"overboard" poems
Friendship is built upon the foundations of
Unique and quirky first impressions.
It is not brought together by what others
May say or recommend,
It is not brought together by a Rubik’s cube
Or the use of super glue—
Friendship is just what it states!
Two or more ships brought together
To become one friend—thus the
Creation of Friendship!
It involves a raging sea of betrayals;
Of innocent white lies; of going astray;
Of being in the wrong place at the wrong time;
Of hatred and envy.
But Friendship is strong
And it prevails over anything above all else;
And when the bonds of
Friendship is that strong, nothing between
Friendship should ever; could ever be wrong!
However, you do get one or two that goes overboard
The bow of Friendship and are forever lost at sea
Hoping to be picked up by Cecrops, the Lost Mariner to
Remain forever a prisoner on the ship of Friends that
Corrupts the minds of truthfulness; of the One True bond
That which is called Friendship.
My ship is true and has never
Strayed from its course.
It is homeward bound towards
The foundation that which
Made it true; towards quirky
First impressions that’s unique and precious;
Back to the fleet yards and of harbors
of its creation--
The Fleet of Friendship.
Sep 16, 2013
Sep 16, 2013 at 2:55 PM UTC
At ***** Dick's and Sloppy Joe's
We drank our liquor straight,
Some went upstairs with Margery,
And some, alas, with Kate;
And two by two like cat and mouse
The homeless played at keeping house.
There Wealthy Meg, the Sailor's Friend,
And Marion, cow-eyed,
Opened their arms to me but I
Refused to step inside;
I was not looking for a cage
In which to mope my old age.
The nightingales are sobbing in
The orchards of our mothers,
And hearts that we broke long ago
Have long been breaking others;
Tears are round, the sea is deep:
Roll them overboard and sleep.
28.9k
You are my wind
You are my sun
The blood in my veins
The bones to make me stand
I've been drowning
And i thought you were my life raft
I thought you were my island
My safe place to escape
But turning away from the water
Won't make it go away
Running from the sea
Won't make it less deep
I've grown so used to finding my boat
So used to hiding from the tide
I panicked when it wasn't there
Has my boat sailed away?
The panic gave me a cramp
Tied weights to me
And I began to sink faster
How could my boat do this?
How could it sail away?
But the more I missed my boat
The more I needed it to stay
But not as safety
Not as refuge
But a love to share
And laugh and grow
I still need my boat
But not like I did before
No more hiding
No more dry land
I need to swim
Because boats are fun
And great for days
But the sea is a beast
That no boat can match
No she doesn't care that I'm a mermaid
Who fell in love with a fisherman
She doesn't care I've spent too much time on dry land
I forgot how to use my fins
A mermaid that can't swim
What a pathetic life it is
But she's cruel
She wont keep the boats around
So don't forget how to swim
Don't forget how to use your fins
We are strong us mermaids
Making deals with sea witches
Seducing men to their death
All fine folk tales
But you have to believe the myth
Always been strong
Because regardless of what Disney said
I can't grow legs
I'll always be a mermaid
But what use is it if I can't swim
When I learn how to swim again
I hope my fisherman will come back
I hope he hasn't sailed too far away
When I'm on deck of our boat again
We will dance and sing
Maybe have dogs
And flowers to remind us of land
A piano in the dining room
And guitars lining the walls
Music will echo
They can hear us from land
The happy fisher and his happy mermaid
Living together again
But storms always come
Because that's how nature works
It rains
It snows
It storms
Than the sun returns
This time when the storm comes
And makes waves that could touch the moon
And I get thrown overboard
I won't forget how to swim
I'll play with the fish
Make friends with sharks
And await the return of my beautiful fisherman
But you will always be my wind
My sun
The air in my lungs
But soon I will have gills
So I can breath when the water comes
You can't be my fins anymore
You can't be my dry land
You can't save me from drowning
Because mermaids are free
But if you want
You can be free with me
So please return my beautiful sailor
And we can live on our happy boat
And I'll be one with the sea
Because this sea is a part of me
Aug 18, 2014
Aug 18, 2014 at 11:39 PM UTC
When I was younger, I used to think I was going to be a Star.
Under a spotlight where everyone knew my name...
I was five.
Now, I want shadows and to be as far away as possible.
Hidden and far from consequence,
And even further from myself.
