Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Angharad Oct 2024
I hope the grey of the season calls a blanket of comfort to fall around you,
as the mute of the sun encourages our shadows to surrender.
Kamini Oct 2024
Stumbling,
falling into being
bare feet
find wet stone
tender hands
hold my
trembling heart
as tears
wipe away fear
to be reborn
into a river
of aliveness

And sweet
surrender
rising to fill
the empty space
puts a smile
on griefs’
gentle face
I will 
Surrender all 
Take up the Rugged Cross. 
And follow you, my God, oh Lord. 
I shall 
Leave selfishness and self-centred
Thoughts behind everything 
And follow you. 
Only
Matthew 16:24
Sink me gently down into the quiet depth,
where time and sound hold silent,
subdued beneath the surface.

I escape to the air one bubble at a time.

I push myself out, one bubble at a time..

I force myself out, one bubble at a time…

A small piece of freedom
to give this up,
and breathe in the sweet wet air.
Heavy and thick in my lungs,
it slows my heart
with tired blood,
till last life lays me down
to sleep.

Glassy eyed and smiling from my murky bed,
I am home.
And what a beautifully horrible way to go.
Jamesb Sep 2024
We have spoken of tacking
Our ships away,
Changing our divergence
From one mile
For every sixty sailed,
To one mile every mile
As we part at ninety degrees,

Having sailed close aboard
A few years with
Turbulent waters between
Our hulls
Offset by occassional beautiful
Moments of sunrise
And reddened dusk,

The sun is now more often
Obscured by storm clouds,
Black and angry,
Unfeeling and irrational,
Lightning-full and dangerous,
With fewer sunny moments
Or even any forecast

The wind is picking up,
And the waves have
White caps on their heads,
Spray bursts more often
Over my bow and the rain
Is freezing now
Time not to tack so much

As wear ship,
Turn away from the wind,
Give up the beat to windward,
Accept the futility
Of a fools errand,
Slamming into a sea that
Does not forgive nor want me,

Turn instead south,
Away from the teeth of
A gale driven by spite and ADHD,
Sail south and hope to find
A sunnier clime
Before my ship

Finally

Sinks
There are times when one knows one should give in, knows that one is causing oneself pain, knows its unlikely to change, can see the smart move is to bail, yet keeps on anyway. This poem looks at the moments immediately before a dramatic change, where the hope of better things has not yet quite died
Lyla Sep 2024
𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘤𝘦𝘢𝘯 𝘪𝘴 𝘥𝘦𝘦𝘱, I say
Mysterious depths existing beyond my comprehension
𝘚𝘰 𝘣𝘦𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘪𝘧𝘶𝘭, I say
Words lost in the roar of hypnotic blue, green, grey
𝘐𝘵'𝘴 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨, I say
Rendered defenseless by its magnitude

Adrift, I surrender to the pull of the current
Whether I am made immortal within the waves
Or am cast broken upon the shore
The ecstasy of my soul is a 𝘧𝘢𝘪𝘵 𝘢𝘤𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘱𝘭𝘪
I drown in his eyes, all words are lost.
Next page