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#dock
He carried the weight Wooden crate filled with Hope and Joy Goods and Supplies Down the gangplank into the milling crowed Wooden dock all a flow People moving to and fro Seeking and sought between... Massive wooden ships all agleam with rigging and sail Two bells — Mr. Christian Two bells As the sound from that burnished bell Rang out across the scene Men all drudgery, groaned. Four more hours between End of day revelry Sign here....cargo delivered Payment....rendered Back to the hold More cargo to unfold Sound the bell Four if you please — Mr. Christian Joy lept up — work day done The men stopped, and stood looking at the setting sun Hue and Cry went out Job's all done Everyone is paid Cargo all delivered Now for some fun Scampering through the Setting Sun.
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Mar 13
Mar 13, 2026 at 9:48 AM UTC
Sailing Ship Trade
It isn’t there to be cute. It isn’t there to float for fun. It just marks the plac where too much water has to go. They tied it to the pipe so no one would forget where the lake keeps emptying itself. In the mornings it barely moves. At night it knocks gently against the plastic, a small sound you only hear if you’re already listening. It watches the water leave over and over and never asks where it’s going. Never asks why some things can’t stay. Sometimes the lake is calm and sometimes it isn’t, but the duck stays right where it’s told. Bright yellow. Impossible to miss. Still somehow overlooked unless you know to look for it. I think about how many things are only there to signal damage, how many small, soft shapes exist just to say this is where it spills. I think about how no one thanks them. How they’re not meant to be held. How they aren’t sad— just necessary. And I wonder if that’s what I am too.
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Dec 14, 2025
Dec 14, 2025 at 12:15 PM UTC
plastic duck
First is a tree who's name wasn't taught Next, then of course,  a tree now forgot And then many maples A spruce and a birch, Then the last leafless branch on which these words perch: Now Into blue sky Through swirled clouds I search On this dock as a bible In this lake like a church; My soul does the backstroke Toward the blue dream, I lurch.
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Aug 3, 2020
Aug 3, 2020 at 2:01 AM UTC
Murphy's
At the dock of my dreams I sit, WATCHING morning sun rise. Watching AS TIDE TAKES mind away inside quiet time. I watch as time floats away No time wasted no time taken for granted I sit at dock WATCHING tide divinely dance. Watching as breath match waves and change WAITS clvidid first in mind then in heart. I watch as bones rest. I mediate roaming in a grateful mind no time waisted no visions taken for granted. I sit at dock no place I’d rather be after roaming many a mile I let self simmer into moment I ready self for change to plant roots so dreams flower No time waisted No reason not to smile.
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Feb 2, 2020
Feb 2, 2020 at 11:16 AM UTC
No Time Waisted
Waiting quietly in line at the age of nine Wet hair clinging to nervous skin Remembering previous summers Past attempts I failed to swim To pass you must bring yourself To the water trampoline and back to the dock Then tread water for thirty seconds By then arms feel like rocks My friends wished me luck Before into the water I leapt Pushed my muscles through the cold As I surfaced from the murky depths I reached the looming yellow island Turned around, feet on the ladder, and kicked I used that small bit of extra momentum To keep paddling  though lungs constrict When I find myself back at the wooden dock Then final countdown starts Each cell in my body is aching This is the last and hardest part Fighting with the freezing lake The test is nearly done Just as I am about to give up 5..4..3..2..1!