Where my name is not a name,
But just another word without any true meaning.
When I was younger, I used to think I was going to be a Star.
Now, I want to disappear.
I should have jumped overboard when I had the chance.
Feb 26, 2018
Feb 26, 2018 at 8:32 AM UTC
(thanx all for the great suggestions)
<!>
women who wink
drive men to drink
together, glasses clink
tattoos follow in ink
and that ain’t the only thing
~
the tiller tied & forgot,
the slip knot jinxed
the sailboat nearly sinks
~
he cries aloud “you minx!”
I’m all done in,
you’ve got me sminked,^
you winking whilst me sailing on the oceans brink
~
she smirked and laughed that slinky mink,
“clearly you are confused - I’m a lynx,
count to cinq, don’t overthink,
join me overboard into the ****
I’ll finish you off in the the kitchen sink
where drowning possibilities are next to nothink
promise, we’ll be quite in sync”
Jul 14, 2018
Jul 14, 2018 at 11:50 AM UTC
no one loves me
but they claim they care
if they really did wouldn't they see
i am falling apart
fragile to the touch
yet they keep on pushing me
closer to the edge
and they think i can take more
so they push farther till i'm at the brink
it's like they know i can't swim
but they are going overboard
and they'll be suprised when i sink
Mar 12, 2019
Mar 12, 2019 at 10:50 PM UTC
I am astonished as to how at ease you are
with the great unknown
how unfazed you are
with being lost in uncertainty
It scares me how I am willing
to toss the compass overboard
and join you
how willing I am to destroy myself
only to reform again to be
brave like you
You make me feel safe
In myself
You’ve freed me to be
capable
Mar 24, 2015
Mar 24, 2015 at 5:28 AM UTC
-
all my mistakes in life
add weight to a scale
of self-judgement–
so far i sense
a balance—
yet it feels to me like
i've let so much ballast
get washed overboard...
s jones
2022
.
Jan 25, 2022
Jan 25, 2022 at 5:57 AM UTC
- by Ashley Capps
Ophelia, when she died,
lay in the water like the river’s bride, all pale
and stark and beautiful against the somber rocks,
her hair an endless golden ceremony.
She made the water sing for her; it flowed
over her folded arms.
Not so my father’s sister Karen,
swollen in a day-old tub of water
when they found her,
needle tucked into the fold of her arm,
her last thing: a wing.
So everything went as nameless as the men
who lifted her naked from the tub,
or those who rolled her
into the mouth of the furnace,
which is what you get
when you don’t get a service,
when your mother’s years of grief turn
last to rage: I won’t pay for it.
Leave me out of it.
And even though they finally said
it wasn’t suicide; a mistake—
no one knew what to do
with all of that anger,
or in the end how not to blame her.
Even now, in her unmarked container.
*
People once believed a deeper reason, some dark secret
motivation to the way the lemmings threw themselves
en masse into the sea. Were they weary
of their lives; could they, too, despair?
Or like those second-vessel swine
when Jesus exorcised two babbling men of their demons,
driving the demons through a pack of bewildered hogs—
the way they plunged?
The truth we know now: they leave when food is scarce,
when they’ve grown too many;
believe the roads they follow
lead to new meadows, a place to start over.
I think of Karen, feeding
and feeding her veins, how it is possible
she saw us all suddenly there—miraculous
and festive on some bright and other shore,
like the life she had been swimming toward
all along, trying to get right.
Like those sailors long ago,
that tropical disease, calenture—
when, far from everything they knew,
men grew sometimes delirious
and mistook the waving sea for green fields.
Rejoicing, they leapt overboard,
and so were lost forever,
even though they thought it was real, though
they thought they were going home.
—by Ashley Capps
Oct 20, 2012
Oct 20, 2012 at 11:49 PM UTC
Have you ever seen a person drown?
You fight, muscles straining as you reach--flailing helplessly toward what you need most. You can't stand it anymore as your body screams for oxygen. You gasp-- hoping, praying this is a dream, but a searing burn rushes down your throat and through your lungs as water floods in. It shouldn't be there, you know it-- every cell screams but it's too late, the water is inside and keeps flooding in. You reach for the light one last time, it filtering and bending into bright rays around your fingers. Your vision grows dull, your muscles no longer respond to what your brain is telling them to do. The light growing dimmer and dimmer as the last bubbles float to the surface. One last ray of gold slips through your fingers... Then nothing...
