#driftwood
i wish i was young as a mayfly
and my wings didnt break
and love wouldn't die
to play in the seaside smooth-stones
with my brother as little
as a needle-eye
he was when i collected them,
he helped with the buckets
we concocted secret plans
of scientists and rockets
theres a washed up driftwood
where we seeked and hid
there must have been something
to leave the woody gap
in the woods in me
the lack
now i feel like i'm seaglass
from a pitcher never filled
or crashed against others like me
i crave and i repress
the futile social alchemy
Aug 8, 2025
Aug 8, 2025 at 2:16 PM UTC
Where on earth did you come from
what on earth have you seen
so many things have happened
since you were young and green
flowing seas have washed you
smooth on a foreign shore
what places did you visit
when will you see some more
Feb 24, 2025
Feb 24, 2025 at 10:01 PM UTC
A piece of drift wood I am
In the sea of fate
Under the storms of life
And in the world of men
A piece of drift wood I am
Floating without reason
Tossed around by waves
Whipped by the ongoing storm
A piece of drift wood I am
Saw the sun on the horizon
Mesmerized, a goal was found
Hoping waves drift me to my beloved
But I was just a mere drift wood
Without control of his fate
The sun had set, while I am still adrift
In the sea, under the storm, in the world of men
Oct 20, 2023
Oct 20, 2023 at 12:03 PM UTC
expressionless and with a stare that seemed alien
the driftwood form floated and tossed in the violent sea
not knowing where IT had been or where IT would finish
tossing and turning, relying on the forces of nature for guidance
direction towards land is more then IT could hope for
soon the chaos and turmoil of the sea stopped
was IT on sand or still drifting out there in the void
IT seemed to be motionless when a blurred image appeared
not being able to recognize what IT was
not understanding ITs newfound sensations
not realizing IT was using a sense of sight
was there more to this image that understanding would support
what is this occurrence
is this simple, is this another new unknown excitement
is this even genuine
soon, IT appeared to be lifting up, being held quite gently by something
or someone
IT was suddenly and abruptly raised up and all ITs new sensations ceased
what was this, what was ITs final feeling
IT had been found...!
Brian Hill - 2020 # 106
Apr 15, 2020
Apr 15, 2020 at 9:12 AM UTC
Chasing rainbows in my head
The world outside is cold and dead
As I'm chasing butterflies
The world outside has passed me by
And here I lie in the sands of time
Skeletal and bare
Minnows swimming through my skull
A grinning sightless stare
Diving deep to find the source
Of the pretty mermaid song
The siren voice turns me off course
Now I drift in the duldrums
As I drown in shallow waters
I could breathe if I would stand
But here I lie lulled to sleep by sirens
Comatose in the sand
Too tired now to stay awake
I think I'd rather fade away
Leave all my dreams castaway
On the ebbing tide
Wake me up or let me die
Let me drown or save my life
Let the sea take these bones
And turn them into driftwood.
Feb 24, 2019
Feb 24, 2019 at 4:06 AM UTC
smooth like beach wood
driftwood you stand
to be sat upon and dragged
cooling glassy salt
deep within your wounds
sanded with time
I wonder if you wish to be
again
as I am laying upon you
dragging you every which way
you are warped and worn
and so I'd like you to stay
but as driftwood would
you always journey forward
for another rainy beach day
Leaving me adrift in my sunny
sandy ways.
Jul 29, 2018
Jul 29, 2018 at 3:15 AM UTC
Even if I waited, as I would,
On the harbor of the sea from which you've drifted,
You are the Captain of your driftwood.
I am a Lighthouse.
Jul 8, 2018
Jul 8, 2018 at 10:01 AM UTC
Singly among the sand castles
No one noticed until he was there
Above him or in his path
We had built him like children
Build sand castles
We carved and patted him from moist earth
He was soft, yet rigid as he lay there
His gaze was skyward and uncertain..
We left him there to see what people do
And walked a distance to the dunes
We watched him among people
For he was one now.
They came. Families, elderly couples
And children too and stopped
To admire and express delight
At this sand man's sculptured form.
We felt happiness at the pleasure be brought
He made them stop a moment to feel their surroundings
And recognize his contented solitude.
Teenage boys came to jeer and leer.
One of them looked around as if in secrecy
And plunged a driftwood stick at the sandman's groin
Then quickly ran away laughing at his tale.
The stick protruded boldly
Our sand man's hands were at his sides
He felt no ruler of the sands
Only a gentle soul made of mockery.
A girl and her brother approached
After we had removed the offence.
The young boy was waving his 'mighty sword'
(Some stick which had washed ashore)
At first, with his sister in charge
They stopped to admire
But then she walked away,
Turned her back to venture on.
"Hello", he said to the sandman
As if to acknowledge someone there.
Then with his 'mighty sword' he pierced
Into the sandman's groin and
Ripped up to his chest
Then swung his 'sword' and
Cut the sand man's throat...
Why? Why! we cried in mind
As the young boy ran away
Murderer! we yelled in our hearts
IWe hurt for man
We sat stunned at this violence
This desecration of a soul.
We couldn't just leave him there
Blameless, yet aware
So we buried the sand man and prayed
Dust to dust, sand to sand
Sand he may have been
But soul he was for us.
May 31, 2018
May 31, 2018 at 9:17 AM UTC
El Niño scooped the sand
clearing every scrap of driftwood,
every construction playful of a summer’s dayful
the slapped-together forts, dinosaurs, castles
now launched to Mexico, to Tahiti, who knows?
replaced by fresh fragments of forest
twisted logs, battered beams
shed by Oregon, by Vancouver Island and Alaska
bobbed by current
to this windswept cove.
Beneath swirls of sunset
as Van Gogh might render
among scattered scallops, kelp,
sandpipers by the hundred,
one joyful dog
dances the landscape
expressing with his grin
this vast chaos
of delight.
Jul 3, 2017
Jul 3, 2017 at 9:46 PM UTC
had we wrecked
am i okay
what about him
he was there with me
we were okay
it was all fine
then something happened
i can't see
why can't i see
where is he
i reached out
he hasn't grasp me
the sails flowed with calm jerks
the wind pulled us along
but the wind has stopped
the boat does not move
the currents have changed
am i dreaming or is that drift wood
Nov 22, 2015
Nov 22, 2015 at 10:59 PM UTC
I'm running away.
I look back.
You're standing right there.
Speechless.
Emotionless.
Tear less.
But I can still see your sorrow.
I can feel it.
I can breathe it.
I can't stop it.
I'm still running away,
And I can't quite remember why.
I floated away,
Like a wooden boat on a rough sea.
Floating, anchor less.
Wave your arms toward me, baby,
Don't speak, don't scream.
Just beckon to me.
You know that you are the fire that lights my sun.
You know that you are the wind that burns my face red.
You know that you are the water that flows through me when I feel dry.
So call to me,
Like the shore calls the tide to wash away the gritty sand.
Call to me,
Like the moon brings the waves to her lips and kisses them goodbye.
Call to me,
Like the slim beam of light calls for the safe passage of the wooden boat.
Call to me, baby,
Because you'll bring me back to shore.
Sep 19, 2015
Sep 19, 2015 at 9:34 AM UTC