"beachy" poems
When the first sweet scent of summertime,
sifted through the sea-salt scented air,
so many things and everything
were bright, light and happy-go-fair,
the Summer Life with you was finally here.
As soon as our bare feet hit the wood bridge,
running from the road up over the dunes,
great grey seagulls squawked, dove and swoon,
we held hands together, one and one
made two,
dash-dancing across the shiny sand with you,
dressed and undressed in our Summer Life moods.
Colours like pinwheels spun like yarn,
flashed and clashed bright orange to blue,
you danced and giggled like a loon,
pulled me up and so close, so close
to you,
that I had to dance, I had to dance like a loon,
I just had to laugh and dance and laugh along with you.
How we played, we frolicked beneath the beachy sun,
belly-surfed upon the waves just for funny fun,
flicked flecks of sand from our sticky picnic lunch,
shared swigs from a big blue thermos jug
of fruity-fruit yummy punch,
sharing and caring beneath the Summer Life's sun.
By evening-tide the air grew cool,
you called me 'lover,' I called you 'fool'
-with a big ol' blanket draped over our shoulders,
we kissed and cuddled, growing much bolder,
falling flat back
upon the mighty mattress of sand,
feeling the mists of the waves licking our hands,
as the Man-In-The-Moon arose and shone,
to dance and laugh with us on the Summer Life's throne.
Aug 8, 2010
Aug 8, 2010 at 1:46 AM UTC
i doubt you know how much you mean to me.
If you did you'd be too creeped out to still be dating me.
But to me, you mean the world.
Not the "i'm nothing without you" kind, as I am a valid human being.
Not the "i can't go on if you leave" kind either as i know i could.
But i would really rather not.
Nor could i happily.
You're my world in the way that you make me a better person.
You are why i stay healthy when all i have is a cold.
You're why i drive safe and limit the stupid angsty **** i do
(believe it or not it is limited).
You're a good influence.
You're everything i wish i was and all that beachy ********
But you're so much more.
When i am lost you're my guide
(rife with dat symbolism)
needed more after i got GPS oddly.
When i can't think you're my muse.
You're my companion in this world whether you realize that or not.
The hotter, smarter, funnier,
more responsible, more beautiful half of me.
A liver half is enough to live but to live well it is best for a full one.
To continue this bad metaphor i am living well.
Aug 23, 2014
Aug 23, 2014 at 2:17 AM UTC
My biggest fear has nothing to do
with monsters, the dark, death,
or any of those usual frights.
No, my most intense scare comes
from the anticipation that one day
you may see me the same way
I see myself.
For you see I'm not the girl that guys
conjure up in their daydreams.
I could never hope to pass as one
of those flitty girly-girls who know
of quizzical things such as
make-up
cute hairstyles
or fashion.
My blemishes show, and honestly
I haven't a clue how to hide them
anyway.
I look at braided hair, beachy waves,
and effortless updos with envy
My hair has two styles: up or down.
I've never in my life looked casually cute,
and am obviously uncomfortable
in a dress. Please just pass me
my jeans and t-shirt back,
I'm much more myself in them.
How does one even walk in heels?
I'd like to think I'm one of those
"cool" girls that guys claim
they love, the low-maintenance
type chick, but I don't think
I'm "cool" at all, really.
When guys describe those chicks,
they do things like
play video games
quote Star Wars
read comic books
like some ideal gorgeous geek.
Well that's **** sure not me either.
I **** at video games,
love Star Wars, but
I'm terrible with movie references,
and have never read comics.
Does manga count?
I'm kind of starting to get into that...
I'm not the nerd's epitome of perfection
either, the everyman's ideal.
So what am I? I'm just boring,
little ole me.
I love to read, and would rather
spend the night reading
or watching something than go out.
I'm shy and self-conscious to a fault,
so don't try bringing me around
friends, I'll just bring you down.
Honestly, I'm basically a child. I love
Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles
Gargoyles
Tom & Jerry
Animaniacs
and cartoons in general.
I'm quiet and contemplative, often caught
writing in my notebook,
detailing my observations
about the world around me.
I have a ***** mind and a messed-up
sense of humor, giggling
of the worst times occasionally.
But all in all, I think of myself
as pretty boring. Laidback,
but with the most capricious of moods.
I'm both low and high maintenance.
I don't know why you think positively
of me, but I anticipate the day
you realize I'm really nothing
special at all.
