"salinity" poems
“Moby **** Herman Melville
<•>
~for the lost at sea~
after a year of saltwater absence and abstinence,
return to the island caught between two land forks
surrounded by river-heading flows
bound for the ocean great joining
the Atlantic welcomes the fresh water fools,
bringing with them hopefully, but hopeless gifts of obeisances,
peace-offerings endeavoring to keep their infinite souls
sea accepts them then drowns the
warm newcomers in the unaccustomed
deep cold salinity, which
sometimes erodes
sometimes preserving
their former freshwater cold originality
I’m called to depart my beach shoreline unarmed,
no kayak, sunfish or glass bottomed boat needed,
walk on water and my toes, ten eyes to see the bottom,
no depth perception limitation,
reading the floor’s topography,
millions of minion’s stories infinite,
many Munch screaming
god’s foot, heavy upon my shoulders,
a daytime travel guide, hired for me,
not a friendly travel companion, nope,
God a pusher showing off a drug called deep water salvation,
designated for the masses, can handle large parties
my in-camera brain eyes,
record everything for playback -
the lost and unburied, bone crossword puzzles
walk shore to ship, on soles to souls,
is this my new-summer nature welcome back greeting?
puzzled at the awesomeness of vastness,
conclude this clarification for me of the occluded-deep,
is a stern reminder of my insignificant existence,
my requirement to walk humbly, spare my sin of vanity, and
forgive my trespasses upon the lives of others
perhaps then the infinite of my soul perchance restored,
older visions clarified and future poems
will write themselves
and sea to it my predecessors
be better remembered
Memorial Day 2018
May 28, 2018
May 28, 2018 at 11:53 AM UTC
You should never make fun of someone else’s beliefs
Where you are right now has less than a few hundred million miles of surface area
You can’t even walk on 70% of it
77 years of life on average if you’re a healthy American
That’s only 4,015 weeks
28,105 days on this small planet floating in a large black mass
You’ve already lived about one eighth of your life
Time won’t stop for you
Your days on this blue marble go by and there’s nothing you can do to stop it
Believing there’s something more is nothing to scoff at
Do you really believe that? they say
Do you really believe there is a man in the sky?
Well since you asked here’s my answer
I believe there is meaning in every day
I believe there is a point to waking up and doing good actions
I believe there is a spirit in emotion
And a metaphysical being who loves me endlessly
Yes
I believe in something more
Now it’s my turn
Do you really believe that?
Do you really believe this whole thing is a scientific coincidence?
A cosmic collision at a specific point
An explosion that created all of this
Perfect atoms with electrons that bond and share
Creating perfect cells with all the right organelles
A process of cellular respiration that coordinates as a perfect opposite to photosynthesis
All to maintain homeostasis,
the so-called “wonder process”
that keeps us all alive
Our bodies preserve an exact temperature, the ocean an exact pH and salinity and the ground an exact resistivity
To keep us all alive
Scientific coincidence
We are all a coincidence?
What about that shooting in Newtown
More than one kid took a gun to his head
and what for?
Why was that so tragic?
The shooter could have been conducting a scientific experiment
What is the basis of right and wrong derived from?
What are feelings derived from?
Don’t tell me it’s science
Don’t tell me that it’s science that makes you cry when you get dumped
Science that breaks your heart when you lose that state championship
Science that lightens your spirit when you go home to your beautiful family after a long hard day
It’s not science
It’s your soul
A soul given to you with a light side and a dark side
A soul with genius thoughts and horrid sins
Genius thoughts you should act on
Horrid sins you may commit anyway
and He will love you
He will forgive you
Will your precious science forgive you?
I wouldn’t force anything on anyone
I wouldn’t question beliefs in science had my faith in God not first been tested
I’m not asking you to believe, whether you do or not won’t affect our relations
I just need to explain
To each his own
So don’t laugh at me
Apr 16, 2013
Apr 16, 2013 at 10:12 PM UTC
The ocean has a salinity of about 3.5%
And contains mostly sodium chloride
Which is the same salt that streaks
Down my cheeks whenever I cry
But I didn't notice a difference
The evening I wandered into high tide
Despite the warnings offered by lifeguards
"The current is rough and the sand is steep"
But I was determined to wash
Every ounce of you off of me
But it seemed that no matter how many waves
Crashed against me and knocked me off my feet
No amount of water would cleanse me.
So the next best thing I could think of
Was to exhale every vapor of you
And fill my lungs with saltwater
And it reminded me of falling in love
And I drowned just as effortlessly.
