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Maddie Jun 2015
Love is a riptide
Pulling in it's victims
Unsuspecting and at random

Love is a riptide
Struggling makes it worse
And impossible to break-free

Love is a riptide
Pushing you one way
And thrusting you another
Just a random poem


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Tharuki Aug 2018
He loved like a raindrop
but I loved like a cyclone
-
And his eyes were the ocean
and mine were tsunamis
-
but his heart was a riptide
and I couldn't escape it
.
Grey May 2016
When she held me, I felt like an earthquake,
shrapnel cutting quick to the bone.
I’m disaster, an unknown
kind of danger is the most dangerous

When he held me, I felt like a riptide,
all control ran out the door.
With the *** and cappuccinos
I felt out of place in my new home

When she held me, I felt disgusting,
every move my own betrayal.
Yes, she hurt like a gunshot
but I did this to myself

When he held me, I felt strange,
like I should give my whole self.
He never asked, I’m thankful.
I don’t want to ruin everything else

When she held me, I felt like a secret,
like I was something small and wild.
In a room of screaming children,
we were something invincible

He never held me, but that’s alright.
Someone tell him I understand.
Take it slow, like we’re new friends.
I’m alive for once

No one touch me, I don’t want it.
Stop breathing down my neck.
My throat fills with *****,
But the hands never rest

No one touch me, leave me alone.
Stop pressing on my back.
There are thumbprints on my wrist bones
and handprints on my thighs

Don’t touch me when you aren’t here.
So many years have passed.
Is it trauma? I don’t care.
The filthy feeling always lasts

Don’t touch me when you aren’t here.
Nobody ever has to know.
When you’re sitting by your lonesome
Nobody cares, you’re on your own

Nobody cares, you’re on your own
HELEN MOULE Sep 2012
******* THE LIFE

Sitting awhile
Quietly
Peacefully
The sea rippling
The waves so calm
But beneath there is a rippling
Flowing heaving
Curling
Riptide
Swirling
Pulling
******* everything in its path
Way down deep
Deep
In the depths
Of the oceans bed
Wherever it goes
It flows beneath
A rotten stagnant
Lifeless woes
Where nothing can be real
But life is real
It tosses and turns
Churns
Our lives
Upside down
Like a riptide
Way deep inside
The fear
The anguish
The panic
The pain
A love tossed aside
Way deep inside
Whilst I sit here I am letting it go
Flow, flow
With the riptide
But this riptide I am in control

© Teresa Joseph Franklin
4th September 2012
All Rights Reserved
Owen Jul 2022
And it all repeats.
Over and over
the scene plays,
the body tenses,
flooding senses,
and I'm drowning
sinking, drinking,
fighting, against my own
personal
riptide.
Wishing I'd died.
Washed up
on a shore of purgatory,
and it all repeats.
Im sinking again. I feel it. Its time to fight again.
;
AM Mar 2015
His mutters ran out like sand.

This ship is steady
this ship is steady
this ship isn't steady
this ship was never steady.

I cannot tell who is more broken,
this ship or the captain.

I know we're at riptide,
I can feel the pressure of the waves crushing my chest.
The ocean never understood love,
maybe that's why she consumes all that has loved,
all that has felt warmth.

What a delicate heart to meet the sharp tip of anger,
the crushing anguish of fear,
the drowning waters of sorrow,
the restless monsters residing in the skull.
Mattea Marie Nov 2013
I have never been a good swimmer
I can't jump in a pool
Without plugging my nose
I can't hold my breath
Underwater
I can't tread water
When the waves are high

I am drowning
In the push and pull
Of this riptide
The waters are churning
And so is my mind

We will never be
Calm waters
So we'll slip beneath
Into the comforting arms
Of numbing pain
Maybe we'll find each other again
Someday
Sam Clemens Mar 2014
You made your choice, our song is sung -
I wont speak of your sins -
  or the pull of your riptide tongue -
   not of losses and wins -

   I found religion in your eyes -
  Prayed silently for love -
Drank eagerly your liquored guise -
been drunk for long enough.
Thanks for giving me something to write about
Sunlight on my grinning face
Follows me from place to place
But it won’t do
Don’t know how long I can wait
Wandering this empty space
Searching for you

Up and down the barren coast
Listen as the riptide rolls
With so much to say
Probably what hurts the most
Is knowing when you’re so **** close
And still so far away

Once per while I catch a glimpse
Of unintended fleeting hints
To call out your name
Won’t make much a difference
Words don’t carry far upwind
It’s always the same

In the breeze
I see it’s just the wind
It’s a tease
To be at the shoreline again

Shepherd, call the sheep back home
Be thankful that you’re not alone
Round em up one more time
My, how much the herd has grown
With wool to warm your gentle soul
Leave no soul behind
Country song form lyrics, from home
Carolyn Davey Jul 2014
The veil, the veil, it coats me in labor and delay!
I tarry not by will but by mass, form, and time.
Face turned to heaven, toes to its floor I will let the sea overtake me,
As though its current could slake this hiraeth,
This riptide of yearning that pulls at my soul.
Truly, to stand before the sea is to be audience to the world.
By Quiet Nevin, July 28, 2014.
Nina McNally Feb 2018
Sometimes
Under the moonlight, I sit and have
"No idea what I'm doing now"..."'Cause I'm
Stuck in the Sunshine Riptide"*
Holding onto that feeling,
"I love you so much it's just like oxygen."
No one else gets me as much as you do;
Each day is a new day and I want to be with you.