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Dec 3, 2019
Dec 3, 2019 at 11:03 AM UTC
Swim Test
I stand on an abandoned dock There's nothing in the desolate water Just me facing the wind, no one to talk Blowing onto my face, salty tidewater Eyes closed with clouds overhead The wind blows, bringing in different things grief, pain, loss, lies, all unsaid But the wind runs its own course, caring for nothing Yielding for none So I stand there, fists clenched Faced stoically towards the wind, I could run I remember the people behind me, each entrenched Those who rely on me to block the salty sea Sometime they don't feel the breeze At times they forget the wind even blows, if only they could see I never could through, as my very soul it tries to seize This is my duty, like a giant totem pole Watching over my people, they are my pearl Keeping my hands clenched, I think of my role They are ignorant to the real world But that keeps me locked to the world Against each gust of wind Then I remember the one before me and all his worth The one I looked up to, the one I wish I could send Always there looking off at the horizon Waiting for something But always blocking the wind and what lies within At the time I knew nothing of these things Then like the wind, he moved on Leaving that patch of worn wood where he stood abandoned But just because he left didn't mean the wind moved on The wind destroyed the home my family had made so grand I was left with a choice: Let the winds destroy my home Or listen to my inner voice So I marched down to that dock all alone The winds in my face Threatening to knock me over every step I take Hands against the wind I pressed against its chill embrace Until I found the end of my fate I placed my feet in the ground Locked into place So now I stand here not making a sound But now there's something in the water Ships coming into harbor As they lower their anchor They come out single file The first walks out "We've all braved the storm too" Then she grabs hold of my hand As if following her orders, the others do the same One by one Ship by ship The line following the shore from my crowded dock begins to unify And with each one of their cries The wind slowly begins to die
0
Aug 14, 2018
Aug 14, 2018 at 10:52 PM UTC
The Dock
I stand on an abandoned dock There's nothing in the desolate water Just me facing the wind, no one to talk Blowing onto my face, salty tidewater Eyes closed with clouds overhead The wind blows, bringing in different things grief, pain, loss, lies, all unsaid But the wind runs its own course, caring for nothing Yielding for none So I stand there, fists clenched Faced stoically towards the wind, I could run I remember the people behind me, each entrenched Those who rely on me to block the salty sea Sometime they don't feel the breeze At times they forget the wind even blows, if only they could see I never could through, as my very soul it tries to seize This is my duty, like a giant totem pole Watching over my people, they are my pearl Keeping my hands clenched, I think of my role They are ignorant to the real world But that keeps me locked to the world Against each gust of wind Then I remember the one before me and all his worth The one I looked up to, the one I wish I could send Always there looking off at the horizon Waiting for something But always blocking the wind and what lies within At the time I knew nothing of these things Then like the wind, he moved on Leaving that patch of worn wood where he stood abandoned But just because he left didn't mean the wind moved on The wind destroyed the home my family had made so grand I was left with a choice: Let the winds destroy my home Or listen to my inner voice So I marched down to that dock all alone The winds in my face Threatening to knock me over every step I take Hands against the wind I pressed against its chill embrace Until I found the end of my fate I placed my feet in the ground Locked into place So now I stand here not making a sound But now there's something in the water Ships coming into harbor As they lower their anchor They come out single file The first walks out "We've all braved the storm too" Then she grabs hold of my hand As if following her orders, the others do the same One by one Ship by ship The line following the shore from my crowded dock begins to unify And with each one of their cries The wind slowly begins to die
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56
a poster here showed her captive still knows her radiant looks replace her opportunity where looks were here only to browse and dispel our fear of brazen and trim her eyes there with antiquity
0
Feb 8, 2018
Feb 8, 2018 at 7:34 AM UTC
on the road
It was a cold dark night. The moon hung bright In the starry eternal sky. It was a night I Would usually be afraid of, But as we shivered on the dock, Surrounded by the shimmering water, I was at ease. In your arms I felt peace.
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Dec 19, 2017
Dec 19, 2017 at 4:36 PM UTC
Moonlight on the dock
Non-parity used to bring electric shocks to this house husband, who wrote the following during an earlier chapter of mine existence. ------------------------------------------------ natural temptation found command from divine dada disobeyed earthbound Olympian of love now dwells amidst mossy glade in which human guise, she doles out secrets of amorous trade into dreamland such desire does in vade. victuals to satiate pleasures of flesh especially erogenous zones administered by imaginary mistress sin seductive tones thru this private line, but no other phones triggering mine little rolling stones inducing groin seams of pants extreme groans toward pocket sixty nine without any bones. a copious amount of adoration suffuses entire body of this man her, whose gentle and kind embrace promises to be eternal plan whose healthy libido will probably outlive life span. royal carpet treatment awaits me each and every day as differences between myself and august dweller on high establish a bounty and glory of compassion to roll in the hay atop bodacious, delicious, felicitous fantasy asks me to lie imbibing succulent atmosphere akin to an eternal month o may taking spirit soaring thousands of miles of feet in the sky. upon hearing sweet nothings nobody else can hear a sheer grin of joy lights up countenance ear to ear despite impish quarks of this divine being so dear as journey to inxs of nirvana induced from being buck naked bare. while ******* hallucination at my male member does yank reality quite the opposite with a wife acidly rank she frequently pulls my hair as a childish prank knowing full well that action turns mood sour as a crank I would escape, but no money in piggy bank. other times, her karma roars into a tempest with a rage lashing out like a half-crazed maniac loosed upon global stage on account of silent battles we regularly wage. i admit my own fair share of peculiar traits which only to private confidences t'will now relate keep on the q-t lest spouse doth berate. chief among these oddities comprise lower gastrointestinal perturbations issuing from the *** which prompt innumerable outbursts of gas which range from quiet puff to noisy, windy pass. after usage of toilet with a bowel movement large enough to sink a sub wash ****** residue from my behind with a hose attached to the tub. this couple resembles Frankenstein & his bride – argh what a pair she taunts when i shower, clean the rest of my body including hair dry follicles shaking head back & forth side to side through the air. there you now know foibles and unusual personal ways uttering that such antics how she plays like netted in a one man fraternity undergoing constant haze pelting this poor soul scraps of food, she flays until these covered with thick pasty gloppy glaze, now laugh till you fall over and remain in stitches for days.
