"sandbar" poems
son spreads knee blood into ******* &/or
sidewalk chalk.
mixes reds to pinks with head cracking asphalt.
of god & country.
of soggy bread in a lunch-bag; snackpack readied.
he skates.
the concussed ****** of booming youth.
omega he:
to the wolf pack outers.
breathing love of summer, he
is the son drunk on hi-c
& burping.
watching teenaged supersoakers yodel
on a bridge.
florida.
son sneaks out late to rationalize
the city’s features
under strange light & love of nightly people.
boy sculpts body out of beast,
turned dark corners.
arrives swollen.
his father erects a roofed flattop in the backyard slab
with flood light electronics taught to worship
the shred.
mother rattles the blender
on the kitchen outskirts, ***** breathed
& nearing with hugs.
blister-itched.
glossed folds of scar tissue.
those days on summer-beyond when the neighborhood pulsates.
with satellite dishes tuneforking high-frequency vibrations
from outerspace & pigeons explode.
son’s ears bleed, &
the television goes unwatched.
he snaps plank & ankle protein, refurbishing
his legs into iron-rods
or wands of summer anthem.
cold war.
he empties sugar-sweat & toxins
into the storm-drain.
essence of wet heat, skin pinched, & friend
of ghosts.
a three legged dog lay in the shade
leisurely watching the boy skate
on endless.
Apr 1, 2014
Apr 1, 2014 at 1:11 AM UTC
I like being underwater because it reminds me
of a different world.
Like the rim of the atmosphere, or the inside of a womb
where everything is slippery, even the past, and all
I can remember is the air in my lungs.
I like being underwater because it reminds me
of when you held me above the water as a child
that time we walked too far past the ******* and could no longer touch.
You hoisted me up on the hips that birthed me and
beatering your legs you struggled, your hairline trimming the surface
so I could breathe. And when we finally swam back onto the ridge you panted to the rhythm of the waves. Looked down at me and smiled,
“That was fun, wasn’t it?”
Fingers interlocked on the way home down the beach, where
bare feet walk on wet handlebars in the morning and footprints are flooded at night by the moon. The ability to erase but mostly
I like being underwater because I am made of water. And so are you.
And the ocean surrounds me with the salt of your last breath
felt stroking my cheek with weak, small hands waving goodbye.
You were so small and
the water is so big, yet when I’m under,
all I feel is you.
Oct 12, 2012
Oct 12, 2012 at 1:08 AM UTC
*///
After a long time from its origin,
the river has bend into two ways
it has intersected by a *******
on a meandering belt,
created an angel between two lives
One has moved toward the right,
a narrow uneven sway,
that tributary stream has flown on fight
as if it one will be die within a short way
Another, that I have traveled
the straight stream,
a simplest form of life with a distinct velocity
may be at the sea where it will be settled
but that little one has made my curiosity
Yet, I see that one
how it has gone
i think about its trend
and feel how it will be end
A boat is waiting along with the *******
i don’t know,
why do it wait and whom for!
and where, it will go!
all sorts of thing I feel when I have stood on my toe
///
@ Musfiq us shaleheen*
Sep 20, 2014
Sep 20, 2014 at 7:00 PM UTC
i lost myself in the waves of emotions
they knocked me to the sand at my knees
my lungs filled with bitter salt
i crawl to a *******
to be met by a an undertow
pulling me under the water
scraping my skin on the rocks on the bottom
salt stings my cuts
the undertow pushes me back up on the beach front
the sun is warm
the breeze is subtle
Aug 2, 2022
Aug 2, 2022 at 9:14 AM UTC
The golden tinge of sun pierced the cloud
But the mangrove held onto its dark cloak
She hid somewhere between the light and shadow
When from one irresistible daze I awoke.
Unbeknownst flamed up the rocks salt white
Dry since the waves receded beyond the *******
A cold loneliness crept up in the spell broken light
As if eons had passed without the sight of her.
Then one seagull’s spriteful fish dream shriek
Motioned me up from the vacuous stupor
Buzzed each sand grain all years’ unborn speak
Was to be seized this moment and tell her.
The wind having carried the voice of her name
Spread it across the mangrove and far
From the receding waves rose a rising flame
When in her hug beneath an acacia I found her.