It's to be expected for any animal to struggle as much as possible while drowning in the water. Some will put others of their kind underneath them, just for precious moments of rest and survival.
So what do you do when you find a person overboard, drowning in the sea of black?
Naturally, I throw the life preserver in hopes that they will grab onto it and I can save them.
Remember what I said when some creatures will force their own kin under in order to live?
Well, what do you do with a creature like that?
Eventually, it's you or them. At this point, it's natural to choose you!
Jun 6, 2025
Jun 6, 2025 at 7:19 PM UTC
camel
C-A-M-E-L
...
... (?)
...
Why?
I don't know, cause they're cool ! . ?
his favorite animal is a camel
and he doesn't know why
but i do
i think, as a kid, he read about it
in an encyclopedia
And decided, "that's how I want to live my life"
the humps on camel's backs that can store water
and they can go days, weeks, months,
I even heard years
without replenishing
crossing dry, barren deserts
carrying cargo, people
i didn't know camels wore graphic t-shirts,
crocs and cargo shorts
but he is a camel
tall and lanky
takes in tons and never gains a pound
(i hate camels)
a camel exists in the Arabian world
is in love with a Middle-Eastern girl
and they even have a miracle of that descent
He IS A Camel!
but the humps on his back
are hope and inspiration
and with just a little in the tank
he will cross a world of deserts
and bring you back a treasure chest full of dreams
but he enjoys simplicity ...
Sometimes,
then sometimes not at all
he takes things way overboard
and carries far to much cargo
but he crosses the desert anyway
i didn't know camels were such good teachers
didn't know they made such good friends
Jul 2, 2012
Jul 2, 2012 at 4:30 PM UTC
Forgiveness is the key,
To defeating your enemy.
For what power can one have,
Over a free soul?
The answer is none
And forgivness is how this freedom is won.
If you cannot forgive
Then how will you live?
To truly forgive one must not forget,
You must remember and yet,
Move forward without feelings untoward,
And not presume to judge as some mighty lord,
Or ones soul may jump overboard.
Often times this I do forget,
And this always leads to regret.
Pity the man that has fallen down,
And do not give him that disgusted frown.
Do not presume that you are any better,
For you do not know the pain that is his thether.
This you help me to remember,
As you ignite my fading ember.
Jun 19, 2014
Jun 19, 2014 at 9:46 PM UTC
She never thought that she'd get to this point
She was so far overboard that she couldn't think, couldn't even dream of anybody else
She was so far gone
So enveloped in his being
That she would sacrifice everything to be with him
Her family, her job
Her hopes, her dreams
All out the window to be with the man she loved
But she would be lucky if he never let her down
Apr 20, 2014
Apr 20, 2014 at 12:50 AM UTC
I'm homesick for warm sunshine
here come the spins
and the feeling of a face going pale
tired of staying in
I'm seasick for warm sunshine
don't rock the boat
there is a chance that I'll go overboard
cold without a coat
I'm homesick for warm sunshine
Seen the sea,
swore the snow to flee
and saw what it has done to me
Nov 10, 2012
Nov 10, 2012 at 6:13 AM UTC
I want to write something to fix me.
I want to write something to heal my wounds, to hide my scars.
I want to write something to wear that will make me beautiful. I want to sew something from words that will fit me perfectly, something that flows like linen, curves of S's fitting curves of hips, legs like L's and F's soft like lips.
I want to write something to wear like new skin, something to make me interesting to look at, to make me a poem worth reading. I want to be the one you tuck into your notebook and read in class. When you're tired of listening, tired of focusing, tired of everything, you can read a few lines off my shoulder blades, from my palms or knees, and maybe you'll feel better.
I want to write something that will make you laugh. God, I love your laugh, I'd write myself into a joke just to see you smile like that, my shoulders to set it up, collar bone to draw you in, my stomach could be the punch line and I'd have you cracked up for sure. I don't need to be taken seriously, as long as I can see you laugh.
I want to write something strong and heavy. I'll melt the letters together, weld T's to G's and K's to X's until I've written us an anchor. It'll be just light enough for us to carry, just heavy enough to weigh us down. I'll weave J's into ropes, we'll tie ourselves together, and toss our anchor overboard. No matter how the ocean writhes and tosses my words will be heavier, my ropes stronger. The anchor will hold us fast, words weighted by promises, fighting angry seas around us. No matter what, we will always be close enough to read each others' poetry.
