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#undertow
Heated pulse against enchanted lips, yet the moment slips its hold on me. I can’t resist the will of him— but my heart begs to slow it down. Save me from the hell I’m entering. Touches turn into a stale corpse, marks me with tarnished brands. Choking spirit silently leaving— drifting aimlessly in the undertow. Something dies within me. Panic enters my breath, with nowhere to escape, so I disappear with the darkness, hoping for anything to make it stop. Tears in eyes— was that what you needed? Stealing pieces of me, as if collecting heartaches, savoring each heartbeat like torn pages— read and thrown into the fire.
0
Apr 18
Apr 18, 2026 at 5:21 PM UTC
Torn pages
--- SURFACE Yeah… I’ve just been floating past the break, watching the sets roll in, roll out. Sun on my shoulders. Salt on my lips. No rush. Ocean does what it does. Some waves look good from far out— clean rise, smooth face, perfect line— then they just soften… like they changed their mind halfway in. No big deal. You wait. You watch the horizon. You let the water tell you what’s real. --- UNDERTOW I have been stationed at the threshold of recurrence, where motion rehearses itself without becoming destiny. Each swelling crest arrives shaped like prophecy, then dissolves into unfinished intention. Time here is circular architecture— expectation poured into forms that never set. I measure patterns the way astronomers chart dying stars: not for beauty… but for inevitability. Patience is not serenity. It is suspended impact. It is gravity holding its breath. --- SURFACE People drift through the lineup sometimes. New boards. Familiar faces. Everybody reading the water their own way. Sometimes someone paddles where you thought your wave was forming. Sometimes the wind messes up the face. Sometimes the swell just… backs off. That’s the ocean. You don’t take it personal. You just stay loose and keep floating. --- UNDERTOW But disruption is not random when it repeats. Interference becomes structure when it learns your rhythm. I have watched possibility approach me wearing different masks, yet always withdrawing at the same invisible boundary. This is not chaos. This is choreography I was never taught— a geometry of almost, a theology of deferred arrival. Even absence can develop muscle memory. --- SURFACE Legs getting a little tired though. Water’s colder the longer you stay out. Funny how waiting can feel peaceful… until it just feels like drifting. There’s other breaks downshore. Different currents. Different sandbars. Waves that actually stand up when they rise. You don’t gotta stay in one spot forever. --- UNDERTOW There comes a moment when endurance becomes consent. When remaining is indistinguishable from surrender. When the body recognizes what the mind keeps renegotiating: Potential is not presence. Motion is not arrival. Hope is not structure. I was not designed to orbit unfinished gravity. --- SURFACE So yeah… if the wave comes, cool. I’ll ride it clean, no hesitation. But if it doesn’t— I can always turn my board toward shore, walk the sand, paddle out somewhere new. Ocean’s big like that. --- UNDERTOW I release the vigil without declaring defeat. I withdraw attention from the architecture of maybe. I choose momentum over suspension, direction over recurrence, depth that moves over depth that circles itself. If something meant for me rises— it will not require my stillness to exist. --- TOGETHER The water is wide. The horizon is honest. And I am both the one who waits… and the one who decides when waiting ends.
0
Feb 23
Feb 23, 2026 at 9:26 AM UTC
Surface / Undertow
--- SURFACE Yeah… I’ve just been floating past the break, watching the sets roll in, roll out. Sun on my shoulders. Salt on my lips. No rush. Ocean does what it does. Some waves look good from far out— clean rise, smooth face, perfect line— then they just soften… like they changed their mind halfway in. No big deal. You wait. You watch the horizon. You let the water tell you what’s real. --- UNDERTOW I have been stationed at the threshold of recurrence, where motion rehearses itself without becoming destiny. Each swelling crest arrives shaped like prophecy, then dissolves into unfinished intention. Time here is circular architecture— expectation poured into forms that never set. I measure patterns the way astronomers chart dying stars: not for beauty… but for inevitability. Patience is not serenity. It is suspended impact. It is gravity holding its breath. --- SURFACE People drift through the lineup sometimes. New boards. Familiar faces. Everybody reading the water their own way. Sometimes someone paddles where you thought your wave was forming. Sometimes the wind messes up the face. Sometimes the swell just… backs off. That’s the ocean. You don’t take it personal. You just stay loose and keep floating. --- UNDERTOW But disruption is not random when it repeats. Interference becomes structure when it learns your rhythm. I have watched possibility approach me wearing different masks, yet always withdrawing at the same invisible boundary. This is not chaos. This is choreography I was never taught— a geometry of almost, a theology of deferred arrival. Even absence can develop muscle memory. --- SURFACE Legs getting a little tired though. Water’s colder the longer you stay out. Funny how waiting can feel peaceful… until it just feels like drifting. There’s other breaks downshore. Different currents. Different sandbars. Waves that actually stand up when they rise. You don’t gotta stay in one spot forever. --- UNDERTOW There comes a moment when endurance becomes consent. When remaining is indistinguishable from surrender. When the body recognizes what the mind keeps renegotiating: Potential is not presence. Motion is not arrival. Hope is not structure. I was not designed to orbit unfinished gravity. --- SURFACE So yeah… if the wave comes, cool. I’ll ride it clean, no hesitation. But if it doesn’t— I can always turn my board toward shore, walk the sand, paddle out somewhere new. Ocean’s big like that. --- UNDERTOW I release the vigil without declaring defeat. I withdraw attention from the architecture of maybe. I choose momentum over suspension, direction over recurrence, depth that moves over depth that circles itself. If something meant for me rises— it will not require my stillness to exist. --- TOGETHER The water is wide. The horizon is honest. And I am both the one who waits… and the one who decides when waiting ends.
