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#voyage
Seas can be carrying tides of rocks and pebbles, may seem insignificant yet is like the Muslim that doesn’t have to understand where the destination is yet through Allahs mercy, can safely and surely at the sea shore. Boats can be the modest spears that fight against the strong currents of the ocean, Salty water can be like preferences some prefer salt some don’t so don’t over step boundaries this can be less sinful, Salt falling into meals can be like a water droplet falling on the hand from a leaf such can be the way Allah puts blessings onto the hand.
0
21h ago
Jun 3, 2026 at 12:29 PM UTC
Boats that can be the core of a voyage
what brought you here was it an ill wind a raging storm a fair wind beautiful day I crossed over the sea in January my birth month the sea was indeed raging the wind blowing through my hair waves reaching the gunnels my heart full of freedom a poem in my memory long goodbye to all my yesterdays.
0
Mar 3
Mar 3, 2026 at 10:05 AM UTC
long goodbye to all my yesterdays
One day Someone decides they want a boat, and they plan and begin to build us. Eventually we arrive, all shiny and new, there is champagne celebrating, much happiness, big dreams of traveling oceans, doing and going to places where none have been. We spend much effort launching the sailboat, dragging it to the docks, much like being dragged to school. This is where we learn to navigate, where we find all the features and functions, how things work. We start off with the easy stuff—getting on board, but eventually it’s cleaning the deck, trimming the sails, using a compass. Much time is spent in the harbor, in safety, in preparation for the day when we must set sail to uncharted waters. They tell you how rough it can get, but we often overlook these words, or they have so much faith in their ability as boat builders they simply say: “You can overcome any storm, no matter what comes your way,” failing to teach the precautions needed for that day when you put on your captain’s hat, pull down your sails, trim them, and leave. Prepared or not, one thing is certain: what awaits outside the quiet, safe waters is nothing you could have imagined. It is different for everyone. Yet we head out with great expectations, on the calmest of days, sun shining on the water, the bow of the boat cracking seamlessly through calm seas, like this is how it’s always going to be. The first few waves are fun. We pull faces, surprised at the unexpected, thinking, okay, I’ve got this. We are shiny boats, nothing will stop us, sailing under the guidance of all we learned growing up. Some boats get little or no guidance, and you learn along the way. Others never leave the port because you are still overloaded with cautionary information, fear instilled rather than adventure. Sometimes we are lucky: we sail along, visiting destinations without any major event, especially if towed behind the hand of a wealthy parent’s ship. But most times, we will always, without doubt, reach rough waters and foul weather. It’s never just clean sailing. Here is where everything we learned along the way, combined with the boating manual written and passed to us in the harbor, comes in handy. Because no matter how well prepared, at some point you will put on your raincoat and get wet. Friends are like crew members. The more friends you have, usually the easier the sailing, unless they’re there just for a free ride, not willing to pitch in when the storm gets rough. Those are the ones lounging on deck with cocktails, smiling and laughing, but when the sun hides and the sea rocks your boat, they are the first below deck, or worse, they abandon ship. As you sail through life, you soon learn who is who in the zoo. You know you have a friend for life when waves crash along the deck, six feet high, and someone is by your side with a bucket and flip-flops, bailing water, shouting, “Are you ******* kidding me?” As waves pummel your little boat for hours, and when the storm passes, they are there—tired, wet, happier than you to see the sunrise. We go through our boats, assessing what was lost, wrecked in each storm. Sometimes you lose things of great importance: a compass, navigation, people. It’s easy to give up, unless you remind yourself sailors before you used the stars, and things are never as bad as you think. And you might just get where you are going by dumb luck, I guess, and having a friend makes it all that much easier. If the storm washes someone overboard, and they are lost to the ocean, look for them and have patience; it doesn’t mean we should stop sailing or turn the boat in circles forever. Sometimes the ocean takes stuff, and unless you can still see the life raft, you are expected to keep sailing on course. Sadly, as time passes, like age, we don’t always reach where we ultimately planned. Sometimes we arrive at places unknown even to the map, other times stuck in doldrums, without a breeze to push us through. This is when you need that ride-or-die friend, because nothing is worse than floating in the middle of the