"estuary" poems
On flat bank’s where
grass runt reeds grow
waiting for rising tide,
A lone Heron stealths silently
while Gulls cry warning, and dive in to a cold sea air.
Phoenix Peanut and Pandora
stranded on wet mud bank,
wait for their chance to escape
but it’s bonds that need to be severed in their quest for freedom.
Estuary lights dim and flicker in the distance while closer to shore Mermaids sing on the breath of a storm.
Beckoning sailors "come ride the waves"
Siren songs of lost souls and shadows
“Come with us” on this bursting sea.
And they sing with a drowning charm
as fishermen launch vessels under a shawl covered wife's watchful eye.
And yesterdays widows weep, face rained bright from navigational lights.
Ships bell ring in time with a rollicking sea,
Pheonix Peanut and Pandora
still await their escape but not this night.
While the Heron has long fled this great swell.
No cries now from gulls nor mothers hurrying their little ones to the safety of their coal fired warm homes.
Just the rage of wave riding mermaids that will have their bounty
the heart and souls from a fisherman life.
Jul 18, 2018
Jul 18, 2018 at 9:34 AM UTC
in a taut black dress
you brush by me
you are
dark summer fruit simmering hot
a sopping estuary
i gather you into me
you cascade like an undulating cat
giggles like trembling gelatin
cherry kiss lips
agile muscle shifting
pleating like soft furs
against my thunderous chest
your tremulous tongue rupturing
like spiced chrysanthemums from heaven
i inhale your lavender breath
your saliva melts stormy mouth up-leaping
i eat your soul
and paradise ********
licking honey rainbows
filling my mouth a thousand times
and a thousand more
its never enough when some one has your heart
suffocate me in your drooling mouth
your body is my aviary
and hot house of man eating plants
i run to your teeth
beautiful cleavers gleaming
shivering with excitement
from your dragging bites
my blood languishing at your feet
have no regard for me
eat my love
i live to be swallowed by you
i hold you through the night
all dire raptures
dark in mystic paradise
tangled in your hair
may mourning never find us
torrid scorched from flames infernal
black candles uncrossing pasts
devils **** your adoring toy
kisses never ceasing
hot weather nostrils steaming
your flexed body writhes
a royal contortion
your heart cleaving
so that i may like a sun
consume your darkest edges
bitter chocolate so sweet
to fill griefs mouth with ecstasy
my heart aches like a siren of echoes
calling to you
shaking your gates down
you are a titanic gravity
and i'm forever tumbling
like eternal burning ashes through cobalt night
it is a steep decent into heavens arms
as i crumble
all smashing diamonds
and hissing flames
into open wounds weeping glitter
your chin jutting
throat stretched
while pulling the roots of your hair
exposing arteries pulsing
stuffing myself on your marrow
you plume like a volcanic moon
showering me with spooling stars
and butter **** kisses
ill turn you into my glistening little *****
all swollen tears for more
rituals of adoration
kisses like monsoon rains
i look up at your supple form
your haunches my temple
worshiping you
smothered in heavens jaws
you cascading pantie-less
in a taut black dress
Aug 22, 2017
Aug 22, 2017 at 1:36 PM UTC
Who will play the river and who will play ocean?
That is to be determined, although I can stretch farther than you.
Where freshwater and saltwater meet;
that will be our special place
where love can flourish.
Biodiversity has never been lovelier.
Let's hope that no dams keep you from coming in to me
and destroy our sanctuary-
our estuary.
But you know how it is these days.