Aug 13, 2013
Aug 13, 2013 at 2:10 PM UTC
I a m hungry, therefore I am - Garfield
IN prayer he will never utter
it waits for the rain of milk,
a heavy rain, because of him
the cat with thirsty tongue, see with
its own eye, when mother was disappear.
In prayer he never dared to ask
it wants a fishy fish neck,
the smell of a fisherman,
no care about salt salinity, or its own sweat.
In prayers he will never say
it expected the lap, the fire on that stove
warm, and maybe also sear.
Aug 11, 2017
Aug 11, 2017 at 8:57 AM UTC
The sea stretches tight on a slight, white horizon
unflurried by waves, by the clean, boneache moon.
The water rests awhile, passing slowly through the ribs of continents,
its deep, deep chest booming with the cries of extinct fish.
I am not dead, though the salt has lifted me out
and away, its sting green-silver like a safety razor edge.
It rubs away chromosomes, the earliest layers of skin
and remakes me pale and raw as a baby’s spleen.
The land abandons me. The last little fishing vessel
returns to its village, bearing upon its sun-slick floor
the heft of my cells, my tiny stillborn children.
I know I’ll never be a mother;
the salinity of my blood has risen steadily
these past million years;
it itches against my arteries
and calcifies in the deeper pockets of my lungs.
I tower over grassroots, vivid as a corpuscle,
drinking from the local well and dreaming of lysis.
Jun 18, 2013
Jun 18, 2013 at 12:22 AM UTC
Even a wayside **** can ignite
greater passion in the heart
than a well potted garden plant
at the centre of a tastefully landscaped plot
Even a child’s prank can be more hilarious
than all the cranky jokes of an acclaimed comedian
Even in the warble of a lonesome bird
there can be more flooding melody
than in the well tuned violin of a music maestro
There can be greater poetry in a simple ditty
than in all the lines of verse in a great epic
A tear drop may contain greater salinity
than all the waters of a great ocean
Perhaps a simple nod of head or a wink of the eye
communicates much more than a whole bunch of words
I don’t know why I love the dainty flowers of May
than perhaps the exotic lotus of the day
Don’t we love the homemade fare served with love
more than all the delectable cuisines of a posh restaurant
The small things of life thus,
prove much bigger than big things
Just as the joy of life is not always ruined by fatal errors
but by the recurrence of injurious little things,
Greatness is achieved not through momentous actions
but by the little things done in a great way
Sep 3, 2016
Sep 3, 2016 at 6:40 AM UTC
we sit here
wandering, pondering,
quandring
away the life.
awaiting the flood of
the Universal Ocean
to fill lungs of carbon
with sodium -
salinity in the tissue rising.
we sit here
awaiting Lot's wife,
to be pillar'd in a sense -
to be brined from the soul out.
we sit here
awaiting to be marbled and
pock'd with time,
to rest upon the Ocean's bed
and dream in lucidity -
and dream of the Shores.
and awaken of the Shores.
and feast of the Shores.
we sit here
awaiting in waste, in haste,
in repetition that our feet draw us upon.
we sit here awaiting,
healing of wounds thru time -
and the brambles wrapped tight
and tore of the flesh,
poxing.
limping, hobbling, waltzing on
and a blooded foot drew us home -
drew us onward.
Oct 27, 2012
Oct 27, 2012 at 4:35 PM UTC
I never met the Mediterranean neither
His bride’s land nor their aquiline nose
I saw them as shifting images
Like a pair of oily eels.
They came with the waves tumbling-
Forward from few days journey
There was no wave of anger, only an
Insecure spring of a shell-less snail.
I cannot disremember the salinity,
The stretched little boy on its shores,
Floating pieces of lost hope
And the airless nights that followed.
Dear Mediterranean, there are
Millions out there, distant kin
I don’t want those dead on rectangular-
Cement slabs, bring them alive!
Sep 10, 2015
Sep 10, 2015 at 12:46 AM UTC
Salinity is the oar of my lungs,
as I crawl with busted knees and
drag my legs across the bottom of the sea
onto an island of your heart of night.
My pale feet embalmed in your grainy shore
colouring it maroon.
Your violet light shining through my darkness.
You are my rebirth even after I've died a million times.
