"beachfront" poems
I’m an apricot , ripe on the tree - ready for picking
I am a cherry , offering to be popped
3 tequila shots or the equivalent of a blurred memory inside me
my heart is bleeding a little at the acts my body is moving through
i am bleeding a little at the acts my body is moving through
i bleed for 4 days , 5 days.
i am amazed that he pulled out. i find that incredible -
as if a man is wild in the act of mergence and unable to control himself ,
ideas of male/female roles imprinted on me
from parents , **** and public school - where girls are made into women
at 13 ,
we discuss when we will “lose our virginity” i say 15 if i’m ready (!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!)
i should expect him to *** inside me , because i am the subservient woman and he should do as he pleases
i think it magical his heightened awareness -
i see his majestic beauty on his well formed muscles
and the hotel room his family owns , or the kick *** motorbike he drives and the supply of beachfront joints.
and still it is now 1 year later that i am in pain.
a fire on my heart and a sick feeling in my stomach
i am sick because i swallowed the lies and hated myself , i truly believed i was worth that level of respect. the fire burns swiftly in my heart because i am enraged and sorrowful at my ignorance. I am partly ashamed at my lack of empathy
for myself and partly in awe at my magnificence.
We look at virginity as pure , unsoiled.
Pure. Unsoiled.
**** Subconsciously telling our mothers , sisters , aunties and grandma’s that they are ***** for exercising their basic ****** function. Shaming us for feeling pleasure.....the connotations are different for brothers , fathers , uncles and grandpas. A pat of well done on the back , you are now a “man”.............well .. i’ll be ****** it amazes me how these sly , low blows are hidden right in plain sight.
well fuckkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkk that !
I know i love myself now
with the respect i would rain down upon any other fellow being .
i wish : for them and me to be able to love without fear, disgust and shame.
i wish to allow my energy from that moment to feed others who need help along their path of self-love.
Now my cosmic womb is treated with respect and reverence
enjoying myself freely.
Oh but , i will say thank you , and a sensi bow , for the lesson learnt.
Never again will i put others on a pedestal they have not earnt.
Especially if it has anything to do with my *****
May 10, 2014
May 10, 2014 at 10:29 AM UTC
I never met a storm I didn't like
I wish I could say the same for people
Though sometimes I think
They have as little control
Of what they destroy
As storms
I think I could love anyone,
that shared a mountain coast with me.
Those rocks and rivers and beachfront caves?
I feel like a pirate.
And I believe not caring what others think,
Is a coward's way to self-esteem.
You can't make everyone happy
That doesn't mean you shouldn't try.
I can seem cold
But what you're hearing
Is precision
It makes sense when you love words
And hate being misunderstood.
I hate when people argue to be right
Instead of understand
It's self-indulgent
And dehumanizing
And so very me.
I'm such a nerd I'd need another poem
to convey how much
But I think it will suffice to say
If you like
Will McAvoy
The Dragonborn
Charles Spurgeon
Vault Dwellers
or the Crystal Gems
We'll probably get along.
And lastly
I only wrote this poem
Because I hate not having an answer
To "tell me about yourself."
Aug 29, 2015
Aug 29, 2015 at 8:25 AM UTC
Your eyes burned and danced between
First blue then green, then blue
The driftwood fires, beachfront pyres,
Your essence clashing too.
Cracking, burning, twisting with
The knowledge close at hand
The truth within the salted seas
That lap and brush the sand.
I had placed you there and you
Like sun-bleached ocean wood
Went willing trapped up in my grip
Although you understood...
The mark those waters left upon
Your brittle, scorched treebones
Your twisted fingers skyward
With your back against the stone.
And somehow I, though conflicted, danced
Around you both between
Consuming and devouring
Both fallow earth and sea.
May 13, 2015
May 13, 2015 at 3:07 PM UTC
*There's no place else I'd rather be,
Then wrapped in silence, near the sea,
Upon the serenities, of the oceans aquamarine waters,
With waves gently dancing, as I sit and wander.
Gazing on the sandy oceanfront,
Beneath the moonlight, with you on the beachfront,
As you place your hands, upon my face,
And kiss my lips, until the night fades.
While the stars, sparkle in the sky,
Until the rose pink light of dawn, comes by,
With echoes of a tender breeze,
And you and I, are heavenly at peace.*
Apr 26, 2014
Apr 26, 2014 at 3:11 PM UTC
Fowl floating and flapping across an ocean canopy.
Lightly squawking and ascending in a calm summer sky.
