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#cliffs
A land of wild oceans, Over which I'd fly free, Brushing the salty seas, Under bright pink skies, Feather to feather with Pure and precious doves, Free as a lucky bird. A special world where Tiredness would mean, Sliding softly on waves Enjoying the cool water, Soothing a twisted mind, Overwhelmed by what-ifs. A kinder world where We wouldn't have to fight, Greedy, tortured beings, Stealing and abusing, What belongs to the free. A sunny world where Shining skies are granted, Where dark clouds simply Pass over and fade briefly, Where the bright moon Visits nightly, and sweetly, Sings me to a lovely sleep, Into Morpheus' embrace. My mind will keep racing, Thoughts all so high, airborne, Ojitos overlooking the cliffs, Dreaming to be a lovebird, Playing, living, loving, flying, Over the vast oceans.
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Apr 3
Apr 3, 2026 at 1:47 PM UTC
Feather to Feather
Predannack You lean back Into the wind On the clifftops at Predannack It holds your weight You test its strength Leaning a little further It holds, to your Joy It holds Arms splayed in crucifix T-shirt billowing at your sides Your sturdy ankles Planted in deep heather I watch from a rock At the cliff's edge Waves **** and swirl A death's distance below I am swept over By sweet chamomile Swept over Reeling on dizzying scents My heart is stopped By the Joy you feel For the World We killed
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Aug 10, 2021
Aug 10, 2021 at 3:32 PM UTC
Predannack
The Cornish shore … Where golden sand lies next To dappled grey granite rock, Where the sea breeze sweeps And the mussels flock, Where the rock pools gather And the small ***** patrol, Where the white foam curls And the breakers roll, Where the sea birds call And the salt spray stings, Where the seaweed sunbathes And the limpet clings, Where a stream’s course meanders, And reflects the azure sky, Where a starfish gazes skywards And white clouds go scudding by. By all means take treasured memories, But please take nothing more, And leave nothing but your footprints On this sacred Cornish shore …
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May 8, 2021
May 8, 2021 at 1:08 AM UTC
Cornish Shore
It's as though you are out at sea And I am bound to those cliffs Staring out, hoping Waiting for you to return to me - Jay M October 22nd, 2020
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Oct 22, 2020
Oct 22, 2020 at 3:57 PM UTC
Bound Upon A Cliff
I used to run across the Moherian cliffs And jump to catch the first sunlight nether wisps As they twinkled like dawning fireflies shone In the jar of a hopeful wish For as just as in your hand there mine own exists Con·tent·edly
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Aug 4, 2020
Aug 4, 2020 at 7:54 PM UTC
Beneath The Irish Sun Alive
Like a broken iPod We cannot quite mend I see only cliffs Around every turn and bend
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Feb 17, 2019
Feb 17, 2019 at 12:23 AM UTC
Broken iPod
My hands trace rivers down his back Soft silt streambeds My tongue follows the waveforms of his hips Warm skin with lazy currents My ears feel your heartbeat resonate in your chest Strong swells crash into stone cliffs My lips taste honey and saltwater dripping from yours A mix of dalliance and mischief Our bodies meld into sea foam
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Jan 5, 2019
Jan 5, 2019 at 5:23 AM UTC
Neptune
I look up to the cliff above* sigh* I turned around and shook my head I can't there's no way even if I climb it I couldn't get down the water isn't deep enough the sides are too steep So in silence we sat watching the waves roll in letting the silence consume the space between us Until he said yeah you really couldn't I mean maybe I could but not you I was taken aback how dare he say I can't I could do anything if I want to I looked back up at the perilous slopes back down at the waves crashing into sea boulders And I stood up grabbed by bags and started my journey to the top Because no fear would stand in the way and absolutely no one could tell me I was incapable
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Dec 7, 2018
Dec 7, 2018 at 5:49 PM UTC
Cliff Jumping
The cliffs of home stand With all their memories The thrashing waves And birds warning melodies The route was easy It wasn’t far Easy to get to The path by the bar I look around Walking along It didn’t seem right Something was too wrong I reach the cliff i dreamed of All I had to do was climb down the cliff Without fear Until I hear the birds warning riff I steady myself cautiously And make my way down I loose my balance A trip A cliff A clip A flip Nothing clear Nothing clear Nothing clear Nothing clear
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Nov 23, 2018
Nov 23, 2018 at 4:24 PM UTC
The cliffs of home
The world is flat That's what they told me ...and I always take people at their word Nice people like at The Acme Company always believing what they say I am a gullible fool to trust, to love, to hope to get ground down that way I cower I yelp when kicked Running, madly scramble over edge of ice (New concept of Antarctica) Missed the sign for The Acme Map Company and that dead end Loaded down with Acme Explosives Cartoon coyote Always sees “that painted tunnel” as possible place to hide Inexplicably shows up again-- just a little fried smoke rising from my scalp small white flag in hand says, “HELP” Scramble over that ledge of melting ice and crumbling shame Clinging by my fingertips You'd think something would finally do me in Me and "Wile E. Coyote--  Genius" ________ https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j8eP0ntOJ1U Wile E. Coyote and the Road Runner are classic cartoon characters that date back to 1949.  They've been popular ever since.  I think the sound effects, music, and the timing of the animators are elements that make them so good.  Their expressions just **** me.