Ready; 3, 2, 1... "You came in like a wave when
I was feeling alright; You are my truest feeling yet."
"Petulant but irreverent,
Take all your possibilities and take away the limits."
"I do the best with what I have,"
Do what you love and love what you do.
Everyday, I love you more!
2018.
McNally/Flanders, Inc.
Inspired by Fall Out Boy & my love.
Lyrics and title by Fall Out Boy.
Lamar Cole Dec 2019
She tried to pull away.
She wanted to find a new day.
She prayed to the Lord above.
To let her fly free as a dove.
But she was caught up in the riptide of love.

Their love was pulling her under.
In her mind she pondered.
Why their love kept going asunder.
But she was caught up in the riptide of love.

She prayed that one day she would be free.
And fly freely over the sea.
So that she could be what she was meant to be.
And not be caught up in the riptide of love.
ryn Jul 2014
A thousand things that run amok in my mind
Issues of present time that seem unkind
But if closely examined, this whirlwind of thoughts
Glimpses of rainbows, unicorns and gold-filled pots

Embedded within this maelstrom of uncertainty
Promise of niceties, of peace and serenity
Picturesque views of limitless artistry
Bring forth such joy and love and tranquility

Like a book of thoughts offering surrealistic images
A barrage of scenarios as I flip through the pages
Images that spoke of untold alternate endings
That is borne out of the heart's delicate beginnings

Engulfed in a blissful torrent of emotions
Caught submissive, in the riptide of affection
Frame by frame I could play, pause and repeat
Document joy and sadness, victory and defeat

Stories told that could happen in another plane
Series of eventual outcomes that I wish to gain
Wondering the things each other is doing
What is seen and what is heard, in this world you're living

Possibility of walking beside hand in hand
Dancing close, eyes in lock in a strange foreign land
Drive up into town to watch a romantic show
Sharing a milkshake or playing in the snow

Standing at your doorstep, an unannounced surprise
Bearing sunflowers and chocolates, for my beautiful prize
Running through a field, in love with frenzied craze
Lying on a mat, eyes locked in a deep, loving gaze

Two kissing silhouettes with a sunset backdrop
A scene, frozen in time that I don't want to stop
Marooned on an island, all deserted and bare
We bask in the sun and at the stars we stare

Sitting across of each other so close
In a cafe, whispering love and jousting toes
Being in love and intimate in a hot steamy shower
Sharing a Parisian landscape atop a well renowned tower

Snuggling close, sighing in the arms of my lover
Kissing through the night letting the heart take over
Cupping your cheeks, tasting the lips so sweet
Wake up sweet darling, good morning I would greet

Ferry you to work, plant a kiss that'll melt your knees
Be at the bay, together we look out into the seas
Talk on the phone and missing you right after
Texting endlessly, professing eternal love for each other

Such thoughts are brought by dreams and wishful thinking
Ideals that me give hope even when my boat is sinking
But I'll never ever stop wishing it'll all come true
Because my dreams were conjured for it was meant that I find you
oni Nov 2014
the ocean looks
so beautiful
that i forget
how to swim

and once i am
caught
within the riptide
i cannot save
myself

although now
i am not sure
that i even
want to
ephemeral Jul 2014
احب نفسك اولا
(love yourself first)
From the moment I met you,
I was intrigued.
Your eyes were like
A vast blue ocean
That would pull me in
Sometimes welcoming,
Letting me stay afloat
Just long enough to enjoy myself
Other times willing me to drown
And drown, I did
You pulled me completely under
Without stopping to let me breathe
I almost died
Except I didn't die
Just as I gasped one last breath,
You helped me back to shore
Made sure I breathed again
That was when you told me you loved me
And right in that moment I wanted to kiss you
I craved you the way trees crave carbon dioxide
And you said there were times
When you wanted to kiss me
And just for a moment
I let myself imagine
I thought of your strong arms around my body,
Keeping me safe, while wanting every piece of me
Kissing the scars that align my skin
Like a map of my regrets
Wiping any tears I cried away
And that was when
You pulled me back under
you shattered every piece of my already broken heart
"I can't love you, because I'll end up hurt"
Were your exact words
And if I remember correctly,
Those were my words to you
The first time we exchanged
"I love you's"
And as I remembered this,
A riptide occurred
Riptide (n): a strong current caused by tidal flow in confined
areas  and presenting a hazard to swimmers and boaters

you were a hazard to my state of mind
You ruined what was left of my sanity
But it was when you decided to block me out
That I was finally able to realize this fact:
I was so busy trying to stay afloat, alive
In your fatal whirlpool of an ocean
In the ocean of your blue eyes
That I fell too hard for you
Before thinking to fall
For myself
Idk I like the last section (starting with the riptide) best. Feedback?
sarah crawford Aug 2016
i got caught up in a riptide today
the ocean is normally my friend
but today
i was sweeped under
forced to roll with the waves
and be dragged
i couldnt breathe
or come up for air
i struggled against the water
and when the ocean finally stood still
i had to fight to get to the surface
it felt like the longest descent
i didn't know if i would make it
but then again i didn't have time to think
my face broke the surface
and i gulped in the air
gasping and scared
i kept breathing
til the next wave came
so is life
it's scary
we don't know if we can come back up for air
and right when we seem okay
another wave comes.
but we have to keep swimming
keep fighting
keep struggling
to stay alive.
it's hard but it's so worth it.
Jon Tobias Apr 2012
I tell the rain beneath her eyes
A story I know