Waves shine and melt into the beachfront in a dull roar slowly thundering in diagonal collapsing sectors.
The top of the ocean. The point of a sphere. Its water that falls slowly to the bottom of..... Here!
Ripples and puddles and drinks full of life, the clearest the murky and bluest in light.
Mountains and palisades can be rocks that reach skyward. God on a gravel road walking through.
The golden purple cattails glow in the sunlight like strawberry fields that fizzle on my hands in the wind that can dance. The vinyl green stem leafs sit stagnantly silently awaiting the moon.
Hoppers crescendo in a frozen moment singing in stillness that refuses to relent.
The trees around them bask in the energetic massage from the moving sections of recently called air vapors.
The Hi- C haircuts that nature reminds me it inspired bobble from the vectors.
This climate ecology scenery breeds the moments religions were made for me.
Dec 28, 2014
Dec 28, 2014 at 8:33 PM UTC
*His eyes rivet on the extravagant evening sun,
in frenzied creation, profusely mixing colors,
applying on the canvas of the horizon,
painting her, his lover with astonishing precision,
--portrait of a girl in love
unmindful of what the world thinks about her
and in total dedication to her man.
Love makes larger than life heroes out of weak mortals,
and creates echoes on the far horizons that keep on reverberating!
She sits quietly holding his hands as if it is all she needs
never thinking, it is obvious, whether this is a fallacy or ultimate truth,
that holds good for all the changing seasons.
With her long chiseled fingers she draws
something beautiful, a motif that emerged in her mind,
in front of them, the seascape, was a lively cyclorama
framed by bright ultramarine.
Like eels just out of water, their bodies gleaming,
bikini clad glam girls, beach soldiers spearheading
an undeclared beauty attack,
on the look out for hidden challenges
while walking past the love pair,
each one stands awhile, scrutinizing her thoroughly
measuring with a scale, hidden in those eyes,
as if she was a **** on parade, even women couldn't help covet.
Though inappropriately dressed, for the beachfront appearance,
she invites more attention, she is amused.
But after a tumultuous love, and eventful elopement
she is in bliss, in her love-land with her prince
she is just ecstatic, no thought could make her shake off her composure.*
Feb 8, 2014
Feb 8, 2014 at 2:15 AM UTC
Haven't even shed Crocodile tears
Calloused feet and scaled back,
the tear and wear.
Biting wildly and deeply into what feeds me
That desperation is the toll it has me in a death roll
This whirlwind of drip grit and flames; while spinning in the mud I can have no shame.
My pride deluded me to think of myself as an ancient king of lakes and streams.
Watering holes or beachfront property
On a sunny day, my kind knows harmony
We only know war At the movement of opportunity.
A Petty precarious peace treaty:
Survival of the fitness; closed mouths don't get fed
Survival instinct; if you don't eat you'll be the one who loses an arm and a leg
How can I even shed Crocodile tears
When I've become the dread
Mar 8, 2023
Mar 8, 2023 at 3:32 PM UTC
Orb of light rose in the east.
Jade blue sea sparkled.
Glistening at dawn.
Atmospheric scent of the sea.
Laid on the shoreline in relaxation.
A maiden.
Glimmering hair of gold.
Splayed as fan across the rocks.
Hair stroking the rock pools.
As she found her rest.
Where dwell her marine friends.
Relishing dawn's tranquility.
Magical moments.
Self-assured in their silence.
He staggered, bladdered.
Night on town complete.
Where beautiful lady he did meet.
Stumbled across her.
In drunken totter.
She felt his presence.
Was not required.
Breach of peace and quiet.
The powers that be then set her free.
He looked up again she was gone.
The beachfront carved with marks peculiar.
As the sea did give the maiden lure.
Seduced the mermaid, oh so pure.
By ladylivvi1
© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)
Nov 29, 2013
Nov 29, 2013 at 9:51 AM UTC
I want all the songs that give you goosebumps
to live on one single piece of wax, a low rumble
that spans acres, that stretches for miles in each
direction, that raises the skin of all who can see
and feel its grooves and pushes each of us to swim
in sound.
I want you to find all of the noises that pull you
and hold them in your heart as tightly as you gripped
the note I passed you in class complaining about
our professor's tenuous grasp of English grammar, the
ink sweating through the notebook paper and staining
your fingertips. Hold these noises in your heart and allow
the tones to imprint themselves inside your chest, next to
all your other organs.
I want you to sprawl yourself inside of all of this
calamitous cacophony such that you don't know
where your breath begins or if it's part of the melody
or the harmony or another part entirely that you've
never experienced or thought possible, like alto clef or
diminuendo or a vibration in your stomach that
snaps you back to exactly where you are, exactly
where you are.