0
Nov 8, 2017
Nov 8, 2017 at 5:01 PM UTC
temporal incarnation of Aphrodite
Non-parity used to bring electric shocks to this house husband, who wrote the following during an earlier chapter of mine existence. ------------------------------------------------ natural temptation found command from divine dada disobeyed earthbound Olympian of love now dwells amidst mossy glade in which human guise, she doles out secrets of amorous trade into dreamland such desire does in vade. victuals to satiate pleasures of flesh especially erogenous zones administered by imaginary mistress sin seductive tones thru this private line, but no other phones triggering mine little rolling stones inducing groin seams of pants extreme groans toward pocket sixty nine without any bones. a copious amount of adoration suffuses entire body of this man her, whose gentle and kind embrace promises to be eternal plan whose healthy libido will probably outlive life span. royal carpet treatment awaits me each and every day as differences between myself and august dweller on high establish a bounty and glory of compassion to roll in the hay atop bodacious, delicious, felicitous fantasy asks me to lie imbibing succulent atmosphere akin to an eternal month o may taking spirit soaring thousands of miles of feet in the sky. upon hearing sweet nothings nobody else can hear a sheer grin of joy lights up countenance ear to ear despite impish quarks of this divine being so dear as journey to inxs of nirvana induced from being buck naked bare. while ******* hallucination at my male member does yank reality quite the opposite with a wife acidly rank she frequently pulls my hair as a childish prank knowing full well that action turns mood sour as a crank I would escape, but no money in piggy bank. other times, her karma roars into a tempest with a rage lashing out like a half-crazed maniac loosed upon global stage on account of silent battles we regularly wage. i admit my own fair share of peculiar traits which only to private confidences t'will now relate keep on the q-t lest spouse doth berate. chief among these oddities comprise lower gastrointestinal perturbations issuing from the *** which prompt innumerable outbursts of gas which range from quiet puff to noisy, windy pass. after usage of toilet with a bowel movement large enough to sink a sub wash ****** residue from my behind with a hose attached to the tub. this couple resembles Frankenstein & his bride – argh what a pair she taunts when i shower, clean the rest of my body including hair dry follicles shaking head back & forth side to side through the air. there you now know foibles and unusual personal ways uttering that such antics how she plays like netted in a one man fraternity undergoing constant haze pelting this poor soul scraps of food, she flays until these covered with thick pasty gloppy glaze, now laugh till you fall over and remain in stitches for days.
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83
My head is a bay. The memory of you like the waves that swarm when the wind switches and the whistle of the ship is sounded. The longitude lines fall on a map, the navigation is helpless when I'm bowed in the presence of your eyes. That eyes which was made from the rainy season. Your ships contain anxiety, vulnerable content, whereas love is a minor deviation from a cruise line. I am the dock for you. Anchored and wake the seagulls. For a long time no one leaned, or just reminded that the sea is not always blue. Anchored and wake me up. Because your whisper is more patient than the air that hit the masts. Your presence is the reason why light is never lost at the top of the lighthouse. Anchored and wake me up. Because the best morning is when my longing is covered with your eyelashes, my sleep is overgrown with black dots that hold your lip line, my vanish is ****** in a trough hidden behind your soul. Wake me, with the most desolate shaking you have.
