#anchors - Hello Poetry

In closing words for unwritten book All commemorate in timely due A land of causality that surely shook In no duality - I love Thee true.

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Jan 30

Jan 30, 2026 at 11:36 AM UTC

Elijah

Title Unnamed - The Forever Placeholder

In closing words for unwritten book All commemorate in timely due A land of causality that surely shook In no duality - I love Thee true.

4

In a sea of liquid gold Your boats are full A bounty, an argosy wasted Adrift with no wind to fill your sails Anchors aplenty Weigh you down Pull at you and slow you As you eat of yourself Children on the shore Beg a piece of bread Just beyond your hearing And conscience you have shed Widows mourn their loss Their houses you have taken To the streets they go Like you they are forsaken He has rowed away Beyond you in the sea Left the dead to bury dead Set the captives free

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Jan 29, 2021

Jan 29, 2021 at 3:06 PM UTC

dusty-o-sageman

Adrift

In a sea of liquid gold Your boats are full A bounty, an argosy wasted Adrift with no wind to fill your sails Anchors aplenty Weigh you down Pull at you and slow you As you eat of yourself Children on the shore Beg a piece of bread Just beyond your hearing And conscience you have shed Widows mourn their loss Their houses you have taken To the streets they go Like you they are forsaken He has rowed away Beyond you in the sea Left the dead to bury dead Set the captives free

20

Some say the wind blew sand in their eyes Yet the wind just said hello to the beaches The ocean was jealous and it raged in waves All wondered what does this moment teach They say the wind was mistreated as well On many occasions, they had observed But they only were brave to mention it now How the wind was called a loser, a clown! There on the shore, there’s this person, a clown His mouth always smiling, his eyes shed some tears He tried his best to cheer you, yet all you did was frown Your words, fools, put anchors on him, now he fears...

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Dec 16, 2020

Dec 16, 2020 at 2:53 PM UTC

Carmen_Jane

Anchors

Some say the wind blew sand in their eyes Yet the wind just said hello to the beaches The ocean was jealous and it raged in waves All wondered what does this moment teach They say the wind was mistreated as well On many occasions, they had observed But they only were brave to mention it now How the wind was called a loser, a clown! There on the shore, there’s this person, a clown His mouth always smiling, his eyes shed some tears He tried his best to cheer you, yet all you did was frown Your words, fools, put anchors on him, now he fears...

12

what is this from my palms blood drips razor blade sips child like manners wording me to tears cry with me here she is crying was it me she asks never mind me her mother never said that she clipped our wings here from the cage we can see my wings from my palms ? ... .. .

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Feb 15, 2018

Feb 15, 2018 at 7:07 AM UTC

lashingstars

from my palms

what is this from my palms blood drips razor blade sips child like manners wording me to tears cry with me here she is crying was it me she asks never mind me her mother never said that she clipped our wings here from the cage we can see my wings from my palms ? ... .. .

27

I wanted to believe There was a river once In which all hearts were satisfied And where maybe even we Could have floated forever Underneath its cool and liquid stars But this is not true Time sends its ripples Through our tangled hearts And the night folding over - presses down And covers up our lives We have one colonial secret Which only the vagabonds pass In whispers Upon our unknowable paths We meet again We part We meet again We part While slowly the chains Drag in the sea Of our deep hearts.

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Mar 6, 2016

Mar 6, 2016 at 6:05 AM UTC

bill-higham

Anchors

I wanted to believe There was a river once In which all hearts were satisfied And where maybe even we Could have floated forever Underneath its cool and liquid stars But this is not true Time sends its ripples Through our tangled hearts And the night folding over - presses down And covers up our lives We have one colonial secret Which only the vagabonds pass In whispers Upon our unknowable paths We meet again We part We meet again We part While slowly the chains Drag in the sea Of our deep hearts.