I want you inside of all of the waves, inside all
of the resonating structures, like unreinforced
masonry and rebar after a larger earthquake
than any of us anticipated, like a tuning fork
standing tall in the middle of the city, like a
memory you can't get out of your head, like a
cold beachfront property sitting high atop
eroding ground.
I want you to reach over to the stereo and
pause before lowering the volume, thinking of
my face listening and falling in love with the
crashing of instruments and electronic tones
and I want you to know that when I was with
you I was inside of all of it, feeling the rough
edges and all the parts of it and dulling the pain
from your sharp angles jutting out in my direction
and I want you to put yourself in my head and think
what it would be like to have to avoid eye daggers and
unspoken thoughts.
I want you to fall inside of the music and allow
yourself to be pierced by its high treble and
shoved by its low bass and I want you to think of me
and how all the sounds are mine and how you will
never catch me sharing my records with you again
and how the needle pokes your fingertips when you
try to drop it and how that feels, bleeding on the
vinyl, alone.
Sep 18, 2013
Sep 18, 2013 at 8:09 PM UTC
Roadwork...PoThOlEs
Riverside...TORnadOs
Beachfront...HuRRiCaNEs
Stringspools...SPUN!!!!!!!
May 27, 2014
May 27, 2014 at 12:40 PM UTC
the wind was swinging from the trees
and mute gulls overhead, slipped in the blue above
swarming the beachfront... gulping salt and silver glints
flapping in their gullets with black eyes
and no dreams.
i walked the causeway and the off road
juggling the change in my pocket with an absent mind.
i turned corners that were never there
and came to a halt as the sun bleached the horizon.
I thought that Beauty was a thing.
and simply forgot to move,
and the world forgave me.
Jan 21, 2016
Jan 21, 2016 at 10:19 PM UTC
The tattooist’s lines
Soften
Turn to blue
Faiths have
An anchor
And forget me knot
Marks time
Within a beachfront kiosk
Mattress in rear
Note on shutters
Saying
Back in 15 minutes
Older than her waist size
Younger than the priced
Sunday Sport tabloid
Talking of big ****
And WW2 bomber on the moon
That she’d folded
As though sleeves rolled up
Her name imprinted
Each stick of rock
On the seafront
When anyone talked of Faith
Pink words
Always turned blue
Apr 23, 2025
Apr 23, 2025 at 9:53 AM UTC
In the tranquil ocean mirror,
you see you where the ripples clear.
A cool ribbon of breeze
slips across the sand
dancing with your hair
like a bead of flaxen flame.
In your eyes of winter mist,
a field aloft in clouded bliss.
Rainbow's end cascades upon
a grove of swaying palms
as the crackle of waves
whirls over the marigold plain.
Apr 1, 2023
Apr 1, 2023 at 3:06 PM UTC
Sleepless nights because of magical awakenings
I like the stars and watching them
Why can't we sleep with them inside our eyes?
If we couldn't dream, give me more stars in exchange
Dec 30, 2020
Dec 30, 2020 at 10:29 PM UTC
in circles trying to figure out centaur spines. thinking about bleeding in the cold green sea as waves crash and collapse against each other like lovers hungrily falling into each other's embrace. listening to old songs I've heard many times before. reading old books I've read many more times before. waiting for summer. not suntan-watermelon-bikini-beachfront summer. mountain-heatwaves-at-home-forest summer. I want to pretend it lasts for ever and then ends. I'm bored, so kiss me goodbye before I leave.
May 18, 2016
May 18, 2016 at 1:17 AM UTC
Coastal seizures. So sand fills a sun-kissed cheek.
Boasted features, hands lull movement in hips so meek.
Thumbs peel lids to stretch the Sun into clefts that reflexes forget
Two fingers press against throats and ears to breaths.
Palms press ditches in chests to remind hearts of blood to teach.
Lungs keep secrets that tongueless kisses were made to reach.
Salt water rinses cheeks of death and cold stares
Paroxysms exhume life in the form of humid air.
Grief slowed as tides fell.
Teeth locked as cheeks swell.
Water took softly what it had let go
More than shook fondly but it had let grow.