Mar 24, 2014
Mar 24, 2014 at 3:21 AM UTC
we used to take the kayak
down the river
behind our house
to play tricks in
the mud of the *******
and with more grace than I
thought achievable
you would cartwheel
past the highway bridge
that served as boundary
set by our parents
and you would laugh
and I would laugh
and the whole
******* world
would laugh till
dinner time
when we'd trudge in
mud swept and weary
smiling and happy
now
I can't touch the ****** kayak
it's overgrown with vegetation
and nest to dead reptiles
while older
but still graceless
I stand on our dock
thinking about childhood
seems rushed
like watching from
one of those cars
on the bridge flashing by
looking down and
then backwards
at two kids playing in mud
you're moving into real life
and me
dragged not far behind
I don't even know if you
still remember
that horrible *******
or those endless family dinners
but I do
and somehow
we both made it
you always three
and a half
steps ahead
of me
so thank you
maybe you weren't so bad
after all
Feb 27, 2013
Feb 27, 2013 at 1:15 PM UTC
Adobe skinned mimicry of light,
Piece of pebbly lunar surface fallen
To misty ******* reverse panoply,
Spiny spar of stellar tapestry
Nimbly navigating mortared limbs
In sultry sea-cellar ballet,
Rocky roofed conspirator of clams,
Swarthy pirate, silent smithy of shells.
Aug 13, 2010
Aug 13, 2010 at 10:12 AM UTC
nestled in its comfortable corner of the marsh,
lays nine-thousand acres of soggy southern soil and sweetgrass.
here the hands of the clock carelessly play a lazy leapfrog
as tranquil transformations of pidgin make for musing murmurs.
the clangor of crickets lulling the weary ears to sleep,
as nocturnal creatures nimbly parade over placid, brackish water.
rotting wood stilts sink softly into the not-exactly-quicksand,
the last ferry makes a wake while winding to the next *******
father time is in no hurry here.
Jul 26, 2015
Jul 26, 2015 at 8:28 PM UTC
An oasis in a parched terrain
A rhyme in a dull refrain
In a storm a place to hide
A ******* in a riptide.
Going down, a parachute
Monday morning, short commute.
Summer day a scarf of silk
Warm cookies, a glass of milk.
Chocolate sundae the cherry on top,
Dangerous street a friendly cop.
A sturdy rope down the abyss
Tucked in bed a goodnight kiss.
Jul 4, 2014
Jul 4, 2014 at 11:49 PM UTC
For a while now, I've had a thought swimming alongside my awareness, a fin cutting the water as I wait for it to save or **** me. Dolphin or shark? It came near enough for me to make out its shape recently.
**** or save? I know at least that it wasn't a fat guy with a prank fin and a snorkel. It closed on me and I realized what is most painfully missing.
When I am touched, it is simply that.
Dreamlike, my finned pursuer still refused to reveal its whole shape to me, and instead became the emotive image of a hand lovingly reaching for my face.
That small act of love is gone.
It means so much to me, that tenderness, that I ruined the last ship I sailed. I tore every beam apart in my search for what was just a three-legged spider deep in her darkest corner. So I burned down the good ship Treble and used the remains to float away.
I drifted to an atoll and chose a meek ******* It would certainly do, what better place to spend my remaining balance of time?
The breezes whispered and wouldn't stop.
Tides eroded and regrew my ******* until the even rhythm became inherently strange. So steady.
Evenly, unknown, eternity.
When the bottle washed up, I jealously guarded it from the ******* I should not have called the ******* Wilson.
Apparently Wilson controlled the weather.
Several gales and at least one hurricane punished my foolish hide. But the bottles kept coming, encouraged by the raging.
Shortly after, I learned to surf.
Well, I wasn't good at it. And Wilson didn't approve. It only took a little inclementation to sweep me away. If Wilson did control the weather, she must have been exhausted by then.
What a flimsy board.
It was my shield, held wearily up against the hungry ocean. Before my encounter with the amorphous beast, I was just drifting, again, unsure what quixotic urge took me so far.
And then the fin arrived.
**** or save?
Mar 23, 2015
Mar 23, 2015 at 1:10 PM UTC
step into the surf.
waves surge over your ankles,
unexpected speed, threatening push.
wade thigh-deep on sea legs,
digging your toes into the sand,
timing your steps with the waves
as earth and moon play tug-of-war.
the drop-off slingshots your heart into your throat.
making slow progress to the ******* --
you're unfamiliar with this marine rhythm.
the ocean knows you don't belong on this dance floor.
stand up, fighting riptide, undertow.
side-tackle weakened waves
hitting the ******* like brick walls,
each an oceanic supernova with whitecaps imploding.
surrender to one,
let it ****** your feet from under you,
immerse you in its raging swansong.
it traveled a thousand miles to die
on this insignificant strip of coastline.