The day you discover the truth
I already know all too well.
Jul 26, 2014
Jul 26, 2014 at 3:56 PM UTC
~
*if you're feeling sinister tonight, come inside the darkroom. picture yourself pouring over mental images of a demure young botanist, loitering around the trapdoor of nostalgia, kissing someone new for the first time.
now imagine she is conscious and clustered in titillating blur, her smile beachy and airborne, with only the slightest suggestion that something troublesome is lurking underneath.
can you see her double exposure? totally tranquil, she poses with an arsenal of poisonous plants, as if she’s already slipped their venom into your tea.*
~
Apr 5, 2023
Apr 5, 2023 at 12:17 PM UTC
I have friends who went,
to Bethlehem, to Paris, to Spain.
Left for London, Beachy Head.
Those friends came back,
back to Halifax, Portland, Bangor–
My friends go.
They go
to the bar for a pint.
They go
to the South for the summer.
They go
to plant trees in Alberta–
The friends who go
are the friends who went.
But I have friends
who are
gone.
Friends
who are
gone
cannot go
to the bar,
to the South,
or to Alberta.
Some friends have left–
through some door,
in the night, in the day,
in a car, on a bed,
on a stretcher, in the street–
and yes, they are
gone.
Where will I go when I am
gone?
Will I be with my friends?
Perpetually traveling
to the South, to Alberta,
to the bar for a pint?
No. I will not go.
I cannot go, once I am gone. When I go, I will be
gone.
I could go anytime,
night or day,
In a car, on a bed,
a stretcher, or street–
Yes, I could go. And when I go, when I leave–
I will be
gone.
So,
Friends who have
gone
where I cannot go,
they must know–
that we all will go, we all leave–
soon, yes, soon. Now,
in the pause
between
moments,
in the quiet space
of a last
breath–
we
all are
gone.
Jan 28, 2014
Jan 28, 2014 at 11:01 AM UTC
Thaw
Today I cause erosion
I angle sand once perpendicular
to a half frozen lake
to a beachy slide
softened with shells
with starfish three hundred
miles away in an ocean
warm as the lips of a moray.
Earth stills below me
ten percent snow
thirty percent mud
fifty nine dirt
and one percent soles.
I carry a stick
I drag through earth
like a rudder through waves
and a clearing I swear
looks like it once
housed a UFO.
Remember the summer
in a three foot grass field
we used plywood and a rope
to make crop circles
that nobody would ever see
and had a fire
next to a creek and listened to water
scratch and sniff the shale.
Mar 15, 2011
Mar 15, 2011 at 9:57 PM UTC
You and I and these beachy vibes.
Swaying like the palm trees in the wind.
The California breeze blowing through our hair as we stay here perfectly still. We build barriers from sand and shells, to protect this moment from all the stares.
Aug 4, 2016
Aug 4, 2016 at 4:46 PM UTC
Salt and sand all over my hands and in the air
Lending that tossed, windy texture to your hair
Sand covered wheels roll us down the boardwalk beside
The push and pull of wanting and waiting blue waves
My fever and thrill so desperate to hold onto you
Burning and impulsive I ask you to bring me to life.
So the sun laid its hand on my scalp, gentle and beaming
Like the perfect roundness of your eyes, gentle and beaming
I absorb the heat from you both, a seaside pocket of heaven
To be a lover when the air is hot and the vibrant colors burn
To explore the world in the ****** of summer, passionately, together
Is the best way to get to know some one, you said to me.
The water lights up so stunning and bright in the midday heat
Like blinding diamonds across miles of blue disappearing edges
So perfect it makes me forget I am not new, nor the first to find you
But it’s impossible to harbor such feelings before a perfect dreamy horizon
So I let it all go,
I’m aware of what we are
What my hair, my lips, my eyes are all symbols of
Suns, moons, and stars from a world sister to ours
A world without the structure and friction these people know
With you I’m unafraid to take this world, to claim that I belong here
To kiss your lips on the boardwalk, to wear my hair down in the wind
To show my skin under the sunlight, to lift up my arms and beam
One person can make me come alive, one summer, one bright beachy day.
