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"asea" poems
the meaning of an apology: echoes of a thousand I’m Sorry’s; the silence of deceit, its awful slink; the humbled hope to atone, to pay amends where due, to mend the maimed, and trust renew. forgiveness is a sad word: it bears the scar of a wound; to forgive is to hope with hurt. it is to trust in tide to wash ashore; for in lack of trust and hope, it is noble to sink with the ship. it is bolder yet to hop asea, and let tide be guide. the parable of the builders: the wiser built his house on  rock, the rain came down, the floods came, the winds blew, and beat on that house; and it did not fall, for it was founded on a rock the foolish built his on sand, the rain came down, the floods came, the winds blew, and beat on that house; and it fell — and great was its fall. determination's downfall; for, is a house still not a house despite its foundation? fortune's fortress looms; our sandcastle holdfasts hampered in comparison, but home is neither keep nor battlement, neither moat nor bailey, neither portcullis nor drawbridge; home is where you touch the ground, where you choose to grow... the rain will retain its hiss; but the rain is still the rain, the floods remain the floods, and the wind is just the wind. ~ Inori
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Sep 6, 2021
Sep 6, 2021 at 7:14 PM UTC
An Apologist's Apology (Trusting the Tide)
floundering souls searching for the essence in the sea of humanity, for what is important has meaning, and matters. It is we who care for us and help those who can't help themselves... or something like that...Asea That's how my poetry comes to be...
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Jan 12, 2011
Jan 12, 2011 at 5:10 PM UTC
Asea
With coarsest sackecloth cloathe my naked soule;      Construct for me a throne of ashes blacke; Place on my lying lipps a liuing coal;      Cast me asea inside a sackcloth sacke; I am a rocke of great offence, a rocke As stonie-hearted as a stvmbling blocke. Not any man hath greater loue than this,      That hee should for his friend laye downe his life; But I betray'd my friend without a kisse      And stabb'd into his backe a butter knife; And hee who loues his life his life shall lose, And I, by loving life, my death did chuse.
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Mar 26, 2024
Mar 26, 2024 at 12:24 PM UTC
The Lost Stanza of "Saint Peter's Complaint" by Robert Southwell
i still haven't found what i am looking for is much more complex, much more profound than just a few things. unrewarding is a life asea that lives and breathes within one's dreams. exhausted; what i look for may not even exist except for what lies in my subconscious mind. dubiously just living and seemingly wasting time.
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Nov 23, 2019
Nov 23, 2019 at 8:19 AM UTC
U2
Warrior to dark's most daunting dreams savior from thoughts that run too deep Terrify, not one dares it seems brings panacea to night's sleep Beacon for flailing ships asea, the Ana of fifty shades Grey Beauty saving the nocturne beast keeps subconscious demons at bay Catches every breath with her smile as summer's sun, a heart it warms Intensity not seen awhile quells the worst of fierce thunderstorms Her touch, akin to the spring's rain gently blooming buds to flowers Still, mental images are vain ne'er experience her powers Shan't romance, ****** love, or hold hear her voice, feel her aura's beams Suppose I could, though not so bold so she must stay within my dreams
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Apr 16, 2017
Apr 16, 2017 at 5:45 AM UTC
Nocturnal Eminence
four leagues out to sea night and ocean were black and calm the moon rose to give shape and form to a crisp world alone in the universe in an infinate blur the milky way winked at me wish upon a star darling
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Apr 18, 2018
Apr 18, 2018 at 7:14 PM UTC
Asea
asea, tangled web of complexity raging rapids hasten mortality albatross lingers over me stiffen bones death's rigidity spare the beacon's search for me alas my life may no longer be battered and bruised I was left alee
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Oct 3, 2021
Oct 3, 2021 at 8:32 AM UTC
aquaphobia
Shaking my head as I shuffle through Nod And wander through darkness on scabrous old feet Where the fruits are forbidden, and might I add strictly But the knowledge is ever so sweet I’m Under the Influence of sir Malcolm L And M. L. von Franz has me under her spell Seeking the change that I wish I could be While my dear inner Ahab I struggle to quell To search by escaping through tropics and trenches Determined to make every ocean my home My singular purpose: the potion that quenches Still I drink that I could theme alone In this watering hole will I bury my hatchets A sickness that’s cured is an ailment forgotten So choke every sorrow and drown your regrets A soul that remembers is cursed to go rotten With penalties and interest forever compounded I’m astounded to watch how my recollection grows The proverbial wisdom that’s also called madness Is purchased on credit and paid for with woes Drifting asea to steer clear of collectors Engulfed instead by tempests my own Echoing voices demanding comeuppance From the depth comes a cry that disturbs every bone These howling reminders are issued below From under the surface by more than a beast My pirates on deck keep me bound to the mast Always in earshot and never released Mostly a head but with hardly a face My nemesis, massive, can scarcely be seen Not to be measured through time or in space From his cousins’ cadavers our data we glean Less than a man, I stomp on my stump And promise to silence the primitive brute Guided by starlight, unable to sleep Harpoon at the ready and eager to shoot **** the torpedoes and to hell with the crew Set sail at once for the wide open blue Don’t be seduced by this monster in white His message is wicked, no less than it’s true He feeds on your anger, you’re never too old To listen instead of exerting your tongue Or shaking the hinges of Davy Jones’ locker On the floor of the ocean where Melville met Jung
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Aug 15, 2024
Aug 15, 2024 at 5:14 PM UTC
Out of my depth
Shaking my head as I shuffle through Nod And wander through darkness on scabrous old feet Where the fruits are forbidden, and might I add strictly But the knowledge is ever so sweet I’m Under the Influence of sir Malcolm L And M. L. von Franz has me under her spell Seeking the change that I wish I could be While my dear inner Ahab I struggle to quell To search by escaping through tropics and trenches Determined to make every ocean my home My singular purpose: the potion that quenches Still I drink that I could theme alone In this watering hole will I bury my hatchets A sickness that’s cured is an ailment forgotten So choke every sorrow and drown your regrets A soul that remembers is cursed to go rotten With penalties and interest forever compounded I’m astounded to watch how my recollection grows The proverbial wisdom that’s also called madness Is purchased on credit and paid for with woes Drifting asea to steer clear of collectors Engulfed instead by tempests my own Echoing voices demanding comeuppance From the depth comes a cry that disturbs every bone These howling reminders are issued below From under the surface by more than a beast My pirates on deck keep me bound to the mast Always in earshot and never released Mostly a head but with hardly a face My nemesis, massive, can scarcely be seen Not to be measured through time or in space From his cousins’ cadavers our data we glean Less than a man, I stomp on my stump And promise to silence the primitive brute Guided by starlight, unable to sleep Harpoon at the ready and eager to shoot **** the torpedoes and to hell with the crew Set sail at once for the wide open blue Don’t be seduced by this monster in white His message is wicked, no less than it’s true He feeds on your anger, you’re never too old To listen instead of exerting your tongue Or shaking the hinges of Davy Jones’ locker On the floor of the ocean where Melville met Jung
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