May 16, 2016
May 16, 2016 at 8:12 PM UTC
Sitting in a large hotel room
Thinking of the competition coming soon
One person in my left has a binder out
The kids across the hall are trying not to shout
Fixing up the gadgets at the last minute
While some play board games in the mindset to win it
It's 11:30 at night, I'm eating cold Chinese
Win or lose, fail or fly, I do as I please
We all cheer when the fourth comes back with ice
This moment is my paradise
Sitting on a mountain the temperature of snow
I eye the massive valley below
The farms and forests make a patchwork quilt
The streets and towns are embroidery of silk
The sun rises, setting the treetops on fire
My campmates wake up slow with some ire
Out here, I'm awed by mother earth's ways
As my friends and I decide how to navigate our days
I don hiking clothes under the day's new light
This moment is my paradise
Summer in full swing, the crickets cry
As twilight yeilds stars in the sky
We wander the camp, the ocean roars in the distance
Masters of our fate, we don't need assistance
Whether at the beachfront, ziplining, or boardwalks
We run like a fox pack, not caring who gawks
As we think of the adventures of the world ahead
There's nowhere I'd like to be instead
As our flip flops crack on the ground the camp comprised
This right here is my paradise
We're running around another big city
So much to see, and I have my group with me
We just got out of our musical clinic
Now it's time to explore the town, see the magic in it
We'll meet up at five, for a dinner at seven
We'll go on a boat and get back at eleven
Right here, right now, we can make our own way
Free from routine, we get to have a say
We're a bit confused, a little underdressed
We still need chaperones, and we're way underslept
Even with all of that, this will more than suffice
This right here is my paradise
Mar 19, 2017
Mar 19, 2017 at 10:39 PM UTC
All the rays of a summer sunset cascade into the atmosphere in flowing locks, falling onto the shoulders of a sandy beachfront: blinding in its’ fair complexion. Ocean eyes pierce the landscape with their tantalizing aqua gaze. Freckles and marks of sea shells and silky smooth pebbles dot the surface of the porcelain skin shore, bringing a thousand stories of each one’s journey to the surface of the water. A warm breeze glides over the waves, creating a sing-song lullaby that lilts into a bold melody. As it rolls across sea and shore, it comes to the edge of the forest, where it meets the ears of the woodland creatures. Jade green leafy eyes gaze with brazen admiration upon this sunshine goddess, who focuses her gaze, in turn, on the woods. The forest’s dark, luscious locks wrap around the trees and sway in the wind. The cool, shaded, earthy skin teams with freckled flowers and scars of fallen trees. Her breezy laugh rustles with the leaves and calls back to the sea.
I am the forest, deep and dark and full of life.
She is my ocean, bright and warm and teaming with beauty.
She drinks me in with those watery eyes, shining deeper than the stars. Her glowing tresses blind me with their splendor as I bask in their rays. I stretch out a branch and caress her silky skin as she whispers into my soul. A wave of love laps into my thirsty soil, and I shower her with petals and their perfumes. We strain upward, reach out, and entwine. We are dancing. It is a reckless, desperate dance of crashing waves, falling trees, roaring winds and screeching songbirds. Our laughing voices shake the ground into a whirlwind of passionate adventure. Shadows and light beams meld into a tapestry as we glide above the surface of the water, through the treetops and into the stardust... forever hand in hand with my darling, my love, my sunset, my beach.
Dec 9, 2017
Dec 9, 2017 at 4:03 PM UTC
Soft as calling the breeze through springtime trees
Sunshines warmth cascades through early morning trees
Beachfront waves lap quietly to their last reprieve
Sometimes places in in memories such as these
Of times so long in ages distant past
Thoughts gathered in the nets our imagination casts
Of dragons and the middle age mountain dwelling folk
Twist round the fireplace our thought we stoke
And as in embers stirred n ow to the night sky
Beyond the beliefs of those we one did try
Then finding grass touched by the rain so green
True light spills from dawns first sunrise echoes as a dream
By and large the clouds across the vaulted sky
To enhance the thoughts that gave us hope to try
Ignoring now the voices of those that said we could not try
(GE2014 (C) Reserved
Jul 30, 2014
Jul 30, 2014 at 6:54 AM UTC
It’s a dull woollen grey sweater day
Where the birds too have withdrawn their song
and tucked their wings in for winters chill fingers
that will reach out and capture their whistling tunes.
Dropping pleasantries on the big city boulevards
Hidden from prying eyes, windows shut tight
like mouths with no words left.
Winter comes suddenly.
With no pamphlets announcing a matinee
show of ballet beauties or bronzed horsemen
riding in the sultry sun on careless beachfront.
That shuffle sand and people into shady nooks
and under trees.
Winter does the opposite.
Each evening from now winter will keep the refrigerator door
open for chilled soups to warm up to toasted breads
to bring a summer inside ourselves with its comfort.
