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Ananyaa Kapoor Jun 2015
It comes in waves
mid-step
mid-sentence
a rush
it tugs at my gut
and carries me
out to sea
uproots the anchor
of my sanity
and engulfs me
in the memories
that drench every part of me
and just like the tide that washes up, occasionally
wetting the seering sands
just as quickly as it comes,

you are gone

x
Megan Hoagland Jun 2015
Something about the way your eyes sparkle
when you say you love me
tells me that we always meet
at the wrong time for one another.
That our love orbits
but can never be too close.
Always just missing each other.

At the precise moment our eyes lock
we get pulled away; the tides are just too strong.
Never can we ever be more than just friends.
A love like ours can only destroy
and we are too scared
to take a chance
that we are the best way to destroy each other,
if destroying is what we desire.
And dear, we are slowly destroying each other
Gemineyed Gypsy Jun 2015
When I was a child, Pan was my friend,
With others I refused to play,
Except for those reminding me,
Of that long, lost, youthful boy.
Playing along and following the pond-
To the stream that led out to the bay,
Just a ahead in the woods was where I called home,
A land of adventure and joy.

As time went along,
I was forced to grow strong,
Veering from my childish ways,
My life steered off course, by that Pirate, of course,
Swabbing decks, cleaning bilges,
Slaving through days.

Nine years hence,
Spending many a *****,
Its back in the woods I reside.
Be it a curse, that might sound right in verse,
My heart yearns to be back, living life by the tides.
© 2015 Ashley Jean.
All rights reserved.
Intellectual property of the author.
olena May 2015
last night;
our neighborhood was screams
of awe and fear
both were unfamiliar

silent impact
our moon was tilted on its side
it rattled and grew closer
monstrous and looming
larger
          than
                  life.

our moon
stretched our tides until they snapped
coasts held hostage and cities blank
planes dropped like birds
plucked
        away
                from
                      our blue canvas.

it was a beacon of terror
man once set foot upon
neap tides now creep tides
a mother hen
          gone
                 rogue.
If the moon was shifted toward the earth.
Sobriquet Mar 2015
It's creeping in again,
each ebb and flow

stealing pebbles from the beach,
shifting sands
filling gaps with pools of doubt

waves of sadness
surging loneliness
slowly eroding
the castles
I built,
on sunnier days

How to fight a tide,
when you are one
and it is an ocean?

I am
surrounded by driftwood
but too tired to build.
Lunar Mar 2015
I look out to the sea
Which reminds me of you
My thoughts reach out
But you get carried further away
To the depths of despair
To the farthest corner
You leave me behind
But my boat still stays
Pangs of loneliness
creep like shadows
and fleeting images
sad and solemn
of truants hiding
stealthy as the slide of tides
observed with half-closed eyes
finding freedom in perversity
and the serenity of silence.
WickedHope Jan 2015
She rises at night,
As new or full,
And she pulls him to his feet.

He rises at the sight of her,
A reflection of her old self,
Yet still illuminated
In her inconsistent darkness.

When she is unbalanced
He aches to compensate,
Attempts to return her kindness,
But he is left merely trying,
With her unsure of dying.

For the moon can raise the tide,
But the tide can't light the moon.
Might do more about this or something similar.

For the one who calls me his moon.
---
Chase Graham Dec 2014
Between the tangledness of legs,
arms and organs pumping
with and prodding on
beaches and blankets
because the warmth
of the Atlantic current
only separates our love
into microcosmic pieces of sand,
built up sea shells of my heart,
I can sense the waves,
wet and crashing as I hold my breathe
suspended beneath green-blue
glass tides and soft seaweed
on the in-betweens of my fingers,
a frozen moment could remain forever
floating within the folds of drenched time
and ***, I'll keep my lungs flooded
with oxygen and my heart beat slowed
and exact because drowning
with you in this deep
isn't the same as drowning at all.
Jay Jan 2015
my heart sings in rivers
and his hands are the tides
pulling me in
deeper and deeper
drowning me in his endless current
found this in my old notebook
J.D.
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