ocean alone, without wind to fill your sail, alone without anyone to talk **** to and pass the time. If you were taught to catch fish, fortunate enough to have a rod, you shouldn’t go hungry. If you planned your journey, enough provisions should last. But sometimes life doesn’t work like that. You find yourself surrounded by water, not a drop to drink. It’s then we persevere, hope for the rain, because this is how it goes. The rain you curse today might be the same rain that saves your life. What we cannot prevent is our little boats becoming weathered: barnacles, lifting varnish. Like our bodies, we only get one boat. Keep it clean, repair it along the way. Don’t wait until the mast has fallen, paint chipped, windows layered with grime, before grabbing a mop and bucket—because who wants to sail on a ***** boat? If lucky, you meet someone willing to share the tasks, help carry each other’s load. If fortunate, you hire help, or do it yourself. But remember: no one wants to clean your shit-covered lavatory. Your **** your responsibility. Leaving it for someone else will likely leave you old and alone and smelling your *** If you neglect upkeep, sailing becomes heavy, uncomfortable, dangerous. No matter how well you care for your boat, time will age it. How you treated it before determines how long it lasts in trying times. Sometimes we sail to an island, find safety and shelter, never leave. Sometimes we stay briefly, then move on, grabbing a few coconuts along the way. There’s a thin line between settling and never appreciating what you find, constant discontent chasing every sunset, never truly savoring the sky and beaches. The truth: no boat sails forever. Finding a safe place, a harbor, where storms feel distant, where friends with buckets and flip-flops sit beside you, maybe a dinghy or two of your own— this is the goal. Any boat that sails will eventually sink. And that might only matter if you can swim, if you get rescued by a passing boat, or aren’t eaten by sharks. Remember the first rule of sailing: there are always sharks. And when you sink, can’t swim, you will need people to help rescue you, or you will either drown, get eaten, or end up stranded alone on some island you never intended or just floating until you drown. When you find your island and harbor, moor your boat, have fun with the people who stayed true; the journey is the adventure, but happiness is the destination.
0
Feb 7
Feb 7, 2026 at 8:47 AM UTC
People Are Sailing Boats
One day Someone decides they want a boat, and they plan and begin to build us. Eventually we arrive, all shiny and new, there is champagne celebrating, much happiness, big dreams of traveling oceans, doing and going to places where none have been. We spend much effort launching the sailboat, dragging it to the docks, much like being dragged to school. This is where we learn to navigate, where we find all the features and functions, how things work. We start off with the easy stuff—getting on board, but eventually it’s cleaning the deck, trimming the sails, using a compass. Much time is spent in the harbor, in safety, in preparation for the day when we must set sail to uncharted waters. They tell you how rough it can get, but we often overlook these words, or they have so much faith in their ability as boat builders they simply say: “You can overcome any storm, no matter what comes your way,” failing to teach the precautions needed for that day when you put on your captain’s hat, pull down your sails, trim them, and leave. Prepared or not, one thing is certain: what awaits outside the quiet, safe waters is nothing you could have imagined. It is different for everyone. Yet we head out with great expectations, on the calmest of days, sun shining on the water, the bow of the boat cracking seamlessly through calm seas, like this is how it’s always going to be. The first few waves are fun. We pull faces, surprised at the unexpected, thinking, okay, I’ve got this. We are shiny boats, nothing will stop us, sailing under the guidance of all we learned growing up. Some boats get little or no guidance, and you learn along the way. Others never leave the port because you are still overloaded with cautionary information, fear instilled rather than adventure. Sometimes we are lucky: we sail along, visiting destinations without any major event, especially if towed behind the hand of a wealthy parent’s ship. But most times, we will always, without doubt, reach rough waters and foul weather. It’s never just clean sailing. Here is where everything we learned along the way, combined with the boating manual written and passed to us in the harbor, comes in handy. Because no matter how well prepared, at some point you will put on your raincoat and get wet. Friends are like crew members. The more friends you have, usually the easier the sailing, unless they’re there just for a free ride, not willing to pitch in when the storm gets rough. Those are the ones lounging on deck with cocktails, smiling and laughing, but when the sun hides and the sea rocks your boat, they are the first below deck, or worse, they