Apr 21, 2016
Apr 21, 2016 at 3:34 AM UTC
neptune
seated in the briney blue
hear me
i can't help but think of you
as something on the way out
salinity increasing
water's quiet whisper, bursting to a shout
no real attempts at ceasing
what we know in time will come about
here's to the future refugees
here's to the dead sure to die
here's to weather we knew once
to the tears surely to be cried
and one for the men and women in charge
Jan 31, 2021
Jan 31, 2021 at 12:42 PM UTC
Ocean waters lap against the tickling edge of my toes
Warm, salty grooves on the airways
I cannot help but soak you in, great puddle
My veins too, acquire significant salinity
You and I are on the same page, balanced
Maiden moon pulling us both to dark depths of shadow
Then back up again to silver drenched shores
Our chemistry entwined, as one
The night holding such promise
Feb 6, 2015
Feb 6, 2015 at 8:47 AM UTC
Two shades of blue, Two shades of blue
The endless Sky, a canvas painted with molten sapphire
He frittered those diamonds with no trace of frugality
The never-ending cerulean Ocean, big as your heart's desire
She undulated life, corals and sea shells, with a trace of salinity
Two shades of blue, Two shades of blue.
Two shades of blue, Two shades of blue
She is his diurnal curtain, as he opens his eye from his sleep
He is her coiffeur, as he colors her entwined hair in a shade of serenity
She is his narcissistic cheval glass, reassuring him every moment
That his swaying eyes and his murky silver mane are intact.
He is her tepid blanket, gifting her his warmth and millions of lives.
She is his lullaby, swinging him to sleep, wobbling him into a trance.
Two shades of blue, two shades of blue.
Two shades of blue, Two shades of blue
He is her, and she is him
He collects her brimming elation and gifts it to the world
She takes his sorrow, swallows his tears, until he returns to normalcy
Two shades of blue, two shades of blue
A pair of hues that will always remain estranged,
Arising to vehement debates on his excessive height versus her unfathomable depth.
They aren't parallel lines which never touch each other,
They are converging lines that will always strive to meet,
Stretching each other with all its might,
Illimitable and endless they may be, but without each other
They will remain infinite fractions forever
Two shades of blue, two shades of blue.
Nov 22, 2014
Nov 22, 2014 at 12:32 PM UTC
Each one handmade and held together with hope
From shore to shore each containing a note
Broken and flooded not all will survive
Their pieces find rest with salinity and die
With luck and good will others arrive
Please open and read them between the LInES
For when you look close the message is same
Within; a teardrop, blood clot, and ragged remains
Is inscribed a pleading for help, please be human(e)s
You may retain or refuse the option is yours
yet for me their treasure is reveled with embrace
and when opened I relate and savor their tastes
to my bottled up world that has just yet been before displaced
Jan 1, 2016
Jan 1, 2016 at 8:04 PM UTC
I heard them saying:
"she goes places sometimes".
I knew they meant I leave sticky notes on their mirrors saying "I'll be back, but don't wait up".
I knew that they meant that I sometimes take the long way home for the view, even if the view is the industrial sight where my ambition died.
I knew they meant that, there are voices in my head that are screaming at me dark thoughts, so loud that sometimes they can hear them too.
I knew that they meant I don't wear yellow anymore because I'm afraid I'll go blind; that my eyes have adjusted to the lack of light that surrounds me.
I knew they meant no harm.
I knew they didn't want me to hear them.
I knew they meant that I practice holding my breath for countless minutes just incase they catch me playing dead in the bathtub again.
I knew they meant that I read the endings of books before starting them so I won't be disappointed. I knew they meant that I'm tired of being disappointed.
I knew they meant that I am weaker than usual; that I don't wear as many sharp edges or that I don't smell like kerosene after it's been set on fire.
that I don't ignite at the sound of pistols, I just welcome bullets.
that I don't walk on the perimeter of the ocean, I just drink the water till the salinity makes me see the world in different colours.
that I'm not afraid of heights, I'm just afraid of falling.
that I wear a kind of loneliness that doesn't wash off.
I knew they were trying their best to be gentle,
but I was trying my best to be tough.
but when you light the world on fire time after time, you get tired of rebuilding walls.
you get tired of looking your best; of drawing attention; of wearing yellow.
you get tired of holding your breath, and you let in the voices.
and you take the long way home, and you don't feel bad that you didn't leave a note.
Apr 4, 2016
Apr 4, 2016 at 1:55 AM UTC
Prologue... Voyeurs Notes: Two lovers entwined in the blue black room of the ante meridian (a.m.).