Of course the weathermen will wander of course
talking up storms and snowfalls, ice and wind sleet
and temperature drops to keep the moods down
locked and lifeless, now waiting for summer to come around.
The garden will go limp with excuses
shedding its autumn floral displays
and standing bare and naked before
the mirror of winters reflection.
As each day passes, the mood will dampen down
and slink into caves of warm pockets.
We go from room to room
aimlessly looking out the snowy mountains
Wearing their white skull caps like chinese market gardeners
waiting to harvest
the last fading greenery around.
Soon the snow will
capture the mountain ranges
and spread its feathery fishnet sheets
all the way down to the valleys.
This is it. The conquest of windchill against a blazing summer
Is complete. Down at the door level of temperatures
it feels unique to be so isolated and lonely.
The sun does come out but it acts s subdued and
lukewarm- not basking, not bright,
just staying for a short while each
day and leaving even before dusk comes rapidly,
never overstaying the welcome.
Author Notes
The seasons now change in New Zealand. Only yesterday it was summer filled with so many pleasant activities. Autumn has its own language of colours, but winter rolls in and rocks, drawing us into ourselves and planning for next summer. It is a warm winter now.
© Marshall Gass. All rights reserved.
Apr 1, 2014
Apr 1, 2014 at 1:20 AM UTC
There is a place I long to be
Set in a tranquil turquoise sea,
Where frothing waves lap on a shore
Of pure white sand and shells galore.
A villa steeped in old world charm
Peeks out behind a lush green palm
And invites all to come and view
A beachfront joy of endless blue.
And basking in clear cloudless skies
You claim a bliss filled, sun kissed prize
Of golden skin and drinks on ice,
The calling card of paradise.
Jul 2, 2018
Jul 2, 2018 at 9:57 PM UTC
when the black pebbles
crept into the crevices
of my shoes
and pulled me deeper into
the earth
I felt connected -
like I feel with you;
i wanted to pick the flowers
and give them to you
but they’d never make it back
across the sea
of anxiety I skid across
until my arms are wrapped around you
and I know you’re mine.
There I sunk
into the sand, out of luck,
dreaming of love,
sick with it to the bone-
infected, **** it-
and thinking of you,
I stopped and listened to the sound
of glassy waves shattering cold
against shifting mossy rockfaces.
I thought of the way
you make my blood rush
like the windblown waves;
how my heart
is full of the changing colours of our souls
like the water transforms
deep to shallow,
light to dark to light again... until the cool silence arrives,
sweet music
of a babbling beachfront
historic bedrock
and
the wreck of the edmund
fitzgerald
hidden beneath
in shallow graves;
ten thousand souls
over a century,
I can hear them all
telling me
“this is the place. this is right.”
where I wanna be
she may be
and I could be wrong
but
my heart steers me
and I can’t stop smiling
so
here I root
to begin my new life
at the
edge of the world.
Dec 3, 2019
Dec 3, 2019 at 4:18 PM UTC
Yesterday when I was walking along the beachfront and the sun was painting the sky pink with candyfloss clouds as it set, I missed you and I wished you were holding my hand.
Oct 8, 2019
Oct 8, 2019 at 1:07 PM UTC
your fingertips across my skin
the palm trees swaying in the wind
memories
you told me you would never lie
the sweetest sadness in your eyes
you never did
i truly want to see you happy
and i know you want the same for me
but it's hard when all i want is
your hand holding mine
and to hear you whisper softly
i love you and i'm glad you're mine
and it's getting harder these days
to pretend i'm over you
should have known you'd bring me heartache
boys like you always do
we walked along a crowded street
i took your arm and you smoked with me
memories
and when i left you held me tight
and said that you would never ever forget
our many nights
i truly want to see you happy
and i know you want the same for me
but it's hard when all i want is
your body entwined in mine
and to hear you whisper softly
my darling i'm so glad you're mine
and it's getting harder these days
to pretend that i'm just fine
should have known you'd bring me heartache
boys like you always do
i cannot walk by the beachfront
i cannot smoke beneath the moon
i've abandoned so many records
because your ghost still haunts their tunes
so now you're gone and i'm broken
and i bet you are just fine
i wish i knew a way to live
without you by my side
but it's hard when all i want is
your arms around me tight
and to tell you just this once that
i love you and i'm glad you're mine
and it's getting harder these days
to live life without you
should have known you'd bring me heartache
boys like you always do
Aug 21, 2019
Aug 21, 2019 at 10:12 AM UTC