Continue reading...
93
It's shallow here, with an undertow, I'm falling -- The buoy starts spinning.
0
Aug 8, 2024
Aug 8, 2024 at 2:02 AM UTC
[ It's shallow here, with ]
The soul is full of criteria, mysteries And your eyes, Your eyes are undertow, Drawning me in.
0
Nov 20, 2020
Nov 20, 2020 at 9:22 PM UTC
Undertow
It’s astrology. Read the stars in my eyes Hand me the key And I’ll chain my own wrists Slipping in and out Of our own lives Like shadows. I can’t breathe underwater. In the darkness I reflect the sky In the midst of this war I’m sacrificial It’s written on my face And the palms of my hands My fortune The belief I will save you My eyes are tired But you can see me Dreaming your dreams, Drifting in the undertow. Everything has changed. I’ll drown under these grey skies A kiss of life Under the weight of the world
0
May 29, 2020
May 29, 2020 at 5:28 PM UTC
Astrology
Poetic minds are islands often found In common reaches of the status quo And in remote and deeper waters Of vox humana in muted undertow.
0
Jun 17, 2017
Jun 17, 2017 at 11:57 AM UTC
Vox Humana Islands
While the heavens wept I gasped for air beneath the Waters where I lay
0
Oct 23, 2016
Oct 23, 2016 at 11:29 PM UTC
Undertow (Haiku #24)
i’d like to be out in the sea i’d be on a wave jumping over top waiting for the crash avoiding the undertow i’d doing like i did as a kid i’d soak up the sun and play in the sand just enjoying the ocean breeze and the ocean view
0
May 21, 2015
May 21, 2015 at 10:18 PM UTC
emerald
it's strange to see a river spring into being violently churning but without sound to see sticks and even trees swept away down its length but not feel its current's tugging pull you wonder whether the river is real or nothing but an imagined torrent but the waves lapping at your feet cannot lie
0
Apr 5, 2015
Apr 5, 2015 at 4:54 PM UTC
invisible undertow
First the sun Warm and gold Then the wind Swift and bold Of all that I know Little I remember; little I behold Fearing it is my last... I gasp for breath. A scent like no other Fills my emptied soul Memories flood into me Like a perilous undertow A wave catches me And carries my soul I am full again. Wonder pulsates through my veins Living is no longer in vain Blood warms my extremities Chasing fond memories Once again, I begin For the moment, I am I see... I breathe... I believe. For the moment, no end To stop me No fear to paralyze No wounds to hide A moment of peaceful bliss All tears subside I will let this wave carry me. I don't fight the current I let it take me where it wants Not out of bravery But from my addiction To wonder... and clarity
0
Oct 26, 2014
Oct 26, 2014 at 11:42 AM UTC
Let This Wave Carry Me
If I met you 20 years ago I would not even lay my eyes on you But I could Picture the younger you with me Easily I frown on Your 80's acid shirt, Kenny G hair But I can still trace the image of you between your brows Unswerving eyes and lips If I met you 20 years ago You would had fallen for me I am so sure, because your eyes tell me
0
Jun 14, 2014
Jun 14, 2014 at 11:00 AM UTC
1986 Undertow