With my forehead pressed to hers
I can feel her thunder building

She is still a natural disaster
Beautiful and dangerous

I know some things you can’t control
Like who comes and who stays
Or the moments you do everything you can
not to cry
And you burst like a balloon
Caught in the rain

I speak a story into her mouth
About a boy living in a hospital
who wouldn’t let go

So a woman came to see him
The doctors called her a specialist

She was dressed in
A calm riptide

It ****** the air outa the room
But begged everyone to stay
And drown


She rubbed his hands

Rubbed his boney kneecaps

With her index finger
She ran circles over the giant bump in his chest

The chemo goes there?

The boy nods his head
She asks him to close his eyes

He is seven
Already has grown in his adult teeth
because his child’s ones have fallen out

He smiles like a man

I want you to imagine
You are jumping on this bed

She pats the bed
Her riptide coats his skin

He imagines it

Now imagine you’ve jumped to your own bed at home
You jump so high

Now you’re on your parent’s bed

You’ve been jumping for a long time
You’ve been jumping for seven years
It will be your birthday soon
You can’t jump much longer

So you jump off
You jump off

The boy falls asleep

I tell her I slept for two days
before I woke again

Nature does not take orders

I tell the rain beneath her eyes
To fall warm, wet and heavy
I rub it away with my thumbs

There will be days when tears aren’t enough
To wash things away

You need a riptide
You need a flash flood
You need a natural disaster as beautiful as yourself
To make the dam break its promise
To never let you flood again

Sometimes even god needs to be a liar
In order to rebuild

You need to be helpless
Then when all hope is lost

You need to accept
You’re going to survive this

If only to prove that you can
First line donated by Nicole (Lady) Adams. It is a sem-follow up poem to You Must be Raining Again.
claire elisabeth Apr 2016
I thought all I needed
was self-deprecating lies
given to me in the
form of a sadistic mind.
It took me twenty-one long years
and lots of wrong for me
to see the light.
All I really needed was help,
hope and thoughts of love
washing over me,
pulling me further down
that sweet riptide.
Willow Feb 2015
All I can say is I'm sorry

That horrific day was so long ago,
yet feels like yesterday when your
tongue speaks it's name.
I replay and replay
over and over
A never ending road that I'm forced to travel
as if there is a gun to my head
and a man that says "walk".

Then there's a wave
that crashes down on me
engulfing me in it's embrace.
Dragging me under as I struggle to breathe
I'm scared
Just as soon as I reach the surface
and gasp for a breath
the riptide pulls me under again
And I return to the submerging dark sea
that does nothing
but haunt me.
If I could take it back I would.
TC Apr 2013
Scuzzy film on a scalding riptide,
Bare sinew woven like scaffolding,
Catcalling as warm-and-fuzzies
Mince by like so many exposed marble legs
Passing construction sites.
Crimped by a polaroid viewfinder,
I sit alone and click-click-click
With folded memories in my pocket.

Let me just set the record straight:
I’m still in love with our contrails,
But you can go **** yourself.
We were helter-skeltering kids
Rivulets of caustic devotion
Sweltering down our skeletons,
Fly away with me again, please
I’m seeing synonyms for you
In every ally-cat hymnal
This gutter throat can sputter out
Seeing scarecrows bound by wicker muscles
Shivering in a windfarm
Powered by all those doors you slammed
Snapping together like worn
Rubber bands warm summer hands --
Dance with me, you were
The most perfectly human
I've ever felt.

Is that Listerine rolling out of your mouth
In waves of empty bottles once meant for me?
Off of your shoulders like a cape,
A swindler, eyeing you
Like you’re trying to sell me cutlery.
Exchange glances that are
Trailmix crumbling between couch cushions,
Rubbing shoulders with waspy relief,
Tendrils of comfort had me gripped by the biceps
Spread eagle like a petrified starfish
Till I lashed out at you with bullwhip arms
Because my own back had been too hard to reach lately,  

Mirrored
Ad Infinitum.
Your tongue looks like a mirror,
Stick it out at me,
We always did look more than alright together
People stared on the subway,
Called us starry-eyed without a trace of irony.
Back in the day when you made me happier
Than something I don’t even have a metaphor for,
Just happy. Happy needs no metaphors.