22

I. This is how it ends: Two sneakered feet pounding Staccato hearts into the blackened tar Of the streets, yelling. *(But what are they yelling? A name. My name.)* And my platinum hair is up Out of my face, so the wind kisses My cheeks, turns them red and blue Like me: Red, for the number of times He will one day turn the color of my shame To a scalding hot 10; and blue, The cloud that lays Over me, when he proves my instincts right When they told me to run. This is how it ends And I’m six and overhearing My mother tell my dad to Do a different dance on Someone else’s blackened tar, And now they live in a cute house Under a cloudless sky With my dog and seven reasons why They never look up and see me there, Older and darker but Always running to the south, Away from their winter. This is how it ends. But not for him. This is how it ends: Pictures on a feed Spinning realities you’ll never taste And never need With slings and smiles and Canned joy, selling success for a nickel And sadness for a dollar. It ends, and you see her With her dyed hair and lipstick *(Red, to remind you And red, to forget you)* And you pause – because, really, Did you expect that you couldn’t? And suddenly you start seeing her Silhouette in every doorway and Hearing her heavy steel words Laying like anchors on your heart Always pulling, tugging, moving towards her And that beautiful sunny day when She looked through you for The last time. *(You wonder how a ghost Could feel this heavy)* II. This is how it begins: One coffee full of Too much cream, and laughter Ringing too loudly In your ears Because of something you said. And footsteps slapping on Wet concrete, meeting tiny slippered Eager feet, feeling safer now Hugged by tiny hands Than in his strong arms that left you Bruised. It begins in the quick silences Between sentences, and meanings Upon words, and breaths Between kisses Atop laps, Atop chairs, Atop wishes. It begins when you listen And you’re sitting in your car Watching dusk paint the sky And you can feel the groan of the earth Beneath you, see the planet revolve itself Into darkness, and you can’t hear her Caustic voice and The way she sounded when she left, and You can’t feel his hands on you or his Beard where it chafed your thighs – no, That is where it ends. And this is where you start. (Unload the anchors from your heart.)

0

Oct 14, 2014

Oct 14, 2014 at 1:52 AM UTC

genma-j

This Is How It Ends

I. This is how it ends: Two sneakered feet pounding Staccato hearts into the blackened tar Of the streets, yelling. *(But what are they yelling? A name. My name.)* And my platinum hair is up Out of my face, so the wind kisses My cheeks, turns them red and blue Like me: Red, for the number of times He will one day turn the color of my shame To a scalding hot 10; and blue, The cloud that lays Over me, when he proves my instincts right When they told me to run. This is how it ends And I’m six and overhearing My mother tell my dad to Do a different dance on Someone else’s blackened tar, And now they live in a cute house Under a cloudless sky With my dog and seven reasons why They never look up and see me there, Older and darker but Always running to the south, Away from their winter. This is how it ends. But not for him. This is how it ends: Pictures on a feed Spinning realities you’ll never taste And never need With slings and smiles and Canned joy, selling success for a nickel And sadness for a dollar. It ends, and you see her With her dyed hair and lipstick *(Red, to remind you And red, to forget you)* And you pause – because, really, Did you expect that you couldn’t? And suddenly you start seeing her Silhouette in every doorway and Hearing her heavy steel words Laying like anchors on your heart Always pulling, tugging, moving towards her And that beautiful sunny day when She looked through you for The last time. *(You wonder how a ghost Could feel this heavy)* II. This is how it begins: One coffee full of Too much cream, and laughter Ringing too loudly In your ears Because of something you said. And footsteps slapping on Wet concrete, meeting tiny slippered Eager feet, feeling safer now Hugged by tiny hands Than in his strong arms that left you Bruised. It begins in the quick silences Between sentences, and meanings Upon words, and breaths Between kisses Atop laps, Atop chairs, Atop wishes. It begins when you listen And you’re sitting in your car Watching dusk paint the sky And you can feel the groan of the earth Beneath you, see the planet revolve itself Into darkness, and you can’t hear her Caustic voice and The way she sounded when she left, and You can’t feel his hands on you or his Beard where it chafed your thighs – no, That is where it ends. And this is where you start. (Unload the anchors from your heart.)

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