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Lin Jan 8
and we are all
surfing along
on this thing
called life

until we get throw
Reaper Sep 2018
A salty breeze kisses my sun-soaked shoulders
Bringing relief to my cherried skin
As I bob up and down in a swell of nature’s ferocity
A growing wall takes shape and draws ever closer
The frequency of my heart now starts to resemble the shimmering
Of the very surface of which I cling to life on

As a force unlike any other now takes control
I can but only steer and guide myself through
Until I ****** myself up in an attempt to challenge
This uncontrollable energy of mother nature

I lean forward and turn to face this emerald giant
Sparkling with the allure of a thousand precious gems
Ready to at any moment heave me into her churning *****

I am at peace and serenity takes ahold of me

Seanathon Jun 2018
When the waves come crashing over you...and the saltwater fills your mouth.

When you've turned like a towel in the washer of life...and your thought is nowhere to be found.

When it seems almost hopeless to surface again. As your fall was predestined from birth.

In these moments find self in the memory of each wave knows its place on the earth.
When you fall, get up. Its what we humans do.
George Krokos Mar 2018
Out of the body cage and into space
the soul finds itself in another place.
As in a dream it moves so far around
with the feet hardly touching ground.
It meets all sorts of people out there
and towards many of them feels bare.
There are others that it seems to hold
in a fond memory from times of old.
It can barely recognise where it goes
but places look so familiar it knows.

And as often as when it gets itself lost
or in a spot of bother that it will cost
comes quickly home to its body cage;
'out of harm's way' is that old adage.
To wake up and sense that it is back
in that old comfortable body shack.
At times trembling with cold 'n fear
knowing it has been away from here.

The body does become a little cold
when the soul escapes from its fold
and so if it stays away for too long
it may be ready to sing a new song;
based in part on all those impressions
carried over from its previous sessions.

Where it ends up is determined by fate
to balance out right 'n wrongs to date.
But if it has achieved full awareness
of its True nature by Grace in fairness
it makes its way back to that Abode
of Eternal Existence and Divine Node.
Written Feb. 2018. Does this sound familiar to anyone. I tried to capture the essence of what we all experience at various times when we dream and a bit of spiritual philosophy to go with it.
Fred Sep 2017
Like a **** on a rock
I wax my soul the keep it off.
A wave lifts me to the sky
where the briny wind
dissolves my soluble mould
and my mind glistens
on the sunlit surface of the sea.
Deb Jones Sep 2017
I stood on the pier and watched the ocean
The waves crashing unto the shore

The kids and dogs playing in the surf
The distant sounds of laughter
carried on the wind...

And the surfers almost below me

The way they tracked the waves
While straddling their boards

Watching the waves build

Pushing the tip of their board down
To dive under them like seals

Waiting for the one they will ride to shore

So isolated from each other

So solitary in their sport

I wondered, do they think about anything important?
Ponder anything heavy?

Or do they just wait for the next wave?

And the only decision they have to make

Is whether to dive under it
Or let the tip of the board rise

Above the crest of the wave
And ride it

When your thoughts are in another place or time,
Your actions lose much of their effectiveness.

I think surfers must be in the moment
Only thinking about the next wave

And the possibility that it
Will be the one worth riding

And maybe a brief moment of regret
That the one they just let pass

May have been an opportunity

But just a brief and fleeting thought....

Because the next wave is already approaching
Watching the surfers one day.
tamia Nov 2016
in baler where the sun shines and the waves visit
is where freedom bathes under the blue skies
in the seaside realm of surfing

simple hotels line the shore
where you can run to the beach fronts
after settling in little white rooms,
and in the blue water
wait tanned, youthful surfing instructors--
local boys of the province who've grown up
with the salt water as their playground.

get on your surfboard and
join the waters,
"mag-timing ka sa alon,"—
"wait for the waves", the instructors say
and lie down on your stomach on the surfboard,
and when you do get the waves you ride them fearlessly,
you are lifted, invincible,
by the hands of the philippine sea.

and if you don't surf,
the smooth sands are there,
calling you to lie around
under the seaside sun.

and when night falls
and the waves are reckless,
you can sit on the sand
with a bonfire and some drinks—
watch the stars
with the sound of the tides as your music
and do not fear;
for in the morning
the waves will come rushing
back to the shores of Balers
to give anyone freedom
as they always do.
Baler, Aurora—a beautiful province in the Philippines known for its beautiful oceans, a place where surfers and everyone else come to ride its waves.
Erin Suurkoivu Oct 2016
comely, maybe
but not beautiful
my features are as round as vowels
and I carry the moon in my hips
I am an unpolished beauty
smooth pebbles resting at the bottom
of a cold clear stream
with an empty purse
my only currency

in this world
I am a shrinking violet
occasionally a rose
caught in your button-loop
long-stemmed red roses
stalk runways
hollywood bombshells
are bubbly as champagne
and full of flesh and light

but *** sans love
is still an empty bathtub
whatever happened to pin-up girls
long cigarette holders
and muted photographs?
I am distorted
in the fish-eye view
of the modern lens

in my fantasies
I am no longer sand and loam
I glow like a tall slim candle
though I am often numb and dumb
and my girls are as absent
as long lost unicorns
I am the bohemian princess

I travel through foreign lands
clothed in exotic costume
a jewelled headdress, and
indian pyjamas coloured sapphire,
turquoise and cayenne-red
my feet are near bare
and my hippie hair
is a mass of blonde curls

I take a sojourn in
southern california
warm desert air
soft against my skin
I surf in the salty sea
held buoyant by the waves
a sunset stains the sky tangerine
the palm trees
black against the orange light
click teasingly in the breeze
"In My Fantasies" can be found in my book "The Honey in the Lion", available at and Amazon.
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