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Lizzy Feb 2014
They say we have these anchors
They drown us out at sea
But this chain bound tight to my ankle
Is not fastened to a weight.

It just keeps going
Link by link
It has no end
No beginning

I was born into this aquatic life
From my earliest days
I was held underwater
And each day on has added to my chain

Not like the chain of Jacob Marley
In Dickens' tale,
Not forged by greed
But birthed from every thought
That I cannot forget
And every blow to my persistance
I have ever recieved

It all stays with me
And we each have these chains.
But most grow gills
And sprout fins.
And learn to swim .

But here I am.
Still drowning.
On split finger webbing,
blistered metatarsal pads,
catlike: left left, right right.
You're just over there?
You call this chasm just?
On split, sore patella,
charred hands,
the head hanged loosely,
as dead: left left, right right.
My head down, eyes up, right?
Compensation has been tendered
for the services rendered, right?

For Gibs
zebra Jun 2017
she loved thunder storms most of all
the crackle of white hot bolts ripping through the sky
the shear immensity of power
she always thought it was him
her beloved God
big boy
with his flowing blond hair
blue aquatic eyes
washboard stomach
and delicately curved *****
finally a man good enough for her
even if he was fly by night

when the heavens thickened gray
like soggy cotton
she could feel atmospheres shift
it made her ******* pert
her mouth would salivate
like a lurid peach
her ***** swelled and dampened
tears of adoration and enchantment
filled her eyes

no longer able to contain her self
she would ***** *****
fling off her *******
and run out to the lush verdant meadows
calling at the top of her lungs
yoooooooooo hooooooooooo

as the cool rain descended
she ran thrilled to the mud between her toes
seeing great claws of white lightening  echo
through the sky

without hesitation
she fell to the cool earth beneath her
wallowing in the delicious sloshing ooze
positioning her self on all fours
head thrown back
*** up high
calling to the heavens
come on, come on big boy
ive been waiting for you
let me have it good
her clitoral lips
drooled with anticipation
her ******
a pulsating aching

the sky rumbled
with stretching streaks of fire
like a great freight train
spanning infinity
while the earth shook like a
hollow moon
she swayed her hips
rhythmically to and fro
whispering a love song

oh sir
i need a man like you
wont you love me
adorations true

i kneel before
my sweet Lord Thor
where's that hammer
come on and score

you are so big
and im so little
how about it God
just a tickle

hit it now
give it to me good
kisses baby
like you only could

tears of desire cascaded
down her pink cheeks
as she recited her love mantra
her mouth ***** wet

a great bolt of lightening
shot down from heavens throne
entering her ******
splitting her in flames
her head turned dark mahogany
sent careening fifty yards
leaving her mouth
a yawning twisted smudge
of fossilized obsidian
with eyes
blackened flaring hollows

her tender pink ****
a chard flower
like a
Shreya Dristi Nov 2015
Folds of water
Layers of dirt
Bubbling foam
This vast body which
Wraps itself around the Earth

Schools of life
Clumps of Color
This is where it thrives
The souls of creatures
A huge potpourri of lives

The might of the ocean
The strength of the Sea
No one can match
No one could hardly believe
it's ability
To devour kingdoms
Engulf islands and make them its own
Drag them down
Yank them by their legs, shatter their bones
Drag them down
Til they ultimately can descend no more
are left without a morsel of hope

I can almost hear the primordial sea deity bellow
With a voice so deep
It shocks and explores
A voice which shakes your soul
A voice which could cause disaster and tremors
An immense
Deep bass tone.
It would strike more than just a powerful chord
“Come back to me”
“Return to your mother’s ****, down here, down low”
“You belong to me, my right, my property!”
“Return to the world below.”
“Come back home.”