Oct 2, 2013
Oct 2, 2013 at 12:07 AM UTC
magic kingdom
magic castle
tomorrow land was yesterday
fantasyland full of
peter pan and cinderella
NASA rockets
towering giants
risky space
I licked space ice
cream from a
dip n' dots
anti-gravity cup
sailed the stars
of a projection
screen
the beach was quite
beachy
peachy
bright sand
hot sun
freezing pacific
specific ocean
seagulls laughing
diving swooping
snatching
shells underfoot
washed up
****** back
cloudy
salty
H2O
crusty wind
blowing wind
ocean wind
ron jon's
surf's up
beach babes
beach boys
orlando
florida
Mar 10, 2014
Mar 10, 2014 at 11:11 AM UTC
"Blood keeps drinking away, certain of its destination. Driving through New Orleans at night. Gotta find a destination...just one fix." ~ Ministry
Sick
I gargle your blood one last time
I hear you tell stories of authors
you love so much
while inside my head digs tunnels
to China
At first unwrapping,
(a child with no eyelids)
the chunk of tar
always seems fist-sized - until it is gone
High
You are suddenly there,
a cool summer morning anxious to be far too hot,
wind blows through you as if it were
balloons
in rainbow hues.
Reloaded conception, sanity.
Sick
Stupid -
doing your part by recycling cans,
wasting water cleaning each one out,
equation a zero-sum,
positive multiplied by a negative.
Aokigahara, a Sea of Trees,
redolence of a carrion flower attracts flies.
They land, bring up dissolution and
spread your legs
where they deposit the eggs.
Beachy Head, a white plume of efflorescent death.
Apr 24, 2011
Apr 24, 2011 at 8:00 PM UTC
Modern and Contemporary Poetry
takes up most of the passenger seat.
Pages' edges ruffled like the balled-up polo I'm wearing. *Tommy Hilfiger'd
be rolling in his millions.* Twenty minutes till work's screen door crashes on the frame twice before settling. Three salad plates, a skillet, and two jars of unsweetened tea condensate
on the metal counter. They soak dinner bills and paper towel coasters.
The front door vacuum seals behind sandal families reeking of Chlorine
and hairspray. Beachy look. Three more families crowd in behind them, taking turns sifting through the hostess desk peppermints for discarded toothpicks. Reservations for 7:00 come in at 6:50 and demand a table. They're just like the mints packed tightly
in the lobby, but there are a few patient ones at the bottom. They're the ones that inspire stanzas in Modern and Contemporary Poetry, the college textbook waiting on my passenger seat. Three more hours.
Jul 26, 2014
Jul 26, 2014 at 10:59 AM UTC
I can taste the salt on my lips
Oxygen is pure
Vegetation is rich
The sound of the shore is a soft as a kiss
The timbre of nature in harmony and bliss
Breeze blowing calm
Gorgeous shells in my palm
And the sand is a void that you can’t miss at all
At Morning the light is so subtle yet bright
Before noon there’s no gloom, much more vivid my sight
Some hours go by while the Sun leaves the sky
So the stars come alive in the brightest of nights
I can taste the salt on my lips...
“Pensai”
Aug 1, 2018
Aug 1, 2018 at 10:23 AM UTC
Born at the age of sixteen
To again experience the cusp of noon sun
At the bottom of orangeade syrup
Indelible on your tongue, permanent
In a mid-summer twilight
At the touch of sweat skin and wet ears
On maple arms and black foot night
Singing to the will o’ the wisp
(Leather bound a thought
They will read it, perhaps pay
And take pleasure in your hymn
As verse of summer knows the animus
Which lightens the load of e’ryone)
Ineffable are his hands on terra cotta walls
A hot whisper in the ear and cotton lips
Which press the skin on beachy nocturne
To the ocean, the unforgiving expanse
That vomits all my woes
Which I throw back into it
To again experience the cusp of heat
And boiling blood and salty extravagance
The emotion at an apogee
That makes the world a rumination of wonder
(Not to live without fault
But to thrive in its decadence)
The heat of twilight cakes my legs in shorts
On yellow sunspots, glowing in his amber eyes
Soon, to appear on the cusp of gothic moor
During the late ombre effect of dusky sky
When its nighttime cataract reveals, the moon
A pitted moonscape
The moor is silent and whispers to its dwellers
If I were to find him there, in the fresco
Etched into the crystal caverns of night
Would he respond in the marsh
With the crickets between the reeds
Or the owl on the ground mole
As the whispers of naiads?
Apr 30, 2011
Apr 30, 2011 at 7:25 PM UTC
gazing into the night sky idly,
the waves crashing onto the boulders allure me.
the stars resembled your beauty;
the ripples of the water being the very picture of your beachy hair.