abandon ship. As you sail through life, you soon learn who is who in the zoo. You know you have a friend for life when waves crash along the deck, six feet high, and someone is by your side with a bucket and flip-flops, bailing water, shouting, “Are you ******* kidding me?” As waves pummel your little boat for hours, and when the storm passes, they are there—tired, wet, happier than you to see the sunrise. We go through our boats, assessing what was lost, wrecked in each storm. Sometimes you lose things of great importance: a compass, navigation, people. It’s easy to give up, unless you remind yourself sailors before you used the stars, and things are never as bad as you think. And you might just get where you are going by dumb luck, I guess, and having a friend makes it all that much easier. If the storm washes someone overboard, and they are lost to the ocean, look for them and have patience; it doesn’t mean we should stop sailing or turn the boat in circles forever. Sometimes the ocean takes stuff, and unless you can still see the life raft, you are expected to keep sailing on course. Sadly, as time passes, like age, we don’t always reach where we ultimately planned. Sometimes we arrive at places unknown even to the map, other times stuck in doldrums, without a breeze to push us through. This is when you need that ride-or-die friend, because nothing is worse than floating in the middle of the ocean alone, without wind to fill your sail, alone without anyone to talk **** to and pass the time. If you were taught to catch fish, fortunate enough to have a rod, you shouldn’t go hungry. If you planned your journey, enough provisions should last. But sometimes life doesn’t work like that. You find yourself surrounded by water, not a drop to drink. It’s then we persevere, hope for the rain, because this is how it goes. The rain you curse today might be the same rain that saves your life. What we cannot prevent is our little boats becoming weathered: barnacles, lifting varnish. Like our bodies, we only get one boat. Keep it clean, repair it along the way. Don’t wait until the mast has fallen, paint chipped, windows layered with grime, before grabbing a mop and bucket—because who wants to sail on a ***** boat? If lucky, you meet someone willing to share the tasks, help carry each other’s load. If fortunate, you hire help, or do it yourself. But remember: no one wants to clean your shit-covered lavatory. Your **** your responsibility. Leaving it for someone else will likely leave you old and alone and smelling your *** If you neglect upkeep, sailing becomes heavy, uncomfortable, dangerous. No matter how well you care for your boat, time will age it. How you treated it before determines how long it lasts in trying times. Sometimes we sail to an island, find safety and shelter, never leave. Sometimes we stay briefly, then move on, grabbing a few coconuts along the way. There’s a thin line between settling and never appreciating what you find, constant discontent chasing every sunset, never truly savoring the sky and beaches. The truth: no boat sails forever. Finding a safe place, a harbor, where storms feel distant, where friends with buckets and flip-flops sit beside you, maybe a dinghy or two of your own— this is the goal. Any boat that sails will eventually sink. And that might only matter if you can swim, if you get rescued by a passing boat, or aren’t eaten by sharks. Remember the first rule of sailing: there are always sharks. And when you sink, can’t swim, you will need people to help rescue you, or you will either drown, get eaten, or end up stranded alone on some island you never intended or just floating until you drown. When you find your island and harbor, moor your boat, have fun with the people who stayed true; the journey is the adventure, but happiness is the destination.
Continue reading...
170
Retour ? Brume ? Calme. Retour, bruit, rassurant.
0
Dec 18, 2025
Dec 18, 2025 at 3:56 AM UTC
Retour
Pourquoi ? Bonheur supposé, Pourquoi ? En partant voyager, Pourquoi ? L'humeur sombre, Pourquoi ? Ne voir que des décombres. Peut-être trop, Peut-être beaucoup. Bientôt : le ciel bleu.
0
Dec 18, 2025
Dec 18, 2025 at 3:53 AM UTC
Des parts sombres
The wind blows. Tracking, violating, a little train on its way to the E island for the ninety-fourth time this day in this infinitesimal airport, this enormous node converged of weaves of space, meaning collided. A young woman gazing somewhere not special, until my sight aligned with hers: rail unravels its skeleton as the train forwards only as bitten by the steal heaviness, that guises dumb voyagers, a heavy lightness inside. Tapped by sound, a haphazard feeling of mind, I percept couples prattling in native English from scattering finches called home Drifting away or reflowing towards, adjacency suspends in lenses of all. Afraid to envision the scent of seeds unplanted, to dwell on questions without an answer, to defy gravity, I know you are too. The wind blows. Departing with my hue of strength found in all that I lacked, a sprawl of bouncing breeze leaves my tune beneath the rail.
