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#coast
it'd be a life that you and i know if we collect seashells at the coast counting fishes in the sea especially those with a gray back
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May 19
May 19, 2026 at 5:49 PM UTC
Untitled
Water will continue to flow, Even when a rock blocks it, With time even the calmest flow, Will break the rock sat upon its floor. Its the nature of matter, To flow and explore the lore, Of life and the infinite, Ever flowing ocean. At the coast of river, Block the route of forever, The rock was of the stone. Once shaped the path, Now blocks on the bay, Time saw none and paved way.
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Apr 16
Apr 16, 2026 at 12:28 PM UTC
Paved
When I lie here away from the beach Distant from crashing waves Humming crowds and sun beams The world is far off and time is local Only the coastal breeze and the romantique calls of seabirds The trees sway above my head Ants work in the grass beneath my feet Pelicans ride the faint sound of the ocean The shores of heaven surely are not Where sand and shell and seaweed gather But here, up and above the edge of the deep Where life and breath pervade the air
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Mar 29
Mar 29, 2026 at 1:02 AM UTC
The Coast
Tires hum, backs are bent clouds of words drift along: cyclists skirting along the sea They pedal and talk but don't smell what I smell don't look like I look They sweat out fragrances repeat their fiddle-faddle in monologues They feel important
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Mar 16
Mar 16, 2026 at 3:14 AM UTC
Skirting along the sea
Y’know the West of Ireland coastline gets an awful bollocking from the weather every Autumn/ Fall We get the tail end of all those hurricanes in the Carribbean when they cross the Atlantic They often do a lot of damage, wind damage, eroding the coastline, floods…. trees down, power cuts They cause a lot of distress Luckily for me I live on the East coast so we don't get it half as bad I was thinking one day if I was ever living over in the West of Ireland Of course, I'd be the local “Artist in Residence” Maybe after a few storms and the locals morale had been severely tested Maybe they'd come up to my house one day and say “You're an artist, is there anything you can do for us, to give us a boost, to give us some heart in the face of such calamitous events I’d nod my head and say”Leave it with me I'll see if I can think of anything" A week or two later I’d tell them to come up to the house I'd take them out to the garage and then I'd announce “I've done a sculpture” The sculpture would be covered by a cloth I'd grandly unveil it It'd be a fist lying on its knuckles with its middle finger extended It'd be very heavy in weight but would have wheels attached The locals would look at me mystified as if to say”What is it ?” I'd say”I call it…yea! I call it Defiance Whenever a Big Storm is forecast then wheel it down to the end of the promenade, right to the end So that it's looking right out over the ocean The wheels retract and it's very heavy, it's unmoveable... unshakable So when the storm hits and is raging, the Finger it'll be there raised …in defiance
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Jan 30
Jan 30, 2026 at 1:51 PM UTC
Defiance (The Finger)
Y’know the West of Ireland coastline gets an awful bollocking from the weather every Autumn/ Fall We get the tail end of all those hurricanes in the Carribbean when they cross the Atlantic They often do a lot of damage, wind damage, eroding the coastline, floods…. trees down, power cuts They cause a lot of distress Luckily for me I live on the East coast so we don't get it half as bad I was thinking one day if I was ever living over in the West of Ireland Of course, I'd be the local “Artist in Residence” Maybe after a few storms and the locals morale had been severely tested Maybe they'd come up to my house one day and say “You're an artist, is there anything you can do for us, to give us a boost, to give us some heart in the face of such calamitous events I’d nod my head and say”Leave it with me I'll see if I can think of anything" A week or two later I’d tell them to come up to the house I'd take them out to the garage and then I'd announce “I've done a sculpture” The sculpture would be covered by a cloth I'd grandly unveil it It'd be a fist lying on its knuckles with its middle finger extended It'd be very heavy in weight but would have wheels attached The locals would look at me mystified as if to say”What is it ?” I'd say”I call it…yea! I call it Defiance Whenever a Big Storm is forecast then wheel it down to the end of the promenade, right to the end So that it's looking right out over the ocean The wheels retract and it's very heavy, it's unmoveable... unshakable So when the storm hits and is raging, the Finger it'll be there raised …in defiance
Continue reading...