Under a cutting ******* moon
he enters you
You took him in with Pavlovian drooling eyes. He took your innocence and you shrieked in dripping compliance:::
Only that sickle overseer in the night sky bared witness
to the end of my pleasant fiction
***Halogen orb
Halcyon days***
Left only with the abscess of the apparition
that was “us”
and a
Phantom pain for the never was
Perhaps she is
somewhere
quieted by enormity of it all
Life in fast forward, a fallow future, a vertical victim of his ***** ****
Predawn...
Coldness without catharsis on a cobblestone street
**she is again spread before him,
he’s already tired of her**, and again that ******* fading crescent
watches:::
she’s wishing for a flashback, a do over,
a dream of sanity before her teardrop salinity (it could’ve been us)
But here I stand eternal
Butchered by your lunar lunacy::: alone
Against the backdrop of a pockmarked sky
Dec 22, 2018
Dec 22, 2018 at 7:02 PM UTC
comfort was a long road that came to a dead
end abruptly. happiness and companionship
left suddenly with the clutch of solace. he
was left standing there in the rain, all senses
disdained. a seeing man now build to ease,
seeing the fellowship of someone that ties
knots in your throat; turns your obscurities
to seize.
distraught
at this very moment the quest for clenches
to console surrounded him with the ignorance
his state of mind was unable to control.
seeking and searching began in the
bedsheets. he found loneliness and
regret; mistake after mistake, temporary impassion
chose what risks to take. drowning in seas of
duvets, suffocation on the stench of
frictioned flesh and smothered in the salinity
pasted on each others skin like the warpaint of
ephemeral happiness, he searched down an
unsearchable road and lost his direction in the
******* forever ringing his ears with regret. each kiss
down his neck, each bite to his lip, each face-blanketing
exhale, he repents with the ignorance of finding the
will to live and love between the legs of someone who
feels the same way. the crimson crevices carved in his back
drip with remorse and sullen; hoping for once to life the
bedsheets and find an unawakened bundle of coiffure
and serenity and not calamities of regret and ****** suicide
Aug 10, 2015
Aug 10, 2015 at 8:04 PM UTC
The heavens called the ocean to the sky and released bolts of liquid lightning
With the recently renovated target on my heart, it's no surprise one found its way, colliding with my body in a splash of salinity and electric sparks
The collision ignited my every cell, sending everything into overtime
My heart fluttered rapidly, my blinks keeping tempo
Time pasted in a turn of the head, blurring the scenery into a waterlogged painting
The day the heavens called the ocean to the sky, it released liquid toxins.
With the recent renovations, it's no surprise one found its way to the target on my heart with your name scribbled in salty letters across the bullseye
Jul 12, 2014
Jul 12, 2014 at 11:27 PM UTC
She lay in rapture,
panting.
A coy
dreamy,
satisfied smile
painted her lips,
her tips were granite.
A sheen of salinity coated her body
like fine Welsh silver flake
& I licked every crevice
of her shapely form,
coaxed every delicious flavor
I could find,
listening to her screaming
& aching for more.
Aug 16, 2014
Aug 16, 2014 at 2:43 PM UTC
I dwell in the vastness of my ocean
Bathed in the sun's merciful radiance
I was formed around a grain of sand
or of history, or love, or time
The loving Lonchura lands on my shoulder
To listen to the story of my forefathers
The tale of pride and of crimson waters
Of the braves, of victory, or the rare air
Sampaguitas kiss my sun-kissed cheek
And pour its oils on my curious feet
Gumamelas gather in harmony of color
and of fragrance, of adoration, of vigor
I loom over the golden seas
Of eager waves and mighty sailors
I dance with the gleeful chanting
of the north winds and the palm trees
A little bit of all the cultures made one
From a long history of Western colonial rule
Evolved a blood of a unique blend
Of east, of west, of appearance, of culture
I am the Nacre!
The pearl of the orient seas
I shine in the salinity and bounty
In the heat of the glorious Pacific
© 2012 Maryanne M.
Jan 10, 2013
Jan 10, 2013 at 12:25 AM UTC
Because of you, I have drowned my hopes.
I would kiss your words,
But I do not hear them because you do not feel me here,
On this sad sky
Where sleeping thoughts glide.
Fall in love with my attempts,
Understand that I have nothing more.
My faded smiles seek for you
In these cold corridors of my heart,
But your steps have become unattainable, strange.
You looked at my longings,
Caught by contours that are touching
This restlessness of our non-existing breath
Frosted in your turn on some another love.