Apr 17, 2014
Apr 17, 2014 at 11:07 PM UTC
I'm in love with a fisherman who fears sailing onward to outstretched sea
instead he casts his nets over ponds and shallow streams
I’m in love with a fisherman whose hands are ignorant of forceful currents and giant swells
each graze from his unscathed hands reminds me of his vanity
his boasting never halting -- the fish are endless in his shallow stream
My fisherman is too cowardly to inhale the briny air
so when we make love
the smell of fresh water lingers on my sheets and my salty skin needs a drink
but this estuary is not a haven for ill-fated love
while I yearn for my fisherman, my heart will always yield to the sea
Mar 29, 2013
Mar 29, 2013 at 10:18 AM UTC
i like it ickity split
mad to exceed the world
in dark dreams ******
to evoke blood wet mouths
insertions paradise of fluorescents
in a dark aperture
her pudenda
a rolling hill
gaudy wound like a smash mouth crying
split torn tearing, pink estuary
for gluttonies' joyride
that can hardly be endured
twisted tongue spice melts and glitters raw
the sheets soaked through
matted hair in saliva
blood and eggs
the screams of monsters rapture
oh feral abandon
every thing else a toil
winged genitals
hell toys for mama
like heaven cant know
his *****
like hanging bats
Nagasaki goes off in her ***
bodies; quake in silence
the bedroom; a chaotic bathroom
tulips shrill flutter
gulp and swallow milks flame
rosy welts laughing
flushing orgasm's
shoved urns
all spilled libations
touching and *******
crimson **** runnels
in bathhouse foam
down the drain
to earthen bowels din
where the dead push up daisies
i am the worm in the fruit
Dec 5, 2018
Dec 5, 2018 at 8:09 AM UTC
A swansong of the Indian Partition...
Kal humaare ghar ke diye bujhe rahenge,
Kal hum kuch rishton ke liye rote rahenge...
Tomorrow the lamps of our home will remain put out,
Tomorrow we shall keep crying for some relations...
Rishte un bantwaara hue kheton se,
Rishte un bhatakte hue jawaanon se...
Relations with those partitioned farmlands,
Relations with those misguided young men...
Rishte us chamakti Multani mitti se,
**Rishte us damakti Pakhtunkhwi **** se...**
Relations with the glistening soil of Multan,
Relations with the bright snow of Pakhtunkhwa...
Rishte Ganga ke us Bangali muhaane se,
Rishte Sindhu dariya aur samudr ke us mel se...
Relations with the Ganga's Bengali estuary,
Relations with the confluence of Indus and the Sea...
Rishte us Balouchi kapaas se,
Rishte udhde un kapdon se...
Relations with that Balouchi cotton,
Relations with those clothes torn away...
Rishte luti us izzat se,
Rishte mari us bahu se...
Relations with the disrobed honour,
Relations with the slain bride...
Rishte jo sajaaye the mandap mein,
Rishte jo likhaaye the jannat mein...
Relations decorated inside the temple,
Relations written in the paradise...
**********
Aug 14, 2019
Aug 14, 2019 at 2:10 PM UTC
My body burns to rove far from man-made
buildings, prisons for the modern soul.
I need to traverse the frontiers white man stole
from those who made it their home.
I've been down to the Everglades of Florida.
Fan boats flew through the estuary lines with roots
of mangroves. I've been to the Hoh Rain Forest of
Washington where fog descended on the shoreline
and married the sulfur smell rising from hot springs.
I must experience America's coast to coast beauty.
Every spare seconds I spend luxuriating in the
sun, thinking of all the places untouched.
My list of desires grows as the glaciers
of Glacier recede in Montana, beckoning
me to the Rocky Mountain Peaks.
Old Faithful gushes, surrounded by wolves and grizzlies.
Someday I'll cross Yellowstone's expansive mountain ranges.
from Idaho to Montana to Wyoming. On the arches of
Utah I'll face my fear of heights and find solace at
the tops of time-layered sandstone towers.
Descending the Grand Canyon I'll study beautiful
colors exposed by years of erosion. In winter
Death Valley will be braved. The lowest and direst point
will exhilarate me with scaled creatures as sand
dunes whisper my name with every hot breath.
The Badlands of South Dakota will hope I come
backpacking through prairies to watch precious bison roam.
California Redwood trees and I will stand side by side
as friends. Yosemite will call me to her cliffs and I will chase
waterfalls and sequoia groves until I've seen it all.
I ache to explore the terrain that bears
my name, the country I call home.