23
traveled along the coast, time was making its hostile moves it wasn’t nighttime when we gazed at the stars it is easier to fly than have a good night sleep seasons told us to go to motion pictures [the new Avatar movie] to our home cultures to produce greater versions of ourselves called “holy minds await in time” also we were addicted to watermelon chewy we walked, along the highway it is fearful in the quiet times of the streets this is the allergy it makes us wake at 7am or never sleep till 5am these splittings know themselves, just them and me; theirs, ours   that ratio: me to not-me with hideous tea inspiration and when the darkness covers like a quilt this week was existential and fun
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Dec 28, 2025
Dec 28, 2025 at 5:35 PM UTC
diary entries, dec 22-28
they mark their invisible boundaries by the coast moist air fills the lungs leaving an aching throat we say it is a part of our world yet they should be on their own undisturbed they grace us with their presence filling the coast with blessings {i Took a smooth shell that sparks like dusk buries within fine thin dust uncrushed now living in a corner within the books} though they are tarnished from their purest form they wash into our world like dawn mother with silken hands that’s warm i Refuse the world that burns cold with a legacy building on others’ doom for i am an alien that Cruises all far and about with a primal desire they may speak sweet and serene but they can roar and conquer bestowing swift death like a reaper they hug my feet that’s just inches away soothing the beats that’s ruined and astray legs moving till i can no longer reach the ground i drown within the other realm of purity they embrace the cuts the wounds from the other side the world calls it death by water but i call it a return to my origin.
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Aug 28, 2025
Aug 28, 2025 at 7:56 AM UTC
return
I wait and wait and wait for the turn of the brine tide and bored, I turn and wait no more. I walk back home, with a wooden fork and open vinegared chips.
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Sep 30, 2023
Sep 30, 2023 at 7:34 AM UTC
Vinegar
I am a soft sandal You are pebble beaches I am a lace parasol You are brutal high gales I am a yellow sundress You are sudden hail stones I am scented sunscreen You are cumulus clouds I am Mr Whippy You are a cloud of gulls You are relentless But I will adapt
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Jul 26, 2023
Jul 26, 2023 at 5:05 PM UTC
South Coast Summer
The silver moon falls from sight as the rising tide kisses adjacent piers. The cool morning rests over the gentle bay as clouds commute covering the light of day. Brown thrashers rhythmically mimic stolen song as they traverse the canal. Barefoot toes roam freely frequenting familiar footpaths. Minute minnow mouths toy with the bait bobbing the cork. Experienced hands handle seafood adopting its scent while the blue ***** boil into crimson. Afternoon showers cool the earth as a mysterious moon lowers the tide. Night falls again in Mississippi.
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Jun 6, 2023
Jun 6, 2023 at 4:21 PM UTC
Mississippi
The weak sun and clouds A blanket from the back seat It's your warmth I miss Seagulls are massive Intrepid and audacious I carry the scars Wrinkled and 60 From another century Nothing has changed One expensive stamp Short missives over Assam Wishing you were here
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May 5, 2023
May 5, 2023 at 5:24 PM UTC
Postcards from the coast
The second best place, I find, to cry openly undetected, thereby avoiding unwanted concerns, is a pier. You won't stick out, as staring out to sea isn't that uncommon and tears are a typical reaction to the sting of salt on the breeze. Fellow pier folk will leave you be, alone with the past and the uncertain sea.
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Jul 6, 2022
Jul 6, 2022 at 3:20 AM UTC
On Clevedon Pier
seconds are drops of water in a river. everyone starts at the top, and according to many, we can only coast with the waves, following their path until the end, and the river cannot be moved - no matter what happens. but how can the river stay on course when torrential, destructive hurricanes dislodge debris and soil from the ground? when the path is blocked, the river has to pave its own way.
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Apr 6, 2022
Apr 6, 2022 at 10:22 PM UTC
the river.
I woke up before the sun did. Purple darkness blotted my vision as I rolled out from under the warm comforter. The cold air seeped through my sweater the closer I padded to the window. Parting the curtains a crack, I looked out to the parking lot of the motel. Thick, greenish-white mist enveloped the pine trees and the lonely car shop across the street. It was like looking through a frosted glass shower door. Fog comes on little cat feet? More like huge tiger paws. The paws of a white tiger, looking for lost prey. Too bad for the tiger, I'm too smart to get lost.