I still check my reflection every once in a while
Never know if we’ll collide again anyway,
Best to be prepared but instead I
Drift aimfully towards a catacomb of eyelash wishes
And equally corny ******* I never believed in,
Still don’t,

It was getting at us, though,

Rubbing sandy fists down to the core
Instead of holding hands
Crunchy apple shell
Skin friction,
Bite the seed,
1,000 angry pomegranate teeth,
Chapped lips like crustacean shells,
Aligned like eye-freckles
Me looking like an unused punching bag,
You somewhere off in the distance,
A fading marble of plasticine light
On my wavering horizon.

Because yeah, you broke my ******* heart
You were novacane cruel and selfish
And so immature it stunned me
But you also taped it back into my chest
On the day we met so I guess we’re even.

It’s funny, already I can’t quite remember your voice,
the shape of my name in your mouth,
how you laughed,
but every word  you ever said
is still carved onto the back of my hand
like a roadmap towards all the ways
you showed me how to love myself.

Still rubbing them away with your scalding riptide,
All those words you said about forever,
Now just shackles,
So gladly did I submit to yours,
I still hate those ornery devices
Even now when,
They’re curled at my feet
Like broken wings.
Kushal Sep 2023
Words fumble from my mouth.
I don’t know what I’m saying.
Just run on sentences for this role that I’m playing.

Lost and without a trace.
I seem to be stuck in the same place,
Running at a faster pace,
As the faltering smile fades from my face.

Where’s my heart?
It feels lost to the panic of the mind.
Slowly but surely, the sands fall,
And I begin to unwind.
Unsure of the direction inside,
And lost among the spiral that precedes the ******...
I wonder if I could pull myself from this riptide.
Jazzelle Monae Sep 2017
An open letter to those who have dealt or tried or whichever with me during my depression and/or anxiety.

I wish I could stop. I hear that a lot. "Just stop." As if it were a switch I can turn on and off at my own will. If I could, I would've disabled that switch the minute I learned what the on was designed to do. If only I could stop if only I could

"Think positive" I hear that the most. I didn't think of that, nor did the twenty something people before you. As if I haven't dived into the deep end of positive affirmations for the riptide of negativity to pull me 20 times under. For every positive thought, my brain's defense brings up 20 reasons that the positivity isn't real or won't last, or my favorite, why do you even deserve to be positive.

I don't forget all the times you've said "people have it so much worse." I am so ungrateful for the roof over my head and the food I get to eat or the daily drinks I use to muffle the voices inside. I hate the privilege of having my friends and loved ones look at me through foggy lenses and lend me their advice. It comes from the bottom of your heart but it doesn't come from experience.

Oh and how can I forget how I'm acting like this out of attention. I promise if I wanted the attention, I would get it in a manner much more humorous instead of a pitiful pit stop of a parade I feel some of you think I am. I am not trying to guilt you or appeal to your pathos. I much prefer to evoke your happiness with jokes that mask the constant desire to not even exist.

Then it comes down to the people I've bared my mascara streamed, tear soaked, bare souled self to. I'm talking to you. The one who I know won't understand but I at least expect to be there. Because I know that when you only deal with it once a month it isn't a problem, take some asprin and put a ****** in and it's over before you know it. God forbid this curse drowns me for a week or two or three. I'm sorry to put a damper on your life. The one where you chant the positives and get on with it. You have the choice to leave. I don't.

I don't surrender to this illness. "I'm not a vicitm" I repeat constantly. I'm not trying to make up excuses as to why it's okay to act like this. I fight every day for a little breathing space, and sometimes I am consistently losing battles in this civil war for my own mind. I apologize that you bear the burdens of being on the front row sidelines of this imax screening of my life.

You see, when the anxiety is over, and the food I haven't eaten for a week is molded now, depression takes stage. Right on cue. A constant back to back showing for boys and girls, it's fun for the whole family. But even like the longest movies of our life, there are intermissions. I sometimes get to step outside the theatre and am reminded that it's still sunny outside, that there is a fresh breeze. I can hear my own thoughts for a moment and they aren't trying to **** me. I am reminded that I have people I love and who love me, despite every reason I have that they don't. I hold onto that feeling and submerge myself so when the next riptide pulls me under, I can somehow find myself at the surface.

Sometimes I resurface with new or stronger allies, and sometimes I lose them in the battle. Casualties of war. Those hurt the worst. The people I love the most, leaving me to find the surface alone. It's enough reason to start the next showing. Like that, I return to my stage, my battlefield, my diving board until the next intermission.
Lyra Dec 2015
I sit down by the waterfront, it's evening
the tide washes over my feet
it mimics you in every move it makes
it rushes to me then suddenly retreats -

If there's one thing I know about the ocean,
the same I will hope for your heart,
the sea always finds its way back to shore,
can we find our way back to the start?
Based on Cathy Cassidy's "Bittersweet", simply altered it slightly and posted it because this verse makes me feel things
I was just thinking about lyfe and my mind decided to run away and come up with some weird questions. Here they are!

If you were a squid, what would your favorite kind of muffin be?

If you were a riptide sqiud what would your----OSTRICH ATTACK!!!!




OH NO! Sorry. Just got attacked by an un-adhesified ostrich. I will continue now.


If you were a riptide squid, would you have a white car?

If you were a cat what would be your favourite type of human?