0
Sep 25, 2025
Sep 25, 2025 at 1:51 PM UTC
A thousand blown dandelions
Your songs sweeten this bitter passing Rudder me through to calmer waters. Your words secure my departing Restore my shredded sails For this last crossing. But first let me stay a story longer, Tell me a tale from our voyages together: Of past storms soothed, Of old foes bested. And so ready me to weather this course To its end.
0
May 22, 2025
May 22, 2025 at 5:13 PM UTC
Last Crossing
"Existence is an ocean." The body is a vessel, this life is a sea. God brings the winds that fill its sails, But it's captain is only me. Other ships may come and fire against us My crew may plot a mutiny, If succeed they do, and if I lose My ship goes down with me. No one else will tell me how, Or why, or what, or when. Till the sea swallows us up, And it's waters birth us anew. Till I say good bye, the final time, And sail those seas again.
0
Feb 10, 2025
Feb 10, 2025 at 10:44 PM UTC
The voyage
wrestlemania traveled cross country, wrestling with extended celebration and an unexpected death; the body maladjusts, only to be disrupted when time zones reset, hard a-heels upon return, packing up again for a sacred pilgrimage to a summer place of sheltering, where poems grow and dangle like participles from local fruit farms, one need only pluck and taste, attach your moniker and then feed them to the joggers & walkers running past send them all on their voyages, hopefully protected from travel disorientation and the cycle of rebirth with luck, bits and pieces of me will accompany said word whispers, them shreds and shards requiring healing, or just pruning,   exiting old words, fresh fruit berries, roadside acquisitions  to b carry me stained & strained & happy new travels o‘er this fruited plain
0
Jan 20, 2024
Jan 20, 2024 at 2:56 PM UTC
wrestlemania (a voyage, a trip, an unexpected death)
When I met you, it felt like a dream come true, Finally met the coffee that’s my kind of brew, The type of someone who’s my style, In tea, you’re my chamomile. Entering your ship was the best, I can feel my heart finally at rest, Watching the sea looked serene and still, See with you, that’s how my soul feels. The waves became unpredictable, Accurate leeward was impossible, Some parts of you were locked in the fo’c’sle, Hence, I must learn how to drive this vessel. Captain, without you the ship isn’t stable, You’re safe inside while me outside, struggle, You have your priorities, I don’t want to interfere, But hope you’ll be with me ‘til the storm clears. Maybe it’s not safe being with you, Entering your ship wasn’t the right thing to do, My decision is still clouded with fear, Should I just jump or stay with you here?
0
Nov 19, 2023
Nov 19, 2023 at 12:05 PM UTC
Voyage
Sometimes The path we step Might be narrow Yet set Our minds Free That worth the ride Basically the soles Of the shoes know Where we’ve been Look at them For future references
0
Jan 19, 2023
Jan 19, 2023 at 11:29 AM UTC
Voyage
Sometimes the journey feels too long, too hard or too risky, but in our toughest moments we find impossible, incredible and unimaginable strength! Trust that you will make it through! Always remember that light can only shine its brightest in the darkest of nights. Storms are temporary but strength can last forever 🤍.
