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PoserPersona Aug 2018
During youth I was quite the collector
of ocean ******'s annealed sandcastles
Though the hosts inside could not be cheaper,
their fleshy coats were worth all the hassles

Content I was amassing worn seashells;
monthly did this fine collection accrue
Though furnished, barren felt those wooden shelves,
as even pearls are lesser than a jewel

Still, the sand was warm; the waves were soothful
and regardless of what hollowness struck,
the beach granted a chance to feel fruitful
so long as one had either skill or luck

Alone was I, but daresay not lonely,
but I was not merry until married.
Qweyku Aug 2018
drenched in a sea of waveforms,
dancing on the ebb of a digital ocean
its crests crowned with sound

pitched upon amplitude tides      
their volume compressed;
reverberating through glass speakers
mere dots in the sands

i hear cadence...
within the music of your speech
how can it be such a many word
written, yet forgotten,
indelibly on your beach?

if we could interpret the oceans
what stories would its sea speak?
of its corruption?
treasures unreturned
to lost and found?
or of its time to give up the dead,
or of the angels that fell to its ground?


© Qwey.ku
Have I told you of how I love the sea?
A duplicitous temptress.
choosing to drown or carry you afloat.
Vicki Kralapp Aug 2012
Grains of sand along love’s shores
has called me back to life once more,
Ignited by the memory
of palm trees that float back to me.

With sweetened kisses in the sand
and dances to the Marley band.
Along with gracious friends to share
the best that life could ever bear.

Although now life is not the same
as that I’d known before the pain,
of love tossed out by carelessness
and friendship lost with all the rest

But life will not keep this one down,
I’m ready for another round
of fighting for a love to stay
and hold on for another day.

Now love can play its hand again
and take me to that other land.
Where love is all to which I cling
and with this love the dream it brings.

Of happiness and hearts made whole
created for someone to hold.
I have this promise made to be,
a secret made and kept for me.

So when that music calls to me
at last for freedom just to be.
With grains of sand between my toes
I have at last found me at home.
All poems are copy written and sole property of Vicki Kralapp.
shamamama May 17
.                                                 sea and sand,                                          .
                ­                          salt and surf, foam and
                                       froth, greet and gather, tumble
                                    and turn, rock and roll, spray and
                                 spin, cross and current,                roar        
                               and rise, crash and curdle,                mix
                            and mash, blend and bash, drip
                         and drop, pour and plunder, leap and
                     layer, mound and mist, shine and sheen, scoop
                  and scale, spread and span, fall and falter, leap and
               layer, splash and spire, bubble and brine, writhe and write
         s             e            a           w           o           r            t           h           y
reflections on the ocean surf
Osiria Melody Feb 14
Jubilant child, gently prancing to the candy store
A lollipop, chocolate bar, or a fruit paid in full
Locked door, crying river tears that make my sad
eyes swirl red, like peppermints
Mommy and daddy don’t love each other anymore

Notorious teen, aggressively committing thievery
A pack of cigarettes, alcohol, or pills paid in full
Locked door, smiling sunny teeth that make my
cheeks radiate, hurt
Popping pills like death candy
Mommy and daddy just got divorced

Apathetic adult, hating to have my own family
Bottles of colored juices, packs of funny looking
lollipop sticks, or death candy sprawled across the
table
(Alcohol, cigarettes and drugs are my friends,
how pathetic)
Haphazard mess, failing health over death candy,
coughing smoky clouds, dragon voice sadness
Mommy and daddy are dead

Harder to breathe when you’re trying to speak
through grains of sand
Found a dull romance, much more emotionless
than my parents’ relationship
Your promises of climbing mountains and
swimming oceans

Nothing more than promises, false and broken
A living dream of what it all means, withering
dignity
At least, death candy never commits infidelity, an
insatiable lover
Takes me to my grave, burying me in all
these substances



Melody
2/14/19
I drew my inspiration from admiring the sweetness of a candy store.
I don't know which spiraling circle
Was the the last straw
Or if there was  
A Needle
At All
But
I'm still
Falling deeper
Into the bottomless
Golden sea of broken glass
Until end turns time for one more
.
.
.
L
O
O
P
;


Happy Birthday Me
#my 30th birthday

Updated on 31/8/2019
_________
I spent my 30th birthday
Pretending it was my 3rd
We watched
Detective
Pikachu
With mommy
Nick and Lolly

Before that I made
Love with
My first
Man
A Moment Like This
Tanay Sengupta Sep 2018
The shifting sands obey none.
They whirl and twirl to their own will.
There is nothing that can be done.
We have already done our fill.

Tick tock, the clock goes on,
The period is coming to an end.
It is just too late to move on,
Time is really no one's friend.