Under the Sea
What's deep beneath?
The iridescent water
The clouds of foam
Conquered by monsters?
Down there,
Do sirens roam?
We aren't aware
We do not know

Enigmatic waves
Rows of fossils
Caked in dirt
A haven for aquatic raves
A museum holding remnants
telling the story of the Mother Earth

This is the Sea
Take a swim sometime and feel its rhythm
Listen to its story
Feel the history

Flow with the sea’s entrancing beat
I have faith and I believe
That the sea is a world of its own
Accentuated sometimes by its powerful voice or melodious hum
No less mighty than the world above.
A wet world which is beautiful
- Untouched -
A world which should remain pure, serene
- Untouched -

My take on the ocean. I have an uncanny connection with the Sea.
I feel it is the epitome of strength. I just love it. I don't know how something so huge and vast can be so personal to me. Ironic.
spysgrandson Aug 2018
drought dry only a fortnight, and no trace
of the swimmers--not a bloated bass or a skeletal carp
only a few lily pads burnt russet by the sun

all else, perverse interlopers from modernity:  
bullet banged beer cans, truck tires,  
and the ubiquitous bottle water plastic
waiting patiently for the next ice age

no sign of one fish that emitted a last gilled gasp here

deep beneath the bed though
progenitors rest, theirs and ours,
antediluvian, Permian, as permanent as the word allows
my footfalls above them today
tomorrow silent where they lay
Robert C Howard Dec 2018
A lost and thirsty wanderer
          sought oasis on a parched and dusty plain
                   where spectral mesas
                merged with pastel stratus clouds -
            quivering in the summer sun.

                    A slender blue ellipse emerged
                            along the horizon's edge,
                          taunting the traveler’s arid throat.

                    Recalling child-day afternoons.
                         splashing in the pond behind the barn,
                              his legs urged toward aquatic deliverance.

                                       But knowledge seized his boots.
                                   Wary of loving a delusion,
                               he chose instead to seek a road or farm
                           or chance upon a horse-backed rancher
                                tracking down an errant calf.

                                       Still he looked back to his phantom pond  –
                                             never to know if an oasis flowed
                                                   less than an hour’s walk away.

                               December, 2018
Empty valley on violent rampage
Challenging mountain to a duel

Outsize ego on prowl
Looking for whom to cut down

A beautiful snake in beauty pageant
Vowing to emerge the forest King

Issue a yellow to a snail
Who vows to climb a salty hill

Crab beware fish is the owner of aquatic splendour!
an aquatic plant
flower syrup for bad coughs
the lotus flower
I got the whole world in my hands,
A woman existing in a diverse land
I thrive in a tribe a group or a clan
I crave and daydream to live in a nomad van
So much beauty to see in all shapes and sizes
So many stories to hear from all the  different lives'
The clear pristine river where the salmon dance makes me quiver in glee
The bears that eat honey and take naps under a tree
Cozy in their giant fur coats so content and free
From the California coast through the seven seas
What a variety of preference and what one believes
The red Sea full of legend and myth
The Indian ocean full of aquatic masterpieces in warm bliss
The iced playground at the bottom of the globe
Where creatures and humans dwell in insulated snowy abodes
What an experience it would be
To eat a banana in the rainforest with a monkey
The humid beauty where fruits grow so pure and abundantly
Giant insects that would send shivers down your spine
Such exotic berries to make a unique wine
What it would be to groove in a congo with the native African man
Where women are so dear and true to their fam
there is endless majesty in this little globe
How I do so wish to see it all before I grow too old
To sit in a rocking chair a mind ever so expanded
So Content and humble never demanded
The need or desire to gather pointless things
But memories everlasting for eons to come
Don't forget to Stop and smell the roses, there is  no need to run
I vow to always grow and expand ...
I am that I am mother Earth's number one fan
Lora Lee Aug 2018
floating on
the pond
dragonflies zip
above me
thinking I
am an
organic substance
an algae-dipped
my hair in fronds
the subtle ripple
of sunstreak
on thigh
like reflections of
rainbow lanterns
upon skin
my skin, puckered
from melding
aquatic escapade
is soothed in this home
of kissing koi
who welcome me
in fin brushes
bubbles on the
of my back
sweet as the
lush harmony
of waterlily voices
that only I can hear
as the gaze of frogs
and forest dwellers
imprints upon
the inner lids
of my

a feeling I had the other day while floating :)
Jade Bartlett Sep 2018
I. The Mermaid

I am six years old,
and I am obsessed with Ariel
from The Little Mermaid--
she is, by far,
my favourite Disney Princess.

