#oceanside
That morning Glory
Which children spread.
Over earth and sky,
Lingers like secret sunshine.
Permeating a multitude of roofs,
A multitude of rooms.
On oceanside grey,
Their precious feet tread.
Bringing refresh of light,
With every laugh.
I gaze at the sand,
With remnant proof that
Children of light walked here.
When I am still,
The Wind brings me
Whisper of their joy.
Giggling brooks,
Shining stars,
Vibrant flowers of the field,
Cannot compare
To the sweet music
Of Child's contagious laughter,
And the light God gave them,
Shining clear through their eyes of bright.
Sep 3, 2020
Sep 3, 2020 at 3:41 PM UTC
As I drive along the ocean side,
I think of how it used to be,
Of just you and me.
Life seemed much simpler than,
The sky was blue, and not a cloud in the sky,
Along the ocean side.
But now the blue skies have turned gray,
And the clouds above, are pouring rain.
Things are changed, by the ocean side.
When will the sun come back?
When will the rain stop?
When will you be here again?
With me, along the ocean side.
Jun 2, 2015
Jun 2, 2015 at 10:03 AM UTC
There are days when the rage I prayed to dissipate somehow finds its way from the deep secluded corners of my brain and throws itself violently onto the blank pages of my notebook.
It's always on those days when I hear the Oceanside call my name but I refrain from seeing her because I am far too occupied with chipping myself away at this deadend job that doesn't provide the way that I need it to pay.
It's always on the days when I can't reach her shore that I ***** myself to this imitation of peace. To all the things I want but know it will never satisfy the need to feel that cool ocean breeze, the smell of seaweed and that saltwater against my feet.
There is no place in the valley for a boy who fell in love with the ocean and left his heart at sea.
Like can't you see that the only time I feel whole is when all the broken pieces that make up me is standing on that cliffside. Apart from filling out my blank pages and pouring my heart out onto these stages, that cliffside will always be home.
There is not a day that I'm away that I don't sit and think about the power of the waves. Do you ever think about the power of the waves? How they come in, crash and carry all of my burdens, pain and frustration away. God I just want to get away.
I will always sit up on that cliffside in a mystery as I gaze out upon your vast deep blue see and wonder how in the midst of my chaos, that you are somehow my peace.
Feb 9, 2015
Feb 9, 2015 at 2:10 PM UTC
Crumbling concrete screens at the old drive-in
reminiscent of an era bygone.
Progress is our god
we've no time for nostalgia.
California moves too quickly for sentiment;
what's past is past, and is no more.
Jun 18, 2014
Jun 18, 2014 at 2:35 AM UTC