It moves on its own way
Making its own path.
Turning night into day


Don't fear time
But fear its wrath.












Tanay Sengupta, Copyright © 2018.
All Rights Reserved
You know the drill, no explanations. Read and perceive it in your own way. Happy reading!
PJ Aug 2018
Why do I write
When my castles fall
And every time it takes its toll
I tried to protect it
By guarding the shore
For tides take
What ever I make


My castles are sand
I know its bland
But like my poems
I know its dry
But I always try
To make it glorious
Though  my words are not luxurious
For my words are true
No matter how plain


I will protect my castle
No matter what
Even if the tide takes It back
Cause if it falls
I will make it again
Like my poems
Will continue no matter
How much I'm in Pain
I will continue to write no matter how hard it is.
ryn Sep 2014
Like a grain trapped under the eyelid
Impairing the vision, in heart and mind
Flush it out with rivers, woeful and turbid
This grain still there; rendering us blind

Tiny and inconspicuous; No one sees the grains
Everyone's 'gifted' with their own to nurse
Doubling over we see each others' pains
Hidden and embedded within the poetry laden verse
My response to Joe Cole's - A Grain of Sand Challenge
Grassblade Dec 2013
Sledding, a white flurry of glitter
Glass trees throw soft needles a-sprinkle
A blissful silver rocket. It all flies by
Sparkles of diamond on the ceiling or sky

Radiant light, its fate to be wrinkled
by the dim labyrinth of this shining prism.
Gray aurora, dancing in the diamond rain

Iron curtains hide the truth
Glass and pains of steel, in a prism of gray
Do you see windows or mirrors?
All I see, a magnificent pane

A merry toast! To all I say cheers,
with a smile worth its years.
Lift your brittle glass as you would lift a curse.
And drink heartily from the once molten, crystal sand.

Drink the guile and drink the hate
Drink the lies of shame and berate
Drink to see that a flower in  gray
is a prism for life, not a fancy bouquet.
Umi Mar 2018
Urges through the night, a blade dancing with its mistress, discarding what has summoned up in her way alike a ****** crazed devotion,
Scarlet tears make their way down her cheek, washing the sand off as the pillars around begin to collapse alike cards one by one at the time,
Phantoms rage as a pure flower appears to commence blooming,
The warped moon embraces the shadows of such fools as it rises,
Actions with not much meaning seek their rampage as the battle field becomes frail and soulless through this sleepless night of lunacy,
When the flood of realisation arrives she will be swept away unlike the wise who make a more solid, stadfast decision. How trecious,
Does she want to take a dance with this cruel world she rampages on, are her ideals fitting for this battle she is about to win for now,
Drenched in blood and impurities of her work, her mind remains pure, innocent, not even sweating one thought to the consequences,
Mercy nor compassion are unlikely to be granted in this darkening realm, not to her dancing knife or her lunatic ****** devotion,
Time is moving, as she sacrafices her soul for her actions,
Taking another dance in this distorted dark

~ Umi
Troy Dec 2017
Oh thy paradise of fear fraught with lasting woe,
did I request thee maker of clay to mould me man,

that i might know passion, love and hate by thy hands.

Only to stand against thy Hora, and thy manipulation, as you tortured my soul..

demons in your shadows, locked behind your doors,
we all have ours..

The fear of being broken and cracked , oh maker of clay...

Even in your cold  paradise so too is fear that waits..

Lost forever i might have been..

it was her light that saved me from your hands......my muse that dances on the sand..
L Oct 2018
Im losing track of time again.

Lost in words, lost in my own head.

Theres so much to see, so much to do.

So little time.

And it slips from my grasp like how sand slips through the fingers of a clenched fist.

Theres no fighting the flow.
    So why try.
Dont bother. Youre gunna end up getting swept away anyways. Deal.

"*******, its dark outside."
Traveler Sep 2014
Pick up one grain of sand from the Atlantic coast
Carried it to the Pacific coast and set it down
Repeat until every last grain has been moved
This is but a drop of time in the bucket of eternity

In the overall scheme of the universe
We are equivalent to a single subatomic particle
Spinning sporadically inside one of the many atom
Which make up a single grain of sand
Yet the possession of our soul somehow
Makes us very significant!
Traveler Tim re to 02/19
Tanay Sengupta Nov 2018
A destroyed castle by the sea in a full moon night,
The sand bathes under the moon light;
I can hear her whispers,
I can see her cry.

The waves rush to the land,
Trampling on the sand;
As she walks away,
Her mind is a dark canvas.

With a heavy heart and moist eyes,
She soars above the sky;
The sun welcomes her with its warmth,
To a beautiful dawn.