. . .
you're an adventure i'm waiting to have
Dec 2, 2019
Dec 2, 2019 at 11:02 PM UTC
Here I am writing an awesome sonnet
Just because I have to for my homework,
I can't believe I'm enjoying the school work!
I'm even wearing my little bonnet,
My mom bought by money in her pocket.
I don't even feel like wanting to urk!
I just can't believe I'm enjoying the work!
Now I'm imagining a bright comet,
Bursting out of the huge, vast galaxy
And now I'm being out of topic
Now I want to dive into a big pool,
Diving with my BFF's and Maxy,
Swimming with them in the beachy tropic,
That is going to be superbly cool.
Sep 25, 2013
Sep 25, 2013 at 1:14 PM UTC
summer love
Simply in the sun-warmed grass all day
we'd sit, and talk about some useless ****
And in my jeep I drove you to the bay
to watch the sunset while we shared a bit
of wine. We laid down in that cooling night;
I watched your gentle lips move when you talked.
I told you that I never felt as right,
as when we kissed. My fingers interlocked
with yours; I brushed your beachy hair away
and shared a kiss that may have been our last.
I held you in my arms until the day
peeked through. We knew the sunrise soon would pass
like this. And though we think it isn't fair
departing is the summer's balmy air.
May 13, 2012
May 13, 2012 at 11:07 PM UTC
Lucid
Crystalline
Sea in Cyan -
a rendezvous
with the
Vermillion sunrise
horizon.
Its Amber halo
fades into the
Opalescent
Azure sky
vaguely cast
in Magenta.
Alabaster white
froth, laps up
against the
Sandy shore in Fawn.
Beachy summer-
the vast Blue
Fluorescently mellow
Dawn.
Aug 16, 2021
Aug 16, 2021 at 4:07 PM UTC
we all would like to sit upon a balcony,
overflowing with leafy companions,
and look out into the city, absently,
at the skyscrapers that fill the canyons;
and we all would like to float upon dark blue seas,
our tanned backs skimming the cool blue,
the sun's golden locks tickling our faces like a tease,
and, blissfully, there is nothing to do;
of course, we all would like to laugh uncontrollably,
with our beautiful friends with wild, beachy, bronze hair
and with bejeweled fingers that hold onto ours tightly,
while the loud sounds of the living city permeate the azure air;
nevertheless, we all would like a dark, rainy evening,
our warmth exponentially increased by a knit turtleneck,
and above, the moon emanates its blue light, pale and pleasing,
while we read a book about chance meetings, secret gardens, and a car wreck;
we all would like beautiful things, but life is more meaningful with the untimely thunderstorm, the unwanted acne, the enraging traffic ticket, unexpected endings, and much needed beginnings;
we all would like to not be alone in these things,
and we never need be alone in these things.
Dec 23, 2015
Dec 23, 2015 at 5:31 PM UTC
I am freefloating now in the warmth of the waves that will take me somewhere and somehow,
I know this is right.
This is the desert where night rules,where only fools go,there is no map to guide me as I float along gently
being pushed,being pulled.
being lulled by the motion of this,the great ocean and somehow,
I know that one day
I will find the way.
The day knows that as the sun rises and glows,
all deserts will come to an end,
and the night that would send us to sleep reaps no more of the dream where in silent abandon I scream out your name.
She came and she went,spent a little time on the good things,but death brings no joy to the boy who is left on the shore,
raw and unpolished an essay unfinished,a book hardly started,broken hearted.
I am freefloating now in the warmth of the wave and no one can save me,
I am a slave to the will that would will me to go
but I know that one day
I will find the way
back.
Nov 13, 2013
Nov 13, 2013 at 4:31 AM UTC
My heart is like the broken glass
there lying on the floor
It shattered a few thousand times
behind quick slamming doors
The ****** shards
that lay unbroken
are all of that's left of love unspoken
To you I give this simple token
a piece of me in ****** ink
This piece of glass I entrust to thee
This little glass it holds the key
Beachy glass washed from a sea
from my waiting ...wanting tears
I've tried to love though
it's been vain
My heart is fragile...
single paned
I'll try to love...again with you
liquid sand from praying pew
I know my heart's a fragile mess
my love for you I must confess
the edges sharp my hands caress
to make us whole again
An hourglass I'll shape in time
and strip away the ****** grime
My heart is here to love once more
A green glass piece lost on your Shores
I am here...if you decide to try
rebuild this heart from tears it cries
I wonder in its silence sighs
In you I feel at home
you know I'll hold your heart safe too
curing resin my hands will glue
repairs rebuilding love anew
a fracture fixed by love that's true
build a bond that won't be broken
a smooth soft heart
your loving token.