Apr 26, 2014
Apr 26, 2014 at 1:09 PM UTC
and today
on this day of
your birth
I am ******
down into
the rhythms
of all that
we have been
until this moment
the biting rawness
of new ebbs
the saddened veins
that vibrate
like used, worn
guitar strings
the curve of
your fingers
that once played
upon my skin
your weighted down aura
that I can no longer penetrate
and buoy up
and here I stand
all glowing light spirals
my head whirring
in mystic opulence
my gaze pulled to
the reverence of stars
my purity of river
in a swoosh
around my waist
that gurgling clarity
of liquid
pooling me in sacred
cleansing
that I must now take into
another rush
of estuary
and as I raise my arms
to the heavens
I almost fade
into the floodlights
of time
and my tears
push through
my skin
like the clear
jewels
of
salvation
Jan 13, 2017
Jan 13, 2017 at 2:54 AM UTC
A perfect love would be
An estuary...
People say if its meant to be
Then it will be
People also said that there's fresh and salty
Different waters... Different flows... Different tides
I want a love like an estuary
For you and me
A place where that river can kiss the sea
It doesn't matter whether fresh or salty
Whatever race, religion or country
If its real love, then it's meant to be
Traveling far and wide
In order to unite in one tide
Yes, most definitely!
I desire a love like an estuary.
May 8, 2015
May 8, 2015 at 4:53 PM UTC
Love, we must part now: do not let it be
Calamitious and bitter. In the past
There has been too much moonlight and self-pity:
Let us have done with it: for now at last
Never has sun more boldly paced the sky,
Never were hearts more eager to be free,
To kick down worlds, lash forests; you and I
No longer hold them; we are husks, that see
The grain going forward to a different use.
There is regret. Always, there is regret.
But it is better that our lives unloose,
As two tall ships, wind-mastered, wet with light,
Break from an estuary with their courses set,
And waving part, and waving drop from sight.
2.9k
Take my hand stranger,
for thy hand fits perfectly in mine
for there is no reason to be insecure
The lines of our hands cross each other, floating rivers meeting, like an estuary, passionately touching, but never perfectly fitting (as real love should be)
Our nails glancing to each other; the same happens when your blue eyes meet my greenies
Our skins stunning each other, blushing, softening the insecurities they both feel
Our joints silly wrestling with each other; O the subtle touch of them
Take my hand stranger,
for thy hand fits perfectly in mine
for there is no reason to be insecure
Oct 6, 2014
Oct 6, 2014 at 1:12 PM UTC
The air is slow and still
faint puttering of the last barge
shunting coal downstream
city on the edge of sleep, settles
city on the edge of night, darkens
stretched steel and stone relax
cooling to a grey relief
reeds and sedges ripple
under bridges
and on the edges of the river
city in the gaze of moonlight, sighs
city in the haze of moonlight, slips
in the steady wash of tidal waters
and the brackish water of the estuary
come the bodies from the shore.
© M.L. Emmett
Mar 18, 2016
Mar 18, 2016 at 5:51 AM UTC
Away from the white Stork feathers
Often seemed to be gentle breeze
On Kans grasses
Superficial white clouds
Small dinghies on the river
To navigate the life
Far away on the bridge
The Silent movement of the Brahminy kite
Southern breeze blew
Tilting the tall grasses toward the North
Leak of the light fell into the Kans,
Into the Soft green grasses
Sunlit mingled with light fog
Seek heavenly feeling
Without the knowledge
The lips Stir of
Walking beside the river
Barefooted
In the air Kestrel's mystic music
The river running with full of chime
What are the forms of you!
Thee bind me with deception!
What a Strange tune!
What those thirsty words!
So that I draw your image
Moving away from the shadows
Soft light blended with the estuary
Away,
Little by little,
To see your face
Like the rig of Ship
Behind the path
A magical dream
Seems like a White Shirt
That I had left in the Kans grasses
Mar 13, 2015
Mar 13, 2015 at 11:33 PM UTC
Icicle heart
I can't tell if it's cold outside
Or
I'm froze inside.
Icicle heart,
melts to raise the sea levels,
Then we drown in tears,
defeated by fears,
we see Devils,
The water is clear,
but crimson cold.