0
Sep 20, 2022
Sep 20, 2022 at 11:11 PM UTC
Voyage
Accomplishment Milestones Completion...of a step What does it mean to be done Is there such a thing? Sometimes the moment of doneness passes by                  Invisible Revealed only in hindsight Savor the moments Of completion Accomplishment Being done Even if only of this step The best laid plans can always go awry So celebrate along the way Celebrate the effort The intention The support you receive Doneness as you expected may never come to pass If it does You will more concretely see                                                     all the steps it took to get there Either way We all benefit From celebrating milestones All the steps along the way Whether that means dreaming an idea Or completing a voyage Across a sea Intact
0
Sep 1, 2021
Sep 1, 2021 at 8:24 PM UTC
Steps along the way
"LEANING ON YOUR SHOULDER." I don't mind how many times I'm going to bid you goodnight tonight. But no matter how many time, I'd still keep saying it, telling you goodnight. Because you'll always have a good night. Darky starry night leaning on her shoulder, singing sweet songs through the back of thee ear along with the bird night. Lullaby for a princess. It's me and you tonight locked in affection, exodus (departure) is evil, wish it's a lifetime Pathos. In mine heart I hold you close. Thy love grew a shield-tree upon the surface of mine heart, under which I abide and its fruit indemnity and gratify me. Sometimes I wonder how beauty heaven is having bestowed His angel unto the earth and that angel I have found, and is you my girl. #C9_fm
0
May 16, 2021
May 16, 2021 at 5:03 PM UTC
"LEANING ON THY SHOULDER."
Existence is an ocean." The body is a vessel, this life is a sea. God brings the winds that fill its sails, But it's captain is only me. Other ships may come and fire against us My crew may plot a mutiny, If succeed they do, and if I lose My ship goes down with me. No one else will tell me how, Or why, or what, or when. Till the sea swallows us up, And it's waters birth us anew. Till I say good bye, the final time, And sail those seas again.
0
May 3, 2021
May 3, 2021 at 6:51 AM UTC
The Voyage
Your solitude; Is about the only souvenir I can claim, From our one way voyage.
0
Dec 2, 2020
Dec 2, 2020 at 4:45 AM UTC
Cruise
I took a walk through the trees to find myself in the forest. I left myself there and continued on with my voyage. I came to a meadow just as lost as I had started. I meant myself there but forgot as I Departed. I knew I could find myself high up on the hill. I stood upon the cliff but realized that I had fell. I took a stroll on down deep in to the valley. I descended to the river to find myself there drowning. I had no strength to pull myself from the trouble of the Stream. I floated on further out toward the deep blue sea. I camped through the night saw myself within a dream. I awoke in the morning alone with out me. I came to the understanding that I was just myself. We boarded the boat and sail on out on through the swells.
0
Oct 31, 2020
Oct 31, 2020 at 11:24 PM UTC
I
The ship's rocking on a blue sea, It's one, two, three starts, They're shining bright, Just for me, The wind, delighted by my vessel, dances, Its hands, tightly around the simple maid, She turned into a princess and left me, Or, I left her, As I swam underneath my ship, I said,"Bon Voyage," And, at the top of my lungs, I sang. They both left, Now they live with the starts, I see them, One, Two, Three, There, Bright as daylight.
0
Oct 15, 2020
Oct 15, 2020 at 3:08 PM UTC
Bon Voyage
i would have agreed to ernest hemingway when he said that one should never go on trips with anyone one does not love, but i said otherwise starting that moment i met you. if you do not love me at the time that we've decided to go on a trip together, then lay on your back, watch me drive and drive you crazy. i'd be your chauffeur, since i am a professional driver i'd keep in mind how safe you should be with me, through the longest ride of your life i'd try hard enough to bring you delight as i fold down the roof of our cabriolet. the cold breezy wind would hit your smooth face, thus windy it would make your hair sway along with it. i'll let you feel macrocosm and hope that you'd know that my love for you is nature-like, we'd grow, then find peace with each other and if destructions hit us, we will heal afterwards we'd find our way back to each other's arm. i am the one to maneuver the ship we'll use on our sojourn in this fantasy, with high hopes that someday we'd have our longest voyage but we are together evermore. i'd like to be your high-grade licensed mariner until our ship ends sail; but as we embark on this new journey, pardon me for i will wish upon all the heavenly bodies above us. i'd whisper to them if that's what i have to do just to make you love me. i am not certain if you'd swing your body along with the wave of the open sea, so i as your captain, i'd move you back and forth, to oscillate you like a pendulum enjoying the moment. and so, i'll dance with you until my sea-like love for you, be reciprocated with your ocean-like one. but if us will never happen, tell me. on our way, i am fully aware that we will encounter an iceberg that may cause our ship to sink, or a limestone rock that would cause us to trip–make us stumble and fall on our knees. when our trip ends, that is the time we can say if you love me or you still don't. for a moment, i'll kiss you passionately if you would let me. and i'll drive you back home, so you could finally rest after our tiresome travel. maybe, it came too foolish to travel with someone you don't love, but isn't it where all of it starts? isn't there this need to explore just to find out? if you change your mind, call me. when you find out that you already love me, hit me up. we'll fuel this love, until our end and until the day all the machines be disconnected from our bodies. because my love for you is endless, and my heart hopes that this journey of lifetime would make you love me as well.