Cherie Nolan © 2016
Jun 13, 2016
Jun 13, 2016 at 10:22 PM UTC
Van Morrison wrote a song
about me.
And yet the beachy, surf-rock
guitar and loving lyrics
couldn't convince me
that I
was
beautiful.
I envied those with light eyes
Blue,
Green, or
Grey
I saw mine as being
Flat,
Dull, and
Dark
And found yet another reason
to wish that I was
someone
else.
But then you came along.
You saw more than just...
brown.
You looked at me with those
bright baby blues
those shining windows
of a clear summer day
You told me they were brown...
but also
Hazel
and
Auburn
in the sunlight
with specks of gold
"Big love crumbs"
as one of our favorites
would say
I always wanted to be
someone else.
Now, I dread the thought
of being anyone
but yours.
And now, I hear
Van Morrison singing
for the
First Time.
Jul 10, 2017
Jul 10, 2017 at 4:05 PM UTC
Winter tends to bring out the worst in people,
living in Wisconsin doesn't make it easier,
when 60%,
of one year,
of your life,
is cold and wet.
We all yearn for summer,
The word "summer" itself becomes a cliche,
we can't stop talking about it,
and us northerners think about it often.
then the days come when the leaves are on the trees,
and boats and docks sprawl on the thawed out lakes.
And we become happier.
Even those of us with hurt feel bads,
and broken hearts,
they can all forget the pain for a moment.
When they wake up on a summer day,
and hear birds chirping,
and hear the country music blaring,
and the days are longer,
and everything seems pure.
I even can forget about you for a moment,
when my beachy hair flies in my face,
and the lake water covers my skin.
Summer helps me to forget you,
Even though it is when we met.
I'm forgetting you.
Filling up the holes you left,
Finally.
Forgetting.
All of it.
Jul 8, 2013
Jul 8, 2013 at 8:08 PM UTC
The hills of Monte Mario
Drinking his goblet of wine Gallo
Well, Hello! I see the colored sands
Those far away places but no
happy faces in the promised land
I could imagine pinks swaying
the corals her lips always playing
All love to be artistic with morals
Mezzaluna my moon awaits
Hearing my voice more shapes
of the Grecian countryside how it suits
both of their taste
The temples keep drawing
inside our hearts
Like a restaurant name Spartacus
love sometimes ruins us colors
Stay true like the rainbow
But time elapses and spoils us
Taking the whole dessert just
the two of us
Or love divided one of us
Beauty in our walk Green Gables
More Pillars to design
Temples and rear find artifacts
All shapes and colors you see coming
on the outskirts
Grecian beachy sand Godly waves
with your lover in the water
Got stung how it hurt her feet
Mezzalemium hearing playful drums
Hearing a familiar beat
Playing in the wilderness of dirt
The ****** of the night *** cake
he hums
The ancient stadium hard work pays off
The roses color shades divine pink
Lips high as the pillars red wine stained
your Grecian silk pillows
Thr Grecian times of food colors
and desires all mine
The colors that I shadow
Weeping beauty willow
Lifted her juices of sexuality
(Sunshine Grand Marnier)
something
sparks my vision
The color of pleasure French
Pillars stand tall and slender
Handsomely love fusion
His color I try to mellow
My color touched another
The mind of drama
((Grecian Goddess))
It's not handing for a hand
in a marriage like a pixel
The big statuette like models
We also treasure the thing we lost
The colors will be there
We will always see them
They are in our family never
to leave them
Jun 29, 2018
Jun 29, 2018 at 12:47 PM UTC
The only thing i see
in your seaside eyes
is love.
i don't see the mistakes you've made
or the rumors and lies
that everyone seems to see.
I don't see a delinquent in you,
that's not who you are.
I see beachy hair,
curling around your face,
just right.
I see a tall lankiness,
as you tower over me.
Those eyes, and
that smile.
I see how kind you are,
and how much you really
care. i know you aren't who
they think.
You are who you are with me.
I see you, and i wish you
could see me too.
May 31, 2013
May 31, 2013 at 1:23 AM UTC