Jan 13, 2015
Jan 13, 2015 at 11:37 PM UTC
i.
we crossed the river
avoiding the worst of
the strainers and yet
you pinned us against
a boulder almost midstream
ii.
i leaned against the wave
hoping to avoid getting
pushed under
slowly we spun against the side
and emerged to shoot across a
bow wave
iii.
i turned to cheer you for
clearing this first hazard
only to see the oars drift past
and you were gone
iv.
we pulled into a *******
at the next eddy
to laugh and scout
the rapids below
v.
i walked back, wading on the
river's edge, a view downstream
showed me eternity, the river flowing
to the sea, and yet,
i could see my feet on the stones
of the riverbed
May 4, 2012
May 4, 2012 at 8:49 AM UTC
in her shallow ******* of a life
she's nursed off spite and envy,
the spice of her existence
an fm radio playing
just to drown out her thoughts
on a drive she took
late in the eve
to look out over where the dam
holds the water back
the cool calming black
of the night
reflected off the stale water
that now sat still
Nov 29, 2020
Nov 29, 2020 at 12:00 AM UTC
My father taught me to swim
by holding my small body
tightly
and stepping off
the highest ledge
at Horses' Heaven,
indifferent to my pleas
for release, to play safely
with my sisters
on the ******* below.
I had time to notice gravity
before the cold river
swallowed us
and as I fought
to keep him from slipping
through my stinging hands
he let go.
It was a long, dark panic.
I'm still afraid of the deep.
I wonder what learning to love
might have been like
had I learned to swim
in a shallow pool,
with a patient teacher.
Jan 3, 2011
Jan 3, 2011 at 8:33 AM UTC
*come here beckoned the sea
though I have receded beyond *******
come awhile to be with me
low tide has taken me far.*
my eyes pierced the haze saw beyond her crown
glinted in the tidal greed narrowed in longing frown
the heart pumped and the feet itched it is not that far
her kiss and the saline hug veiled behind *******
what if it's just a dream and much more is at stake
going there for her embrace gathering wispy flakes
may seem unworthy on waves the wishes' ride
she would reveal none or little she would only hide.
what if it's a trap her feigned bait alluring
the hovering mirage before touch would fly away on wings
the shining buzz of the haloed night drowsily winking stars
they all know I mustn't yield to travel beyond *******
I could hear the deafening voices coming from shore behind
they chorused *be alert of pitfalls of a tempted drunken mind
too long cocooned in comfort zone can no more go that far
come back pick up the broken pieces this side of *******
Dec 20, 2013
Dec 20, 2013 at 4:05 AM UTC
The ebbing sea had retreated when I reached the beach
She was afar though the ******* lured me to reach
I had no choice but to cross the lagoon
Half-merged in water wading in the rippled moon.
What delight it was when I was on the other side
Behind me the channel before me the silvery wide
Above me wispily spread an ethereal band
I stood on the cushion of softly sparkling sand.
I could joyfully die holding them in my eyes
More I couldn’t take more I couldn’t surmise
The agonizing beauty was an unbearable sight
There seemed nothing more to live for beyond that night.
In turning back I knew would be no rejoice
But I had to retrace I had no other choice
Afar waited faces in the waning moon’s shadow
My feet were heavy in the return tide’s flow.
Sep 2, 2013
Sep 2, 2013 at 4:08 AM UTC
Such a happy whale
I am
Staggering
Out of the *******
With a new friend at my side
Dark is the night
The moon, the stars
Lighting our way
Over the sands of time
Our hearts a racing
Urgently
To take the plunge
To go deeper into the unknown
Stopping to sight see
The sparkles in each other's eye
Welcoming are the movements
On a wave
The shrill of the wind
And a wake of white water soon rising
Carrying, carrying us home
Logan Robertson
7/29/2019
Jul 29, 2019
Jul 29, 2019 at 6:34 AM UTC
Come to me my love,
On a ******* overlooking a weightless ocean
Where the grains cover our toes as they depress the sodden ground
Come to me my love,
In a deep dark forest with vegetation thick
Obscuring the sacred path
Where your hand guides me along an animalistic route, savage like we once were
Come to me my love,
Atop a skyscraper in a great city of lovers
Where steam flows from the vents and you hold me watching the sun spread across the buildings
Come to me my love,
Aboard a ship placed upon an ocean blue
Where the past floats to a new future, and you kiss me at the bow
Come to me my love,
In a ***** Dachau of human existence, clawing to survive
and bread the most valuable commodity
Where our bread molds because neither of us is willing to eat until the other is nourished
Come to me my love,
To the Hindu wheel of all the pasts before us
Where our only struggle was to find each other and the only life is a future
Come to me my love,
To a moon soaked room, windows opened after a rain
Where man holds the key to unlock a sweaty night of groping, grabbing, salty licks
Come to me my love,
Your head laying on my pillow
a golden cataract spilling like the waters of everlasting life
Where our blue eyes meet and all the pasts’ spring forth to our future
All the places we will go become clear
All the kisses we will share are repeated
The breeze bumps our skin and with the softest lips you say
“I love you”
Aug 18, 2017
Aug 18, 2017 at 7:05 PM UTC
I want to be a poet.