And I'm alone,
Destroyed shadows that surrounded me,
Blighted all gateways that are leading to you.
And through this wage contours now I'm sinking,
I call your eyes, to hear me,
To raise me over the hands of despair.
I no longer recognize your face,
The tone of your lips and the line of your neck.
I sank in the salinity of the pain, wondering
Have you changed the way you walk
And how much rain drops you keep on the lashes.
Because I used to know their exact number.
Jun 6, 2015
Jun 6, 2015 at 6:21 AM UTC
The sluices of the heart
suddenly open
and pour their torrents
into every atom
of my entity
filling the spirit
with an inexpressionable anguish
and drowning even the mind's
darkest and most hidden crevices
in a flood of salinity.
Jul 14, 2010
Jul 14, 2010 at 2:56 PM UTC
I can't see it coming down my eye, so I gotta let the poem cry
My head held high, but my heart is in my stomach
My stance is sturdy, but I need to take a seat
A strong man who's afraid to show signs of being weak
Holding in all this emotion, is just making my eyes even more bleak
I'm usually good with coping with commotion, but as you get older the stakes get a little more steep
The stairs get a little bit closer
My eyes are dry so the stares got a little longer
Day dreaming all night
The fight is lingering around so I'm a loner
If I let it all out i'll be more resounding then a moaner, pounding an extensive *****
I can't see it coming down my eye
It almost spilled over this morning
The image in the mirror kept it from pouring
Reminded myself that self is the only help
But if I focus too much on that notion my eyes will begin to melt
So I show my back to that reflection
I'm hunched over in the house, but when I come out I suddenly get erected
I can't see it coming down my eye
But what can hurt if I eject it?
Why do I get the feeling that I'll be lessened?
But lemme teach you a lesson, that if it hurts don't be afraid to let the water works because your feelings will be disconnected
So I gotta let the poem cry
Each word is woeful
I can't see it coming down my eye
My iris is blessed, but my fingers is in distress
All this written whimpering I'm doing my fingers are twisted signaling the west
I can't see it coming through my vision, coming through my lenses, through my ocular instruments
So I gotta let the poem whine, the poem sob, my ink pen form salinity globs
Mar 1, 2015
Mar 1, 2015 at 7:19 PM UTC
a calcium carapace,
sits upon the mantle's shelf. dreaming of the sea,
craving water and salinity.
pretty trinket ivory white,
a plump smooth bubble with cafe au lait dotted curve, leading to,
sensuous convex lip,
scintillating burnt caramel
hue.
what lived in such a
palace of the sea.
what graced the interior hall.
did it wonder,
at the beauty of it's home,
or did it only see,
the weight of the walls, pressing in.
does the palace discarded
on the shelf dream,
of saltwater
and former self.
or is it an inamate relic,
of an unregarded time,
with out measured reason, unresonating thought, unrimed.
does it know
it is
beauty sublime.
Apr 20, 2014
Apr 20, 2014 at 5:27 AM UTC
You were the ocean...
beautiful and mysterious
Absorbing the light.
You engulfed me,
in your salty waves..
Pulling me into your depths,
your beauty has became my mystery,
your mystery has bathed me in fright..
You take my breath away,
filling my lungs with your salty waters.
I'm choking on the salinity,
of the waters I once adored..
Seemingly the key to my demise
Leaving the luster of your mystery to be washed away
Your waves crashing down on me
engulfing me in fear,
whispering you threats into my ears
You claimed your waters will protect me
I never knew they'd have to protect me
From you.
Mar 21, 2016
Mar 21, 2016 at 10:33 AM UTC
*I do not complain the slow singe
Of sun above our heads, nor
The blue berserker which is before us,
A thing of beauty and treachery,
I do not mind the moisture, the salinity,
Beads of sweat, eloping with the spray,
Diaphanous and are one, escaping us,
Departing into thin air.
I would trade all energy, the distance
Of this journey, the labors of our feet,
Just to witness you, the black bird
Of brows I love, surveying the horizon,
Those teeth of linear pearl, or the red
Gates of kiss immortal, all risen
From the summery sshh of heat.
There's nothing that would equal
The squinting of your eyes, those
Thinning of the stars, the doubled
Supernova, which now are phoenixes
That are not born, burned, nor are revived,
But carry death, my death, my only,
My life.*
© 2015 J.S.P.
Nov 30, 2015
Nov 30, 2015 at 6:19 AM UTC