I want to write something that will last forever. I want to set words in stone to be discovered long after I'm gone, to paint hieroglyphics on the walls of my house to be interpreted by future civilizations. "This is where I ate cereal." "This is where I showered." (Did I make you laugh? You know how I love your laugh.)
I want to write razor-sharp, white-hot points of infinite logic, and I want to write children's books. I want to write something that means anything but God, all I want is to write anything that means something.
I want to write something to fill pages, to break silence.
I want to write something to fix me.
Oct 31, 2012
Oct 31, 2012 at 2:55 AM UTC
Pull me into your ocean arms
And let me ride your waves like
A boat without any sails.
If I fall overboard
Without a lifejacket,
Let me drown in the salty waters
Of your veins;
Let me learn to swim
In your deep depths
And search for your heart
Like a lighthouse on the pier.
Oct 23, 2014
Oct 23, 2014 at 10:21 PM UTC
Sea calm,
Crew slept,
Dark side,
Sea kept,
Tide raced,
Waves crept,
Crew woke,
Sails prepped,
Coiled spring,
Waves leapt,
Overboard,
Crew swept,
Left behind,
They wept.
For the sea has no respect
For the nautically inept …
Jul 14, 2021
Jul 14, 2021 at 10:02 AM UTC
For forty days and forty nights
We had no reasons to fight
So the planet was flooded
By the warm blooded
******* soaked
Visible ******
No more cloaks
No more loners
For everyone there was a match
But here's the insidious catch
It didn't take long for people to get bored
And start cutting and crossing cords
Until we resembled a chaotic horde
For forty days and forty nights
The Earth was flooding
Until things got muddy
And clouded transcendence
In the form of independence
Our lives keep knotting together
Our lives are rotting endeavors
We were completely happy
But felt that was too sappy
We sought edgy darkness
In a world that was shark-less
We made the world we live in
By putting on shark fins
And eating those that fall overboard
Out of their relationship
We try to be their overlord
Or add them to our list
Love grants a clenched fist
When there is value to a kiss
For forty days and forty nights
We turned on Earth's floodlights
And the world was flooded by love
Until we decided to try to look above
To see nothing there
Just the empty air
There was a time when there was love
Now there is none
Only a gun
And the number one
Jan 13, 2018
Jan 13, 2018 at 2:12 PM UTC
Lennon told me Paul was strawberry
George reminded me love trumps lord
Overboard overcome overwrought
Flower child fishtailed dovelike all aboard
Come together
Get yourself together
Soldered together
Like joint dance banners painted to promote teenage ******* to youth
Tied us into our best days ahead of us
Chained to our ***** we swung like gamers
Untied to our integrity
Wrecking wreaking havoc
Ballooned on hubris
Hemorrhaging ego unlocked spewing spite
I respect good works deeds above good intentions
Road paved with broken glass
Don’t respect me when I’m gone
Tell the folks it’s OK to sing along
Let’s spend the night together
Talk all night in the altogether
Rather gather in clover and heather
Happy Ringo’s nest a featherbed
Laying lady laid cunning linguist
‘xplain to me in chiefly straight talk
Who questions whom?
Sep 23, 2013
Sep 23, 2013 at 1:16 AM UTC
She can be dangerous
She can be mean
She can be perfectly polished; pristine.
She can go overboard
She can be sad
She can also become undeniably mad.
Dec 28, 2015
Dec 28, 2015 at 9:59 PM UTC
On occasion,
I dream about drowning at least once a week
And when I drown
I always expect to choke under the pressure of the ocean
That the salt stings my eyes shut
But I am always surprised at how easily my body sinks
And how buoyant it can be under water
And it makes me think of all the slaves
Who threw themselves overboard
How they thought themselves fish before slave
Did they grow gills?
Were they grateful for the mercy of erosion
Under salt instead of whips
Did they backs bend like dolphins do?