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Nov 2, 2021
Nov 2, 2021 at 12:17 AM UTC
Oregon Coast (pt.2)
I crest the sand dune breath catching in my chest. A sigh of relief, my eyes consume the sight. The ocean is so blue. So vast. So loud, yet quiet. White noise. Joy bubbles up into my chest, onto my smiling lips and squinting eyes. My senses buzz with satisfaction. The smell of sunbaked sand, of the salty ocean air on my tongue. The wind is cold and the sun is warm. The sand, scalding hot on the surface, but cool once I bury my feet deeper. Peoples voices and seagulls calls are muted by the waves crashing against the shore. The weightless blue sky, The deep blue ocean, and the soft white sand. Simple enough, but I can't look away and I want to stay.
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Oct 11, 2021
Oct 11, 2021 at 2:30 AM UTC
Oregon Coast (pt.1)
the night cracks the sun like an egg into a pan over the ocean
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Aug 23, 2021
Aug 23, 2021 at 8:30 PM UTC
Set
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
I arose from a chamber off the ivory coast, passed the rainforest before taking a float A dip in the island valley, I trod to the meadow cote Listened to the humming birds, singing a halo note
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Mar 22, 2021
Mar 22, 2021 at 1:52 PM UTC
a chamber off the ivory coast
My life my life my life my life, in the night time ... 🎼 🎶 🎵 Watching the skylines in the night time... Nighttime(2x) 🎼 🎶 🎵 Ideas run wild in the night time... Nighttime (2x) Thoughts expand wide in the night time... Nighttime (2x) 🎼 🎶 🎵 Just peace & love & hours(4x) My life my life my life my life, in the night time... 🎼 🎶 🎵 Feel when I feel , what I feel, when I feel, what I’m feeling In the night time...(2x) 🎼 🎶 🎵 Write when I write, what I write, when I write, what I written In the night time...(2x) 🎼 🎶 🎵
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Mar 15, 2021
Mar 15, 2021 at 9:24 PM UTC
Night Life 🌙 💭 🎵
We've sailed cerulean seas to pastel shores, Known only to the glorious few, We have disembarked, ready to explore, As our lone ship waits slumbering in view of the glorious bay. Light paints daybreak across the sky. We see the rising sun through imagined jungle—and hesitate: The image lingers, but it must be done, Eyes close. Toward the interior we turn remembering, and hoping to return.
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Oct 13, 2020
Oct 13, 2020 at 6:22 PM UTC
Looking back at the bay where our ship waits slumbering
Green nights dusted newly fallen leaves tumbling about aimlessly in the mid-autumn breeze creating pathways to the unknown Deeper woods trailed sea salt skies Smells linger of forgotten books, hollowed trees midnights up past sunrise Stars twinkled above A guiding path for all of adventure that awaits In the mountains to the coast
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Oct 1, 2020
Oct 1, 2020 at 8:55 AM UTC
In the Mountains
Sea stars, urchins and anemones      ride the tidal waters at Rialto Beach            swirling into shallow pools -       clad in shades of blue, emerald and violet. Gnarls of ancient driftwood line the beach      up to the rainforest’s edge just beyond the rise.            Pulsing waves dash and roar against the sea stacks        where the Pacific adjoins the California shore. Legions of seagulls circle above        piercing the misted air with their cries            and the tide, beckoned by the Sky Queen,        begins to ebb and regain the open sea. As the sun sinks into the western sky –        the towers of Split Rock and Hole in the Wall             are silhouetted against the horizon        pasteled in gold, orange and burgundy hues. Gray whales and dolphins breach the surface        before plunging into the sacred depths            where the ocean beats pulse on and on - sounding resonant cadences        through timeless hallows of infinity.
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Aug 24, 2020
Aug 24, 2020 at 6:16 PM UTC
Olympic Coast
Sea oats rustling As salty gales drive ashore Forever dancing
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Aug 18, 2020
Aug 18, 2020 at 10:15 AM UTC
Sea oats
pilgrims, nomads, sentinels against the fury of the coast: backs bent sidelong, straining, still, they sway with loving ease under the eye of that relentless ghost. the ocean draws its breath. that salt-stained silhouette of shore under a frosted glow: a mirror pool, watchful gaze. thunderclaps of memory accost the tidal mouths below. she smiles in her sleep. in dreams aquatic, giants, titans cry their hopes and fears alike: the air collapses, crystalline. the column pauses, dreading, waiting in anticipation for the strike. and yet, the dawn arrives.
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May 25, 2020
May 25, 2020 at 6:31 PM UTC
Tempest