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Dec 30, 2017
Dec 30, 2017 at 8:01 PM UTC
Back on the Flat Earth
We danced on the cliff you and I. Born of love and light. Bred of sadness and darkness. Melted together, alone but alive. Our love smelled of the earth and of the chalk and the timelessness of it all. And I think now of all the lovers who have stood where we stood. Of all of the stories of love and loss that have roots in the chalk beneath our feet, above our heads held close together preserving our perfect quiet world. I wonder how many arms clung tight to each other against the future stretching out like the channel before us. And I wonder about the thousands of years these cliffs have been stage to the greatest dramas of so many lives. Were any of them as torn as I was? Does my misery, my sadness, my loss and confusion mingle with theirs now? Is my heartbreak their company in the mist? How many of them had to watch the love of their life disappear into the English fog like I had to watch you go? I yearn for that love. For the power of it. I ache for it to fill me once more like the sea salt and mist that settles over, I strive for the way it felt when you stood next to me in Dover.
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Nov 24, 2017
Nov 24, 2017 at 4:42 PM UTC
Chalk
Most of my life is a forgotten cliffside. There's nothing you can really do about it, it's just the consequence you pay for being alive. I don't remember a lot of my childhood. I can remember my schools, my friends, my parents, my teachers. But I don't remember my sisters. Only my brother, the little boy carrying the family name on his shoulder blades... But he is not ready for that. As for my sisters... I do not officially "know them" until they begin to leave. I was 11 when they started leaving my house, and 13 when they started re-entering my life. There is no excuse for arriving late to my life crisis. But what crisis is there anyway? I grew up alone. Sisters too old, brother too young, parents too protective. And me... Too eager to run through the halls of my early life, and high school is not what I expected the years to be. But I am still here... alive. And there will always be that to hold on to when the sky falls from the stars that pin up the rest of the universe. Or the the clouds fall from the blue sky just before that cliffside collapses into the abyss. This is the artistry that is my life on a power surge. Feeling the shock of the first kiss, and the break of the last word. The many voices, and single sayings. The before and after. The push and then the fall. The feeling of all my memories being shot. But not killed. This is the joy of living off of the electric tower... or the Eiffel tower. This is life made wild, love made public, friends made family, me made whole again. Me surviving the cliffside fall for the 378th time this week. Safety nets were never written in the fine print of this circus act. But this feeling can **** as much as it can save. It is, and always will be a cosmic shot across the front of my skull... Opening my mind into eternity. Until I decide to go back to that cliffside... Again.
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Mar 20, 2017
Mar 20, 2017 at 3:21 AM UTC
There Is, There Was, There Has Been
Most of my life is a forgotten cliffside. There's nothing you can really do about it, it's just the consequence you pay for being alive. I don't remember a lot of my childhood. I can remember my schools, my friends, my parents, my teachers. But I don't remember my sisters. Only my brother, the little boy carrying the family name on his shoulder blades... But he is not ready for that. As for my sisters... I do not officially "know them" until they begin to leave. I was 11 when they started leaving my house, and 13 when they started re-entering my life. There is no excuse for arriving late to my life crisis. But what crisis is there anyway? I grew up alone. Sisters too old, brother too young, parents too protective. And me... Too eager to run through the halls of my early life, and high school is not what I expected the years to be. But I am still here... alive. And there will always be that to hold on to when the sky falls from the stars that pin up the rest of the universe. Or the the clouds fall from the blue sky just before that cliffside collapses into the abyss. This is the artistry that is my life on a power surge. Feeling the shock of the first kiss, and the break of the last word. The many voices, and single sayings. The before and after. The push and then the fall. The feeling of all my memories being shot. But not killed. This is the joy of living off of the electric tower... or the Eiffel tower. This is life made wild, love made public, friends made family, me made whole again. Me surviving the cliffside fall for the 378th time this week. Safety nets were never written in the fine print of this circus act. But this feeling can **** as much as it can save. It is, and always will be a cosmic shot across the front of my skull... Opening my mind into eternity. Until I decide to go back to that cliffside... Again.
Continue reading...
21
Would it tear you apart to know that I was clean for so long. Would it tear you apart to know that the the number is back to zero. Would it hurt if I told you how you woke up those monsters inside my head that all steer me towards steep cliffs of insanity. Would it hurt you to know that I stepped off. Would you cry knowing that you choosing her broke me. Would you cry if you saw my shattered bones spelled your name. No I don't think it would. My screams are not silent, they are carved into my body, they erupt from my eyes but baby you never were one to notice how my heart bled for you. Our love was a metaphor written in a language you didn't understand. maybe you need to learn to read.
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Jan 4, 2016
Jan 4, 2016 at 9:37 PM UTC
Would it Tear You Apart?