If you were a Cat food truck driver, on a scale of 1-10, how tasty would you consider yourself to be?

What would your reaction be if you were at your favorite restaurant and suddenly a dolphin wearing a fake mustache as a disguise, and eating a fajita appeared on your head and began to tap dance while singing twinkle twinkle little star in a high opera voice?
Just wondering. Please answer in a comment below.
Red Starr Feb 2010
You drift and pull me, drift and pull me back, like the tide
I drift, pull back, drift, pull, drift then pull
I try to stay steady, calm and impassive
But you pull, and your pull is stronger than I
And your pull is so strong, and so convincing, and it's so persuading
And you're so persuasive
I'm so convinced
I'm so
Nat Lipstadt Apr 2018
<•>
4/10/18 10:55pm ~ 4/22/18 2:02 am

Introduction

a simpler than plain fact,  
deserving reflection beyond the obvious,
containing obverse emotional mine field sonar arrays
floating on an ocean unhidden,
listening for the ocean's bleeping hid-dens,
before surrendering to its ****-sinking power of time/gravity
the better life elsewhere is always someone’s misery


<•>
confetti is just tomorrow’s garbage

someone stood on lower Broadway at 5am
watching the sanitation men sweeping up the aftermath of a super bowl  victor’s celebration, with broom heads borrowed from giants’ moustaches

passage of a single thought,
that the victorious celebrated on the parade should
a posteriori be required to participate
in this flip-side experience as
‘active cleaner uppers,’
re-enacting the famous Persian Sufi adage,

“this is too shall pass”

someone whispers we have blessed lives,
rich in the experiential, free of the dragging boredom
of the daily draining of making it, head well above of the
humanizing periodic regularizing water dunkin’ reminder
of just
or

“we too shall pass”

so even the confetti honorees must have too someone whose
life to aspire, the top of the heap, in chained food chain world

assaying perfection and the luck thereof,
picture perfect lives cannot withstand tsunamis of
waves eroding their shapes, wearing boundaries down,
do not forget the invisible invitation from the riptide
just beneath the calm surgical surficial surfacing disguises

if you face my book, will find in a later chapter prior
the fine sorry lines, the pierced titanium bulletproof vest,
the divorces of mistakes remade, the haunted envisioning,
the obligatory items that keep you awake, those awesome
responsibilities that take many small bites of a soul’s coverlet
that cannot be removed isolated jailed or desperate destroyed

confetti rained interspersed with droplets of sand grains,
this man of constant tomorrows, hopeful Mondays, bad Fridays,
is a man of constant sorrows,
pictures and poems life celebrating a never allowed to forget
lucky runs out like the string from packages saved
when no more packages arrive

when the packages no longer get delivered
oh that started years ago, when came the bile instead
of the blood’s replacement clotting factors

passing is a sometime thing
sometime is a most imprecisely defined terminus
sometime means that today’s confetti is a day away
as resurrected garbage
but nonetheless,
you are forever responsible for the cleanup


a picture worth a thousand words
but in me lives
tens of ten thousands words,
including

“this is too shall pass”

<•>
https://hellopoetry.com/poem/2467058/writers-block-kick-the-editor-out-of-the-room/
finally finished fin
harlon rivers Jun 2018
.
Red sky at morning ...  sailors take warning !!!
First dawn's light steals away over the towering Cascade Head.
A heavy autumn dew dripped from the Whaler's bow rails
as sun rays  flashed like beacons from rain-forest  headlands on high;
where Pacific Northwest rivers September equinox dawning ebb
pushed us mercifully unto the chilling stiff autumn sea breeze.
Dappled sun reigning through the pinkish purple morning sky,
patchy fog adorning the awakening inshore headlands atop the bay,
shining from the pearly gate’s mission bells higher ground ,
beckoning another fisherman lost and found at sea come home...

Heaven’s lighthouse alerts the celestial sky
of the impending eminent soul journey,
highlighting the distant horizon’s breaking swells
capped of white meringue  sea foam.
Sea gulls escort precious cargo's final voyage,
gliding gracefully in the shadows of the firmament,
our lungs filled , revitalized with the salty air's poignant elixir
Pelican vanguard's white light reflection guiding our vessel seaward ,
alone in a perfect storm...

Northwest gales standing up the ebbing tide’s uprising crescents,
waves pounding in rhythmic flow;
calling all angels!   ― my ruminating mantra and plead
The Clatsop Spit’s dangerous song resounds the stark reminder,
life's raucous changing seasons, prevailing winds beckon
with the allure of siren’s call,
that now is nearly here ...

The countenance of flowing salty tears liberating release ,  
vast ocean's raw sheets of saltwater spray would not hide .
He just sat and stared at the seaward horizon
while the telltale tears flowed,  perhaps an unspoken dream
of a merciful final surrender with eyes wide open,
love steering our vessel west where sun shines to set ;
now far beyond the visible ache,  for mine own eyes blur
trepidation teardrops rained as sheets of frothing sea.

The wordless conversation known,  the compass full circle drawn  
like the sacred salmon's cycle ends to nourish back ancient sage
unto its own mandala ―  forever beginning life,  eternally drawn
through river estuaries ― stirred by ebbing infinite tidal pull ...