To have words
so forthcoming
so forlorn
so foreign
that they strike
your ears perked
and echo
beyond
the white noise
that surrounds us
I want to pour mountains
in to your eyes
so tamed
but so enticing,
and always just a little
bit beyond your reach.
I want to be a generator
and fill you up
when i see your eyes
being to fall below
your depression.
I want to brush my fingers across
the bits of skin
that stick out
and make you squirm
but cause you to smile like
when you see the sun
for the first time
after a rain storm.
I want to be the wind that
runs across your collar
causing you to turn
closer to me.
I want to collect your warmth
in a jar
and carry it in my knapsack
so when I need
a totem
to get me through the day
I can open up
a little bit of you.
I want to capture
that glimmer in your eye
that tells me I am worth
so much more than I imagine.
I want to paint you onto
every blank canvas
though no rendition I
could every re-create
would have not even
half of the life
I found in your heart.
But i could try.
I want to be your first drink of water
After being in the heat.
trickle down your throat
like the tickle of a feather
leaving you wanting more
and yet fulfilled at the same time.
I want to be the glove that
fits around your hand
so that I could hold you
all day long
and hold your
heat inside your palm.
I want to be the cloud
that catches your attention
Finding shapes in me
connecting the lines I
have lost along the way.
I want to be the snowflake
that sits on your eyelashes
as they bat up and down
fluttering the kisses
of a butterfly to every
passerby.
i want to be an island
in the middle of your sea.
isolated but not alone
because I am surrounded by you.
I want to be the wave that breaks
upon your *******
playful banter
between the ocean and the sand
swirling in all directions
together we twist in the tide.
I want to be something to you
other than just another girl
that caught your eye
that night.
I want to matter
instead of just
be matter.
I want to be a song
That you can never stop singing
because even though you've
heard me one too many times
You are still so caught.
But now I am
the yellow light that turned red
right as you approached the intersection.
We were not made to go
in the same direction.
I want to be yours.
But everyone knows the problem
with star-crossed lovers
is that
they only cross once
right?
Mar 1, 2015
Mar 1, 2015 at 12:26 PM UTC
I stare down the beach
Past the sand
It's gradient
Shifting from light to dark
Dry and fluffy
to wet and hard
Past the water line
Where children Play
summer games
Where summer is
Still a verb
Past the tiny frigid waves
That quickly conquer
The body
Past the buoys
That trigger
Shrill whistles
For errant swimmers
Testing boundaries
Past the powerboats
Racing
towards the Weekend
Past the improbable *******
Momentary refuge
As temporary
as a beautiful
Summer day
Past the sailboats
And their
Loitering indifference
Past them all
to the horizon
An illusion
Of affinity
A paradoxical
Infinity
where cobalt skies
And azure seas
Conspire
To never meet
Aug 11, 2017
Aug 11, 2017 at 4:35 AM UTC
When. You made your mind up.
And got up the guts
To live honorably
Gave up all that game ****
Forgot all about
Who cares or don't
Anymore
And lived for real.
Its like the sky opened.
That **** dam burst
And the water washed
You clean.
On the white *******
Down the stream
I'm now king
Of all I do
Now.
And that's
All I care.
Jun 30, 2018
Jun 30, 2018 at 9:15 PM UTC
Holding my breath,
I'm floating
up, up, and awaay
darkness beneath me
I break the surface
and take a deep breath
of sunshine as I wake up
and rise up
and then i've got some
time to exist in peace.
before I start focusing
before i start noticing...
before i start getting caught
getting caught in the thickets
caught in the thicket thoughts
thicket thoughts
thickets
so now I'm trying to savor that blurry time
'cause I like to walk that blurry line
between sleeping n' leaping
from keep to keep
because life is just one blurry line
...
between sleeps
________
I pour a line of salt onto a table
and it's dissipating around the edges
and you can see the surface beneath it that
rises up like a mountain range and
I'm rising out of the ocean like a *******
performing an interdimensional ion exchange
and I'm a surface rising out of a sea of salt
and I am an ocean rising
out of an ocean rising
out of a surface
of a surface...
waking up, up
and away
Jan 22, 2015
Jan 22, 2015 at 10:48 AM UTC
Gazing out your cerulean diamonds
past the rippled shore
toward the sunrise bursting on the horizon
and you swear you’ve never felt this before.
A wave-caressed *******
where sea-winds lift the wailing gulls,
and you’re dancing to the calypso
flooded with ardor
and answering the call
for voyage on the water.
Another day and the helm is turning.
In the midnight trance, your sails are drawn.
The crew say these clouds are blurring
your painted vessel of this summer's dawn.
The mast is towering in the salty air
and the sun is showering your seaward stare.
Mar 18, 2023
Mar 18, 2023 at 3:24 PM UTC