Every day ends with a night
And every night ends with a day.









Tanay Sengupta, Copyright © 2018.
All Rights Reserved.
Beyond every storm lies a beautiful tomorrow.
dmperez Jun 2016
Imminent grainy current
constrained in flight
downward
onto
a pile of past moments

                                              /#dmperez
message me for comments, concerns, conversation,--anything :)
em Jan 2016
I wish I could say I was sand that slipped through your fingertips, but baby that's a truth for someone else.

You let me go.
You would rather be loved on hazy nights than for all the forever's I could promise you. You wanted love, you just didn't want me.

This is our truth.
Please help me improve this.
Krison Nov 2018
It was of the sand,
That found for me to stake upon this gamble of a purpose.
To onward journey, stout of heart, within it lines to draw and part
and dedicate my time to all that live and then depart.

And subjugate the sin of wait.
Dare i chance alignment.
To spite the constant vein of me.
That of constant bye.

For it was within the sands.
That truth illuminated
Divining is of destruct and of grand endeavor.
Those were lessons I to learn.
Yet warnings seen, but not to heed.

So to venture bold, embark.

Here I found myself about, a place that i not know.
Lacking proper courtesy that guides the proper tongue.
At a time of caving doubt in youth while throwing caution.
Such foolishness and acts so grave with naivete.

So of this, my letting go and future now to grasp.
Then of me to newer name and shed of me my past.

That led me to a village, shambled as it small.
Oh so sharp in all contrast,
To all i'd ever known.

And then to her so small of frame
with trouble trembling.

Did I find, i've much of want and more to givings be.

The hope I find within her eyes.
Those burning eyes aglow.
Yet shaking did i look to see, the grief she held alone.

For she with nails so black and pained
with eyes of sapphires ancient flame.
Screamed, "anne nerde"?

To this I said within my lip.
My English voice that caused such shock.
"hello", and then ,"who, you"?

And puzzled as i've not the faintest
slight that cause her hate
and run away and then dismiss
or understanding me.

That left me to the mighty awe, and my stupidity.

"Am i the image of the anger, she must see everyday,
A reminder there's tomorrow, or of horrors yesterday"?

Faintly nothing can be had, so i had chanced hello.
This is me and who are you.
And her away to go.
So i was lost to all the why,
and all who heard it so.

Then to suspect, short of counsel and left of reason why.
I shatter peace with solace small and and watch you drain your eye.

So to all that spun around
with jaws so slack with shock.
Made of this a curse and huddle?
Of what, they they took of stock?

They must be of the panic.
They must be many dead
And this is now my crucible
and now i know there dread?

" How dare i cause such great alarm? in such fleeting passing
" i said hello, only hello
and then, but"who are you"?.


All but mine
All faces white blood.

And then the moment shock!

For then i heard, "olu"!!!

"For I said, hello and who ," but she heard only death.

And forgiveness in this place
Was shown not least the trace.

Awaken this, the anger, rage  the mighty great temult.

For announced by all around  
"You utter with most care.

This place if of the teetering
and none dare hear dispair."

So please a caution with your greeting.
For broken hearts here tear

And the tokens of your kindness,
Can be swallowed up in here
Its brought to doom, this little girl by violence and it's snare
Was brought to this, by fault of tounge
bignine and shambled care.

Then better us
To purse a lip
And hope the slight be small,
The reaping can be had
But never excise fault
It is of divinty
So pray we judgment halt.
This is of the manner known
Yet are still unseen

For all the slights be large or small
None are are fully owned


And All the workings good of heart
Must be done 
and done discreet.
some of this is in turkish
Umi Apr 2018
The desert,
A sea of sand, drought and dry air under a scorching, blazing Sun,
The wind may feel alike a cut, which burns through your senses,
Relentless, the heat takes over by day, yet by night it is cold enough to freeze you if you come unprepared. Such would be a foolish idea,
A dessert of thoughts, driving into my brain, leaving ideas uncovered
Leaving productivity hidden, under the sand of hatred and self doubt
Such places, landscapes, covered by firy silicate or ice are truly lethal,
Such state of mind, covered by uncertainty is truly lethal, for ones wonderful creativity, for art of all kind, conveyed or material, if you might wander through such a land without any guide to help out,
Worry not, for after every drought comes rain, blissful rain to fertilise the soil of thoughts which will blossom in wonderous ways, to shine,
After all, motion without movement cannot be possible so try to move
A wise friend once tought me, that if you give it enough time, even a nigh impossibility becomes a certainty, even a desert could be a forest
But until then, be patient my dear, even the most deserted place, carries some beauty in it, no ?

~ Umi
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