0
Aug 2, 2017
Aug 2, 2017 at 5:48 AM UTC
My Head is a Bay
A river among a stream forecast only myriad of dream when early dew easily derived as mad while peace here is now our dream with thinking that imbed these orchid pastels once weight did keep it from debt only seemingly then but the river quay abscond many hats to wear again while canoe does display this garden wall with a dream of a lifetime so it's shone when into darkness finding a rainbow and each river there a quay did find a reeve for contaminates as water must goldenly flow as their sustenance can keep evermore alive.
0
Jan 27, 2017
Jan 27, 2017 at 7:01 AM UTC
The River Quay
Safe in my harbor, docked with you... assured my heart, was safe with you. My turn came to take the crew, time to part from the dock and you... looked at you sideways, but was forced to steer away. Thought you would lift your hands, and stop me from sailing by... thought you would rush to me, riding past the rough waves... Felt your pain as you tried to break away, your agonised look when the ropes didn't give away... you grimaced and I felt the tremor in you, as I took every step away from you. Not so sure when we would meet again, We would if the storms are kind... I will brave the winds and the storms, to rush to your side as soon as i can... Wishing for another crew, sail you en route... What more can I do, except wishing you would join. The wait is inevitable, The wait is frustrating... The wait is intolerable, The wait chokes me... Wish we're merged on our sides, that way we can move side by side... Be it morning, be it night, life would be fun with you be my side... sunbathing on a sunny day, fighting the waves on a stormy day, not caring if the sun dries us, or when the rain soaks us, or when the wind tosses us... Together we will stand proud, like a flag at full mast... fluttering with joy, Gulls bellowing by.... Wish we're merged on our sides, that way we can move side by side... Be it morning, be it night, life would be fun with you be my side.
0
May 21, 2016
May 21, 2016 at 2:47 PM UTC
Safe in a Harbour, docked with you
I was terrified of water more than I feared death, From the youngest age, Looking back I guess this makes since, I was the first to climb a tall ladder, I was the first to climb over fences, Talk to strangers, I had no fear of death, It had no bound on me, Still I was afraid of water, One day I woke up in my little green bed, And decided I wanted to swim, Before my fear would make me watch as the other children did, So what's a toddler that can barely walk to do? Give up? no no! I had my mind set on it, So I stumbled right down to the end of the dock, One little leg lifted, Followed by another, I was in the water, I almost drown that day, But death did not prevail then, I was not allowed on the deep end for years and years after other kids, I grew up watching, Dreaming, Hoping, That one day I would swim, My father was too busy to teach me, My mother was too sick to swim herself, Relatives were far away, So I grew up in kiddie pools, It was boring, So very boring, Still years later, Even the sight of a kiddie pool bores me, I did not give up, Although it was drilled into my head that the deep end is dangerous, And so is swimming alone, And so is not wearing a life vest, And so is walking alone by water, And that drowning was bad, Very very bad, It was drilled into my head that it should be my biggest fear, And so it did, But still, Me being me I did not give up, I would grab onto the edge of the sides of my little kiddie pool, And paddle paddle my little feet, I could stay afloat for a few seconds, It took me years, Years, To learn how to swim, No one taught me how, I just tried and tried, It still took me years to not be afraid of drowning, That still haunts me, But I'm still not afraid of tall ladders, Or climbing over fences, Or talking to strangers, I love to swim, I loved to swim even before I could swim, I realized something recently, The criticism from my family, The jabs from my friends, All about how I couldn't swim, Made me want to swim even more, And I did! They never admitted that they were wrong, My grandma thought I was slow I'm sure, Now I've proved her wrong and all the others, Yet still, They expect me to fail, I'll just keep remembering, How they meant to tear me down, But instead build me up, That is the story of how I learned to swim.
