating.
Duck under the sheets, shield yourself from the sunlight. Come back up for a breath of air.
Mornings are repetition at its finest.
Grab a fruit on your way to the water; peel it with sharp fingers; rip and tear.
You open your eyes to a world in which you are born anew, puffy skinned and amazed.
All the colors are a slightly different shade, more attached. Pale opalescence shines before your eyes.
All sound is but a whisper now.
Sweet release from a long sleep. Tire me again tonight, joy will come with the dawn.
Caleb Luke Feb 13
You allowed the sea to answer,
In the eve of sunrise;
When there truly was no love.
Just 8 ball responses passed over to the blind side of a two-way mirror.
Where we both saw a fool.
Yet yours has one heart,
And mine had two.
loving something that cannot express such feelings
maria Feb 13
Jim died last night, slipped away like the slimmest embers of light that, from time to time, would reach their arms through the clouds to show themselves. I wonder where he is glowing, if he kindled his spirit to the stars, the gray moon, the forever burning sun.

I stared into his empty room last night, the air a silent breath synced with mine, and it felt so unexpected, it felt wrong and cruel and hostile. I didn’t get to say goodbye.

When I walked home the next morning, I felt like my lips had meant to mutter some form of plea into that void space that were all cradled together by a wrinkled blanket we had not yet washed.

I left the newspaper out for him.

8 a.m shrieking birds and gravel crunching underneath my worn shoes. The morning tan wasted down to the fragmented hairs of fog that settled their bodies over the breasts of earth and I kept my eyes shut to refuse to let loose something I felt I had no control over.

At 9:30, I crawled into bed, thinking of where the sun was at his placing now, thinking of the hiding stars, the seemed to be gone, moon, and I prayed that Jim had made it to the other side.
when you subject yourself to work with the near dead, you offer up a part of your heart to carry theirs.
As the sun comes up,
I realize I’ve been wasting away night after night
And I’ve done it all with a nonchalant air about me and a smirk plastered onto my damn face.
I’ve been wasting the gift that is my life.
I’ve had every opportune moment to put an end to my dilly-dalliances
And yet I have ignored each of these many signs in favor of bringing about my own downfall. Might as well bring out the corks because I’ve practically celebrated–whooped and cheered!–as I’ve run the course of life through each tattered obstacle
Bumping and falling like a drunk performance artist trying to make a buck at the county fair.
Eric Fraley Feb 5
If you were to ever be looking for me
I'll be where I feel the most free
Standing with my feet in the water

Wondering about a second life

Waiting to see
When and where the sun meets the sea
You will find me where the tides touch the sky
Where the fire red.
Meets the ocean blue.                            
Where sun rays reach out to fly
Watching such a sight helps me realize
As time goes by
Like as if it were human
The beauty of a sunset soon dies
It fades into dark
Nothing left but the stars shining bright
Light years apart
Out there...
Somewhere unknown

What would a second life be like
Is it heaven
Is it  home  
Or...
Is it trapped out there
All alone

Is there excitement
Or…
Peaceful silence

Is there such thing as time there
Or perhaps…
It is endless

Is there sanity in a second life
Or maybe…
Joyful madness

If  it ends…
Does it come again
Or might it…
Only last a couple moments

Is    t h e r e…
A better place than   h e r e...

It makes me wonder what another life is
If we get another life out there
Or is it possible…

This is our only life
So…

Is it truly  p r i c e l e s s

I do not know but I can say this

If you were to ever be looking for me
I'll be right where I feel the most free
Standing with my feet in the water

Watching the sunrise
Because it reminds me of us all
It has a rise and fall
And yet still…
Every moment of it is precious
Just like the miracle that this thing called life is
The highs and the lows

In the end…
Just like a sunrise and sunset

They both...
L e a v e   u s   e q u a l l y   a s   b r e a t h l e s s
hazy morning beams,
refractions through lapping waves
brighten the blue depths
This haiku was submitted to Pure Haiku for the month of February's Ocean theme. It did not make the cut.
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