Did they build an underwater city untouched
By brutal hands
Do they know, that I see them sometimes
The ancestors who chose water over land
And they are not bone and marrow stacked
At the bottom of the ocean
They are not corpses who chose the easy way out
I see them
They have built an underwater world from their bare hands
They laugh and bubbles exit out their mouths
Even now my family would not mourn my departure
If I were to be called by the waves
For the water has a language that some
Of us have an ear for
It is not the place of mortals to tear up
When one of us africans drown
Because to sink is to find new life
Is to be in the hands of those who control their own destiny
I know them, the water people
They call me during the night
And i don't fight anymore
I laugh with them, and live
And wake angry that oxygen can suffocate me
That I suddenly become flailing fish
That my home is not this land
That I find comfort in ocean floor
That is where my ancestors speak to me
Console me
Teach me the ways of spiritual healer
At the bottom of the sea
And it is not a dream although I wake from it
It is a reality that is bestowed upon
The xhosa shamans from birth
The western world does not have a reality like that
So they will argue it does not exist
They will be quick to diagnose my mental health
Call the act of reuniting with my own
An episode, a stress indicator
A sleeping pill prescription
These are the same people who believe in
Three day resurrection for death
But cannot fathom an african never dying
And we don’t die
We do not die.
There is life for us elsewhere.
And when we are ready
The waves will welcome us home.
Apr 29, 2016
Apr 29, 2016 at 5:50 PM UTC
I have a lot swimming through my mind everyday.
Recovery.
Relapse.
Restricting.
Eating.
Work.
Relationships.
Family.
Friends.
Appointments.
Body image.
Self image.
Future.
Past..
All at once.
But when I'm at a concert, a live performance, whether that be a symphony or a rock concert, I am free. It's when I'm full emersed in music, that when I don't feel like I'm drowning in anxiety. Standing up and dancing and head-banging to my favorite songs, or sitting and watching colors and designs sprout in front of my eyes as bows vibrate strings.
The only thing on my mind in those moments, is the music. Singing and dancing along, not a care in the world about what I look like or sound like. Who thinks I'm going overboard. Because the thing is, when I see other people dancing their hearts out and screaming the lyrics, it fills my own heart with such joy and love for them. They're having the time of their lives,
and I can too.
Jul 28, 2016
Jul 28, 2016 at 2:21 AM UTC
It seems you were always a boat
A source of relief while I drown
We sailed in the sun
Drift in the breeze
But somehow I fell overboard
And you kept drifting without me
Oh please don't let me drown
I'm choking
My eyes are burning from the salt
Just throw me a ******* rope
Aug 16, 2014
Aug 16, 2014 at 9:32 PM UTC
All work, no play and neon screens
menial tasks even coat my dreams.
Overboard in bored and a silent phone,
oh no, I think I’ve evolved to drone.
Punch in, punch out, this is the wrong route.
Punch in, punch out, a life of drought.
This technological terror
has caused life to flash in error.
For lady dollar; I can’t bear her,
as the riches are even rarer.
I’ve become a machine, to crush numbers
with no log off for needed slumbers.
Now my brain’s racing, a million miles per hour,
oh no, I think I’ve gained A.I’s power.
Punch in, punch out, this is the wrong route.
Punch in, punch out, now what life is about.
This technological terror
has caused life to flash in error.
No sudden movements; don’t want to scare her,
she’s updating with no carer.
Learning binary,
a breathing library,
processing slowly
but still a finery.
I forgot what my hands were for
they used to write all that I adore.
Now fingertips type, each key a shot,
oh no, I think I’ve grown into a robot.
Punch in, punch out, this is the wrong route.
Punch in, punch out, no one hears me shout.
This technological terror
has caused life to flash in error.
Pure absorption; a simple stare,
life’s equation could be fairer.
Learning binary,
a breathing library,
walking geometry
complete machinery.
Oct 12, 2018
Oct 12, 2018 at 10:39 AM UTC
On the floor of the river styx, frogs burrowing peer over muck duvets to watch me press like a violet between the cookbook pages of the water and the land. I went overboard-
I am addicted to the darkness between worlds.
Somewhere above me, I see the moon. She doesn’t try to warn me, she doesn’t bother reminding me that I can’t breathe. Heavy currents like snakes blur her face into fractured crystal tears that wash me over with sweet exasperation.
Sedated by the salt toward the other side, where the ferryman flips my coin and hums a tune without words about all rivers rushing toward the sea.
He doesn’t ask me why I chose this route, just grins a toothless grin
And winks
And tosses my coin into the water
without
So much
As a wish.
May 18, 2014
May 18, 2014 at 3:51 PM UTC