There is an oppressive weight found within paternal understanding,
and yet,  as certain as the dawn promises the inevitable setting sun ;
all things must pass as sure as all things begin ,
someone you love most,  longest in short life ,
has come forth to break bread at sea as the torch is passed ,
sharing life for the last time comes too soon ― with little warning ...

There was an emotional unidentifiable hollow pang brooding ,
as if letting go gradually,  yet potentially instantly,
that drains every last drop of a breaking heart ache ;
waning strength swallows down hard ― stifled sighs ― lumps in throats, words better left unsaid ― only cleansing tears flow, knowing when they start to purge,  they might not want to stop again.

This moment's final autumn’s changing season’s waning ebb
That final riptide will forevermore change all other rivers’ flow
where oceans set mother earth's rivers free until the end of time ...

My father ― a man's man who seemed to find a peaceful Zen ;
an unfinished life was reborn that day to see it through
as my hands grasped the wheel , compass held steady.
The son to carry on the weight of love and compassionate understanding ;
love born in the blood inspired the fortitude to carry on.
As a life flashed before my eyes on that final raging Pacific sea,
instincts mused by ancient Tyees’ souls stirred drawning sun's
radiant rays of perception ;  accepting this life on earth
would never be the same but would just simply be ,
knowing this light's shine will never glow quite the same again ,
yet radiate a more deeply vivid luminosity...

We melded into that first day of Autumn,
falling silent , and yet our heads held high
There was nothing left to be done but pray with eyes wide open

“spirits of all oceans of mother earth …
show the sacred salmon's tragic heroism, the way back home to peaceful waters”

Few words were spoken as everything was silently said.

"To everything there is a season and a time to every purpose,
under Heaven"

The Outrage cleaved the surging Pacific's heave, knuckles white,
the wheel held sway,  climbing mountainous long ocean swells
breaching the south jetty's giant boulder walls ;
there rolls the mighty Columbia jaws,
where all Rivers suffuse with vast oceans, eternally free ...


.... Harlon Rivers    .... September 22nd . 2013
Post Script:
With fondest loving memories of my father's life and times shared~
So much of this day's memory is deeply repressed and each year I try to free a little bit more but each year passed has been privately circle filed, yet I try again to be set free..   Purging emotions so intense that they are nearly blacked out... I did not realize the basis of depth until later private moments... It was in fact the day of the Autumn Equinox a few years ago,  a final birthday celebration of sorts combined with bringing the Boston Whaler Outrage, home.   Dad passed 1 week later after this trip from Pancreatic cancer ...we spend the final 72 hours alone together at Hospice after his birthday..."Crossing Over"

Not unlike myself, there was an inherent restlessness to my father. We found a peace, unlike any other ― one with nature. He used to like to say he felt at home on the ocean. He went out as many as 30-40 miles alone on the rare occasion the Tuna came that close to the NW Oregon ― SW Washington coast...That may not seem like much in land miles, but you cannot see land from that distance and the Columbia River's confluence with the Pacific Ocean is known as one of the most dangerous bar crossings in the world. I thought Dad's life would have a very different ending...this one never crossed my mind, letting go is far more difficult than hanging on ― rivers


June 18th, 2017   Fragments of the Sea
https://hellopoetry.com/poem/1954243/fragments-of-the-sea/

June 12th, 2012:  Memories of My Father's Traces...
A tribute to my father ...  
https://hellopoetry.com/poem/1995383/traces-of-youa-fathers-tribute/

Thank you for reading ― have a great summer :)
M Apr 2015
the riptide drags me under
but I have a life boat, and not only that-
I can swim, and the man who holds my arms
as I cut away from pulls that I am not meant for
sick tides that bounce and roll, his name is-
well, His name is God.
Sofia Wagner Jun 2019
i would cross seas to **** your demons,
but i am afraid i drowned in the riptide
trying to get to you
What do you think I should
name the poem?
SøułSurvivør May 2017
what is death?
the maw of the
maelstrom

moribund
malcontent


SøułSurvivør
(C) 5/12/2017
10W
Glossy lost eyes meet you in the back hallway, your carrying a box to the rehearsal room and she is walking back to grab more.
Alone in the hallway, only seconds before someone will turn the corner and your moment will be a blurry memory of the 300 hall.

¨do you regret it?"She asks, voice like the sound of a mouse, You did that to her. She cant even make eye contact with you. You ruined that friendly relationship between you two.

You were drunk you tell your self, its not your fault.

You did not know that it would ruin her,

and soon its too late, another student is turning the corner, calling her name so he could catch up.