Your
cool calm and collected,
so level headed,
After all this years,
It's the apathy you feel
that makes fools of us.
Now there's swimming pools of regrets,
when
Icicles melt.
A cologne of shame,
pungent in the air,
carried by breath,
to pollenate the common class,
this
Icicle heart,
can never last
at least without
changing state
as
the landscape moves like a bad mood,
but the worst has passed,
and we backtrack.
Scrap that,
Take me back to the start,
Dinosaurs,
reptilian nature,
evolutions mistake,
Are you down for me and
My icicle heart,
melts into the stream,
and down the river it seems
an estuary divides us,
as we reach the sea,
impeach beliefs,
and the buoyant
keeps
my
icicle heart,
afloat,
I hope you feel me.
and
however it may seem,
you were nothing less
than a dream,
nothing more than a
drop in the ocean to me,
and
my
cold cold icicle heart.
Mar 7, 2016
Mar 7, 2016 at 12:23 PM UTC
I dream a million fireflies transporting me to this space
A Moon shadow casts a light upon my face.
A Young boy dreaming of tight lines on this Kinderhook NY stream,
Water droplets on frozen fly line, cast a prism sunbeam.
It's this time and special place that etches a constant memory,
Of Standing on that rock casting tight loops across the estuary.
Practice makes perfect as I make a presentation towards this riffle,
I can see a smile on my face, a moment in time that's purely transcendental.
With hope on the rise and a pheasant tail nymph tied to my tippet,
I make my way past the roily water to a calmer spot I'll inhibit.
Stripping line I load this feather chucker and place a nymph on the breezers nose
Zzzzzzz screams my reel and I scramble to fight this foe
As the snow begins to fall, I gaze upon this look of contentment in my eyes
And hover from above to watch myself learning to fly.
I whisper to myself, " Man life doesn't get any better than this",
As I kneel to release my catch, I watch him glide into the abyss.
And at day's end, I find myself walking beside the memory of Lou, Theodore, and Jack,
Three mentors who showed me the way, part of my Wulff pack.
Some Say "if I fished only to capture fish, my trips would have ended long ago",
And now I have something that money can't buy, the gift of learning to fly.
Sep 13, 2016
Sep 13, 2016 at 2:55 PM UTC
My rail tracks seem to have disappeared
Only the red autumn leaves seem to have covered
A cold melancholy in the air hovers
As I look beyond to see what uncovers
But the truth is that it is an endless journey
There’s no special place ahead, no sanctuary
Just the train, and the passing estuary
The destination seems lost, as I realise it was only imaginary.
Now I yearn for meaning.
What is this train journey,
Where is it leading?
Maybe it’s better to just hop off
And enjoy it from the beginning.
Apr 2, 2021
Apr 2, 2021 at 9:23 PM UTC
Watch how the white birds float
On fjords, eternally reposed—
The rustles will whisper
how they keep pristine composure:
"Follow the glassy estuary streams,
where swans sleep quiescent darlings
of their ivory shrouds."
Oct 24, 2016
Oct 24, 2016 at 7:55 AM UTC
The maiden with the bitten heart.
The chiselled one made out of ice.
Melted by a super nova.
From the starkness.
Out of darkness.
There so appeared the peeping green of snowdrop leaves.
Little white flowers trying hard to scratch the surface.
To bridge the pain of what once was.
The river simmers.
If water were able to burn,so sure they should be burning now.
Running beneath the bridge.
The bridge that sighs under the weight of the world.
The water holds it's passion tight,
So be it, let it burn.
just before it says goodbye.
Sends it to the estuary
Running wild
frothing free.
May the sea freeze.
Amen.