0
Jun 24, 2015
Jun 24, 2015 at 11:08 AM UTC
How I learned to swim
I was terrified of water more than I feared death, From the youngest age, Looking back I guess this makes since, I was the first to climb a tall ladder, I was the first to climb over fences, Talk to strangers, I had no fear of death, It had no bound on me, Still I was afraid of water, One day I woke up in my little green bed, And decided I wanted to swim, Before my fear would make me watch as the other children did, So what's a toddler that can barely walk to do? Give up? no no! I had my mind set on it, So I stumbled right down to the end of the dock, One little leg lifted, Followed by another, I was in the water, I almost drown that day, But death did not prevail then, I was not allowed on the deep end for years and years after other kids, I grew up watching, Dreaming, Hoping, That one day I would swim, My father was too busy to teach me, My mother was too sick to swim herself, Relatives were far away, So I grew up in kiddie pools, It was boring, So very boring, Still years later, Even the sight of a kiddie pool bores me, I did not give up, Although it was drilled into my head that the deep end is dangerous, And so is swimming alone, And so is not wearing a life vest, And so is walking alone by water, And that drowning was bad, Very very bad, It was drilled into my head that it should be my biggest fear, And so it did, But still, Me being me I did not give up, I would grab onto the edge of the sides of my little kiddie pool, And paddle paddle my little feet, I could stay afloat for a few seconds, It took me years, Years, To learn how to swim, No one taught me how, I just tried and tried, It still took me years to not be afraid of drowning, That still haunts me, But I'm still not afraid of tall ladders, Or climbing over fences, Or talking to strangers, I love to swim, I loved to swim even before I could swim, I realized something recently, The criticism from my family, The jabs from my friends, All about how I couldn't swim, Made me want to swim even more, And I did! They never admitted that they were wrong, My grandma thought I was slow I'm sure, Now I've proved her wrong and all the others, Yet still, They expect me to fail, I'll just keep remembering, How they meant to tear me down, But instead build me up, That is the story of how I learned to swim.
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75
That night went by so fast, almost as if it never happened. Yet it went so slow that every single word and thought and emotion was processed like the meat you buy from the supermarket. Yet some things are still so unclear. The adventuring must have meant nothing to you. The hours we spent laying on the hammock were so bittersweet. Sweet when you held me in your warm embrace, and bitter when you got up and walked away. I still hear the sound of your voice and think of earthquakes. I remember the low rumble coming from my heart; or was it my lungs? Either way, there was a very unnatural disaster occurring somewhere within my chest that day and I can’t help but think of the bike rides in the woods. The winding roads, the rocks and branches, the trips and falls, the scratches and cuts, and how you kissed every single one. Your lips were like a dream and I remember how your eyes looked when you told me about your father. I didn't think someone so magnificent was capable of feeling that much pain and loneliness and maybe now I understand why you couldn't stay. But that doesn't explain why you left me there almost as if to say, "I changed my mind. Loving you is impossible. It’s too much work, it’s too much pain." But if that's true, then why is it my heart being shattered between your teeth? All I wanted was a little more time.
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Jun 9, 2014
Jun 9, 2014 at 11:43 PM UTC
The Back Dock
I carry my doubt, worry, fears out to your truck but leave them in the passengers seat. For this moment, I am alive. I gaze out towards the orange and brown trees, tinted with a red as deep as the love I feel for you. Walk towards the wind, my hair rustles with the leaves and you laugh as my cheeks turn pink from the cold. Sit out on a dock and overlookinh a lake straight from a painting, I am alive. I can see the green horizon and the reflections of branches in the water, over hills and under grass, if you look just a little farther, you'll find you and me, because we're so alone in this moment and I can finally breathe because I feel so free. I lean into the wind, fall back against the dock and sigh, a smile on my face, the lake looks like a thousand diamonds strewn across a blue plane. I am alive. I am breathing, and for once I don't hate the fact that I am. This sno-berry tea carries the taste of longing that, if elsewhere, I can only get from your lips, and I love it. I am an addict itching for a fix of release from reality and instead of my normal methods, I found it in you.
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Nov 9, 2014
Nov 9, 2014 at 6:16 PM UTC
"Live" (One-Word Prompt)
I sit on the old wooden panels Making up the bayside dock Not a sound to be heard A single lantern providing A small amount of light In a sea of darkness I stare into the water Seeing nothing but black It's as if If I were to jump I'd fall endlessly into an abyss In the distance are the siloets of trees Bordering the river The horizon just barely looking over Trying to get a peak I touch the water A ripple races through Like broken glass It's on the old wood panels Of the bayside dock I find happiness
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Sep 11, 2014
Sep 11, 2014 at 5:05 PM UTC
Bayside dock
From the dock, I saw the wheel turn. I wonder, when is it my turn? My turn at turning. Being stationary isn't satisfactory I want to go, even if the turning is slow. Makes no difference to me. What I love to be is to turn above the sea. Soaring high and free.
0
Sep 10, 2014
Sep 10, 2014 at 3:24 PM UTC
Turn Above the Sea