You turn away, and keep walking, and maybe if you had a little more time you could tell her:

Yes I regret it, I regret every day hurting you and ruining our friend ship over a picture. I miss your hazels eyes looking at me while you laugh, I miss it all.

but thats what happens in high school **** love.
I honestly have no idea what I just wrote, I guess its what I would want this boy to say to me right now but its not like that. okay don send nudes girls, just dont.
Sierra Apr 2019
As I gaze into your endless oceans,
I fall in awe of you.
Ripples arise with every touch of skin.
pulling me deeper with every wave.
Carsyn Smith Feb 2015
Temptation is sweet, subtle,
Like the steady rhythm of beach waves --
Not there unless you're listening and
Watching for the sly and slick riptide.
The wait is agonizing, maddening,
Like walking along shell shattered sand --
Not willing to stop and reason
Knowing the anxiety is pulling people under.
The fall is sudden, quick,
Like the rush of a tidal wave --
Relentless in its destruction and
Scattering the power lusted as the serpent rises.
A poem written for my research paper
DAEJR Mar 2013
Loving and talking to you is like loving and talking to a blackhole—
useless!
Every breath is a hot mess of wasted gasses.
Every wail is a vain attempt to be heard.
You devour everything
and let go of nothing.
I’ve tried leaving it alone.
I’ve tried letting you go.
But this grudge of mine draws me in,
a will to exhume those white skeletons
in your black closet of a heart.
Pointless;
but I’m caught in your arms
that pull me in to the point of singularity.
I know you’ll rip and tear me to shreds
and then tear those shreds to dust
and dust to particles.
My ghost won’t even be able to escape.
. . . Stay away. . .
. . . Stay away. . .
Maybe someday I’ll watch the massive riptide turn
and become a warm star I wish longingly to orbit.
Poetic T May 2017
The riptide of emotions were pulling me beneath
the crest of his eyes, I swam above them.

But never near the shoreline of emotion, I drowned
within the sand that was swallowed within the coastline

Collecting seashells of echoes of what had past,
depleted of voices collecting past misgivings on the waves.
Nathaniel Aug 2018
The persistent air pushes upon the pebbled shore while the sun warms every breath
How manly of me to ponder of every man’s proper dream even when there is no man left
He silently thinks to himself as the tiny stones stick to his feet upon every stealthy step
I will travel to bear witness to this mistress from the bare islet.

Lady luck will guide me to the lovely lady if love is luckily true
If the spirit of the island is in the land she will lead me to something new
An experience so inexperienced even the experienced never knew
What terrible terror for the townsmen who never truly took to

A relationship

Yes, that’s what he forever never-forgetting wished for
A beautiful girl in her beautiful world to walk with him on the shore
A soul to simply grow old with and solemnly swear to love to the single core
A hope filled heart hopefully was all he needed for the other half to adore