(C)LIVVI
Oct 14, 2014
Oct 14, 2014 at 12:39 AM UTC
Submerged in the empire of your tide
Trying to feel unobtrusive, let me saturate
Lips filling with the brine
You pop sweet oxygen bubbles
Chewing gum at its finest
Pulling candy from my estuary
Blue blood sweeps from between my fingertips
Floating face through
Eyes open into yours
The deepest tide-pools I've ever seen
Slipping into the tangle of
Your fingers
The swivel of refraction
Shattered warmth diffused in frosty capped overture
Oh to be a native of you
Never needing a map or a light or a guide
Swallowed without notice
Nothing but another wave the endless
March of tumbling reverb
The only reaction possible to your vocal chords
The song of the ocean
The simmer of the tide
Mar 24, 2013
Mar 24, 2013 at 9:39 PM UTC
dark storms rising
as electricity
crackles up my spine
in ascent of moonspell
as I trip through
my own wires
my inner sense
of flesh
reverberating
in waves of
magnetic fireworks
and suddenly
I am spinning
my fibers
all splayed out
for you to see
a cartographer
of emotion
mapping your veins
and arteries
and we hold citizenship
of a private inner land
a country
that we share
as we into light expand
my inner goddess in tune
with your
molecules and carbon
your cells rushing like
a river
into my estuary
in landscapes of longing
blissfully unaware
but for our souls'
secret language of
pumping blood and fire
from here, it's uncharted
but for the rhythms
of desire
invisible to the naked eye,
we exquisitely penetrate
the surface
descend into the
depths of bones
the most primal core
where lava licks
push spirit's will
straight up to the fore
and I am the spark in
your most opaque rage
ready
to give it up
in dust and magic
as pulmonary exhale
flows the blood
and we dissipate , slowly
into uninhibited flood
Take me apart,
dark love
pulverize my limits
fly with me
to the opposite
of loneliness
where
every
millisecond
breathes
Feb 3, 2017
Feb 3, 2017 at 12:15 AM UTC
I
Tired
the long road ends
by a sea wall
The engine dies
to cries of estuary birds
to halyards’ **** and tinge
A lake of light set in night’s cloudscape
brims over the western marshland
to seaward a dense darkness
On the ferry’s step
ear close to the brown water
a part-song sings the ebb tide’s flow
II
Threading into the marshland
a braid of cloud-reflected water
of oval sedge and common reed
In amongst the brown canes perspective vanishes
only by mind’s foreshortening or body’s levitation
is there sight beyond the creeping rootstock
By the river path a leaf
pearled with glazed dew glistening
dew grabbing the photographic eye
Standing backs to the horizon
a sculpted triad of bronzed ancestors
watch over the summer rites of music
III
This ****** field
moves clamorously under the feet
waiting waiting for the sea’s kiss
Proud-coloured the boats here
resting poised on railway sleepers
beside their tractored guardians
How to know which way to turn
which view to hold for memory’s stamp
this patient sky this slow exhaling sea
This foreground flow of white-grey-brown pebbles
each sensibly-sized for the hand in the pocket
yet substantially-singular on the window’s sill
Dec 30, 2012
Dec 30, 2012 at 4:12 AM UTC
The morning sun inaudibly arising,
Yo-yo weather, blue skies and rainclouds,
The familiar view of the long awaited landscape, evoking memories of many a week spent here before,
The warm feeling of - ‘home’
Shadows cast by clouds hovering eerily above a ‘witch’s house’, high on a mountain top,
Two hundred foot drops and winding peaks,
Dancing streams and wide lakes, the deepest shade of blue
Pedestrian cows crossing a motorway bridge,
The timelessness of the ever nearing estuary, lying in wait,
Our second home – the tin house with two doors,
Our place of wild strawberries and happiness and peace.
The estuary sand and the shallow-deep waters, as inviting as ever, gleaming as I walk on by,
The delicate beauty of fresh scented flowers, on a fine summer’s day,
Endless winding roads, following the sun trail, leading to a place far away,
Sheep on the beach, curious and shorn as the evening sun fades peacefully and the serein falls,
Evening serenity and the swell of the incoming tide,
The mystery of the island in the distance, far, far away.
Blankets and dreamscapes and tea in brown mugs,
And dinner cooked on an open fire,
The lights shining in Portmerion at night,
The noceur of the night sky, the silver-white orb, dancing gracefully amongst the stars.
Aug 25, 2013
Aug 25, 2013 at 8:39 AM UTC