0
Jul 12, 2020
Jul 12, 2020 at 10:50 AM UTC
"never go on trips with anyone you do not love" — ernest hemingway
i would have agreed to ernest hemingway when he said that one should never go on trips with anyone one does not love, but i said otherwise starting that moment i met you. if you do not love me at the time that we've decided to go on a trip together, then lay on your back, watch me drive and drive you crazy. i'd be your chauffeur, since i am a professional driver i'd keep in mind how safe you should be with me, through the longest ride of your life i'd try hard enough to bring you delight as i fold down the roof of our cabriolet. the cold breezy wind would hit your smooth face, thus windy it would make your hair sway along with it. i'll let you feel macrocosm and hope that you'd know that my love for you is nature-like, we'd grow, then find peace with each other and if destructions hit us, we will heal afterwards we'd find our way back to each other's arm. i am the one to maneuver the ship we'll use on our sojourn in this fantasy, with high hopes that someday we'd have our longest voyage but we are together evermore. i'd like to be your high-grade licensed mariner until our ship ends sail; but as we embark on this new journey, pardon me for i will wish upon all the heavenly bodies above us. i'd whisper to them if that's what i have to do just to make you love me. i am not certain if you'd swing your body along with the wave of the open sea, so i as your captain, i'd move you back and forth, to oscillate you like a pendulum enjoying the moment. and so, i'll dance with you until my sea-like love for you, be reciprocated with your ocean-like one. but if us will never happen, tell me. on our way, i am fully aware that we will encounter an iceberg that may cause our ship to sink, or a limestone rock that would cause us to trip–make us stumble and fall on our knees. when our trip ends, that is the time we can say if you love me or you still don't. for a moment, i'll kiss you passionately if you would let me. and i'll drive you back home, so you could finally rest after our tiresome travel. maybe, it came too foolish to travel with someone you don't love, but isn't it where all of it starts? isn't there this need to explore just to find out? if you change your mind, call me. when you find out that you already love me, hit me up. we'll fuel this love, until our end and until the day all the machines be disconnected from our bodies. because my love for you is endless, and my heart hopes that this journey of lifetime would make you love me as well.
Continue reading...
3
we came from space to space we shall return to join the void and the stars that burn our endless lust for wand'ring the unknown our utmost joy when (safe and sound) we're home our sense of wonder taking baby steps our first endeavours in this world and the next from space we came to space shall we return to cross the void and watch new stars get born
0
Apr 12, 2020
Apr 12, 2020 at 4:06 PM UTC
we came from space // to space we shall return
the whole intention of life is to get through it there is no instruction manual there is no easy way to explain it to someone you are conceived and you die your journey is not predetermined your voyage can be altered your trip around the sun is your own unique ordeal put your seat belt on and enjoy the ride...! Brian Hill - 2020 # 52
0
Feb 21, 2020
Feb 21, 2020 at 10:19 AM UTC
The Ride
Of course, masterpieces of the mind, require sensationalism Returning to the womb to re-visit the beginning This journey is one extraordinarily odd voyage Can it be achieved Brian Hill - 2020 # 33
0
Feb 2, 2020
Feb 2, 2020 at 9:54 AM UTC
Voyage
I sail to a world Created by my dreams and paint the waves with images of dolphins in the sea I sail upon those seas, those wrapped in cotton and dreams, and seek the voyage to the Bermuda Triangle, to Atlantis, to the seas. I sail in my ship, Mighty and grey, Find it decaying and sinking away, Find the seas becoming charcoal, find the skies melting away, Find my innocence ripped from my hands I sail no more, simply sulk behind a desk, find my childhood tucked away, Find my ship sunken, Find my dreamland fading away.
0
Nov 25, 2019
Nov 25, 2019 at 3:05 AM UTC
Dreamland