The man curiously gazed up and saw he had completed the end of the coast
He had been walking all day wondering about a woman that he barely knows
To him she seems like she is standing in his way but to her he seems a ghost
He looked out at the riptide, smiled, for he maintains the memories he had engrossed
Lunar Luvnotes Mar 2016
The beaten path is hardest to go alone but it makes one stronger. One never wants to admit to oneself that misery is the predecessor to change, ushering it like the pilot ushers the plane down upon the runway.  This is a new destination you'd never have known. That is why we go up and then down, otherwise you wouldn't care for clouds. They'd be like stop signs posted on every street of every town you can't escape from. Don't you think whales like to take a dip in our atmosphere with the same exhilaration we dive down into their ocean? Marine life has it's trials, it all seems so buoyant and peacful, but its another jungle down there. Beautiful until you live it and predators lurk every corner and algae field. Everyone eating the next guy, if its your residence, it is no vacation. Its not so simple just cuz they've not got rent to pay and corrupt politics. Babies on the way while no financial burden make most species crazy. Try being a single mother just trying to keep your kids well enough hidden just to go off to find good eats for them. They have very emotional lives out there, full of pain and suffering. If whales could get drunk, mermaids would charge and set up breweries. But the ocean would dilute any profits, and two tons of blubber each would call demand too high and so whales throw themselves into our world just to escape. They could gulp the air so low key, surfacing like submarines, instead they splash mountains with their ferve, the same way we get down, tossing cares across dance floors. And we wonder why when  they take a breath, they reach for the sky, they just want to be free, where nothing of their world can touch them. And we wonder why when it's not enough, they just give up, just like us. Massive escapists desensitizing to the joys in the depths of their waters. We wonder why we find them so sad layed up on our beaches, you see it in their despondent eye. They just want to die in that memory of exhiliration. One. Last. Time. But they're not happy. Cuz they were always chasing a high that fleetingly springed them from all worry. They lay knowing its the last time and they wonder what's gonna become of them when its all over. They just figure what lays on the otherside, or even nothing has got to be better. Maybe they're right,  or maybe all the off kilter chemicals got the better of them. Full moons got them all emotional just like us, gravity pulling all their painful memories to the surface, pulling them up out of the ocean all hopeless. Shoot maybe some of them dont even mean it, they were just so tired of the krill or baby seal murda life, or sharks poaching their babies and needed longer and longer til oneday they got too sleepy and the tide snuck down too low. Like when I pass out in the shower when it's hot enough, I swear I was about to get out..then, ****. Maybe that's why they're so ******* sad. They didn't mean for it to be over, they just got caught up in that feeling. I bet the old ones though go on purpose, just to spite the sharks that took their babies out they'd rather rot in the sea breeze they loved. Or maybe they're so depressed at the loss of their child they just want it to be over. They carry their babies in their bellies just like us, I bet they get depressed like us or the smarter dogs. Being a whale, or any sober creature can be very hard, but at least if you're not running from it, you might see through the storm for the beauty of its strength, releasing fear to just stand in awe of it. You can learn to cope with pain in at least better measure to sprinting in laps, without intention, you're just on the track, even if its as vast as the pacific, adriatic, atlantic, doesnt matter all the waters you cross, they all just ran back into themselves. See, the whale can only cope, no emotional escape route, so no matter what comes, whale is miles wiser. Their calls sound a little sad but so hauntingly beautiful. Do not beach yourself humans, in your little ways everyday. Stop feeding this disbelief in yourself. You were given this brain to choose to overcome this pain, to communicate in new ways. If you get tired of something just cuz you're used to it, you've done fell off your rock, you slipped to drown in your own riptide, to get pummeled to death. Or as my Papa woulda said, you're not playing with a full deck. You drown in intoxicant, whatever your vice, liquor, uppers, downers, shopping, food, flirting, ******* to numb life's beating. You're running from sobriety, from reality, from those people you don't love anymore cuz they can't jive with your illusions. You'll look for every reason why your psyches not the problem. If you'd not only accept but seek the need to heal,  you wouldn't need constant change of scenery just to feel something, to feel snippets of sanity, mini vacations from your daily miseries. New people, places and substances are just so exhilarating, cuz you can't handle yourself. If you could, each listed above would be blessings of oneness, not necessity. Running is only blocking your life from mattering as much as it should. You squander potential wandering in circles inside yourself. I smoked **** habitually since I was twelve, it didn't really hurt me right, just my dump trucked loads of brain cells? Wrong! Sobriety is the hardest but most rewarding excursion so far. I delight everyday in the opportunities I can receive just cuz I can think so clearly. I have an occasional shot or glass of wine with coworkers and think God I feel good. Then go home and think and plot, how can I attain that joy without consuming a dollar, compromising my body?  How can I be so at home in my skin that I don't need that just to feel like this?  I'll let you know if I ever figure it out. It's the big ******* mystery, isn't it. I THINK my point is,  we would never know what's so good to be cherished if we always had it made. They call it a beautiful struggle, and i really think they're onto God with that one. Wherever your feet lay, next time you look down at them in dismay, remember your pain is the best teacher you never had to pay.  It makes you great, it makes you an epic ******* trilogy of the past present and future.  You'll get through this day, I promise you. Whatever it proves to be to you, I pray oneday you hold the kingdom. Oneday you'll praise yourself for holding on. Oneday you'll stop running. You'll just wake up and feel at home inside yourself how the wise whale makes peace with the ocean. Tempering the binges to the surface. As above so below. You just have to find the thrill within the hand you're dealt and make yourself better for it.
When Katie gets drunk, she dances and rants about nature. This whole scenario got real complex real quick. I just picture the whale telling the other whale,  yea man I don't surface like that,  I don't hit it hard like I used to. It just doesn't do it for me anymore, I've just learned it's not worth it. Sorry i speak in circles I clearly need to learn the art of editing. But that seems daunting so fuuuuck it. To everyone in pain,  if u ever wanna talk I'm not gonna lie I **** at keeping in touch but say hi and I'll say hi and I'll remember at least to pray for u
megan Jul 2014
i am a mess of broken strings and branching neurons that will never quite reach their intended purpose and i am a creature that loves like arsenic. i am curling flames that make their way into your heart and nest there with no intention of ever leaving and this is my problem; i never know when it is time to take my inhibitions and my shortcomings and get on a bus that will drop me off in your left ventricle, where i can smooth out my broken pieces and start again. i am a bird who can't fly and relies on others to take me up into the clouds because my potential overshadows my reality and i have never learned to escape mediocrity as it chases me onto a dead end street. i am all parts and no wholes; i am all fragments that won't fit together and no amount of glue will repair my shattered sense of self or my crippled brain that loves so intensely it drives people away. i am a line so long i can't even begin to look for the front so i settle into waiting and let it become my personality, let it become my everything because here is now and there is then and the timeline of my life has never been a straight line; it has always been a zigzag of humanity that folds back in on itself despite my mumbled protests. i am not a phoenix - when i have burnt to ashes i do not wish to be reborn because i have always been a loaded pistol and embers don't mix with gunpowder (i know this because i have been an inevitable explosion since the day my mother first held me in her arms). i am a surplus of pride and shame in the form of hidden tears and crumpled papers but i have always been older than my years and the anomaly in me has never been extinguished; maybe this is why when i look down at myself, i see only marks and freckles and imperfections instead of the blinding glare of my rattled soul. i am Hiroshima with its enormous power (too great to be contained) that dissolves my judgment into fine white powder and scatters it over dead soil like a twisted mosaic on a mottled canvas. i am poison - you will know this part of me if you reach past my organs into my core where my fears rest, if you get too close for comfort and my electric fence of a heart shocks you back. i am a being that never learned to love the right way so i love all the wrong ways and if you get caught in my crosshairs from where i stand above, you should run. i never learned how to escape myself, or my arsenic heart, and this is my problem. this will always be my problem.

— The End —