I want to be exactly like her--
hair billowing in red swirls
around a heart-shaped face
and eyes so blue they put the very
ocean to shame
(my sister has blue eyes too, you know,
and, to this day, I still envy her,
for her eyes are the loveliest
characteristic of her Beauty--
and believe me, there are many);
purple clam shells vibrant
against porcelain-doll skin
and fully blossomed *******
(in three years from now,
I will begin
to grow *****--
elementary-school style,
B Cups going on C cups
fated to become D Cups,
in comparison to the
budding mosquito bites of
my fellow classmates.
Barely a child,
womanhood threatens
to sexualize my girlish body
before I truly know
what sexualization is);
fins cutting through the water
gracefully in all their
green, iridescent glory
(little did I know that,
as I grew older,
"cutting" would adopt
a far more sinister meaning
in the context of my life).

despite my admiration for Ariel,
I fail to understand her desire
to abandon her
under-sea rendezvous,
sunken treasures,
oceanic melodies to
"be where the people are."

This lack of approval I foster
exists due to the fact that I am
a firm believer of the magic
the aquatic realm (and Disney)
has to offer.

To this day,
I continue to maintain my stance--
that Ariel had been terribly wrong
in the choices she made--
but I have become cognizant of
different (and better) reasons
to argue my position;
after all,
and as a cartoon crab
had so wisely declared once,
"The human world--
it's a mess."
Don't be a stranger--check out my blog!
SteamPhunk Aug 2018
It's exciting,
To run through the blazing light,
To escape these forever days,
To escape the non-stop reality,
To just be this naive child again,
Who loves and explores with glimmering, hopeful eyes,
Who chases butterflies that run away from her into a sunshine haze,
As a child,
I would have underwater tea parties,
Dreamy aquatic wonderland,
I was too stubborn to come up for air,
Forever lost in my own imagination,
Now I am older,
I spend my time hiding in trees,
Because, c'mon, who really remembers the nights that they got good sleep?
I read to escape this non-stop reality,
We get so lost in pretending,
That we forget, we are only a moment,
It's strange, isn't it?
In one minute,
Or sixty seconds,
This little oasis of madness,
Will be gone,
Isn't that sad?
But we're too young to be sad,
I feel bad for the people who will never go insane,
I mean... You can't get lost if you don't know where you're going,
If you hadn't already realized,
Behind my smile is everything you will never quite understand,
So I'm just going to ignore the fact that you're trying to read me,
I'm going to blast this music until I can't feel a ******* thing,
We are the teens out parents warned us about,
The punks, the poets, the outcasts, the misfits,
We're just the Lost Souls,
So here's to the nights that made us feel alive,
Where we stayed up until the sunrise,
Breathing new life into old lungs,
Even when we were choking on laughter,
Lost in worlds that don't exist,
Sway seconds, ecstatic bliss.
be young, be wild, be free.
Conor Neuhaus Jan 24
By Durance Vile, my mind is moored

Its waters ebb and flow

The backwash-break brings back

bright balance

-Uncovers one swash stifled rope


This earthly anchor, untying with the tide

Holds hostage, half aquatic

Guarded grip makes docile, God! moreso, dreary

Hard choices hold chains for the static


In absence of any ascent to dry land

Docked, I'm doomed to dally a while

'Til the noose tugs undone, or I sever it short

And set sail for Durance Vile

— The End —