"sandcastles" poems
He was the ocean; handsome, but yet, Impulsively damaged. He had a sandy heart to correspond his sandy eyes, the moon dismantled that omitted pride he carried at a dead weight; shoveling and reshaping it, so people would see a sandcastle statue assembled in strength. But his washed-up soul and unannounced insecurities were aware of its genuine purpose,
this beach alongside his pupils;
quicksand, he'll sink so slowly in. Waves in his hair like ripples on his cheeks, skipping stones land at his defeat, he left notes in bottles for you, sank multiple ships for you, because he hasn't the heart to say he's desiccating with the arrival of the stars.. Retracting scars are not too far from gasps for air, foaming words of crisis by writing in the sand, signaling a light as the last one in him died. You wouldn't understand, the calm before the storm, as valve after valve puncture him. So intoxicating as it drains him, and from within, he's drying out. Sunburns stain him, a smile restrains him,
in an inescapable drought--
Jul 30, 2018
Jul 30, 2018 at 4:32 PM UTC
During youth I was quite the collector
of ocean cretin'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.
Aug 11, 2018
Aug 11, 2018 at 6:55 PM UTC
The shivering eyeglasses lazily coating the ground
Break way to the budding of the season.
To reincarnate is to live the anomaly,
The evergreen boughs bend in the wind.
Coalescing crystals form dew on our morn
To leave a fresh taste, on lips, on tongue.
The time is imminent, but the dawn is young,
My white Orchid, born to the sun.
Simply, optically, it's to weak to touch
Unworthy digits, to blind to see.
My scarlet levees, to right to feel.
The ivory blossom, to right to be real.
Under the canopies, the shimmering outline
Moves closer until the mirror cracks
And our reflections are polymorphicly one,
Our hearts still polyamorously two.
I yearn to dream of lucid lavender,
The aroma surrounds the dream, still dreamed
The scent so real, or so it seemed
Encapsulating this moment in amber.
Until we sleep, until we fly
Together. Our wings open to embrace the quilted high.
Our mouths embrace to fill the void,
Unleash the magic, bathing us in light
Bricks and mortar overlap my thoughts
But time alone is not a wall.
Time alone, it cannot fall
And it still ticks with the beat of my pendulum.
Oh flower, oh life, vitality aplenty.
Your hideousness, a secret untold,
Withers to your beauty, yet to unmold.
Le voyage fantasme is here for me now.
And now the grains slip between my toes.
The sandcastles caress the glass of our hour.
It's never too late, but always on time,
So before the light fades, kiss me and say
"I'll sleep tonight,
I'll dream of you."
Orchid, my Orchid, love, my love
I'll dream with you forever.
Nov 3, 2010
Nov 3, 2010 at 7:39 PM UTC
"Daddy look at all the sandcastles"
"Aren't they all so grand?"
"Who could have known a king and his throne,
Could simply be made out of sand"
"Look at the beautiful towers"
"I wonder if a princess lives there"
"I'll bet she is kind, they're so hard to find,
With beautiful long flowing hair"
My daughter loved to go to the beach
She loved the sandcastles the best
But she didn't know her heart was too slow
And soon they would open her chest
It's funny sometimes how time can fly
It only seems like yesterday
There was a major complication with her operation
And my daughter has passed away
I still go to the beach from time to time
To see the sandcastles on display
I still close my eyes and part of me dies
Each time I hear her say
"Daddy look at all the sandcastles"
"Aren't they all so grand?"
"Who could have known a king and his throne,
Could simply be made out of sand"
Jan 19, 2013
Jan 19, 2013 at 3:55 PM UTC
Every night you fall to pieces,
Wish you were someone else,
Whatever it is it freezes,
Watch them, the sandcastles.
Reflections in the mirrors tell lies,
Wish you were someone else,
Watch them all die as flies,
Watch them grow, the sandcastles.
I’m invisible to them,
Wish you were someone else,
You over power them,
Watch them rise the sandcastles.
You make the change,
Wish you weren't someone else,
Read your list to burn their names,
Watch it grow, your sandcastle.
With power comes force,
Thought you had known so well,
Can you feel any remorse,
As your sandcastle, it fell.
Aug 22, 2013
Aug 22, 2013 at 10:17 AM UTC
A ship in a bottle is a useless thing,
encapsulated, isolated.
It is meant to be crewed.
We are each holographic captains
seeking first mates
and yeomen to climb the riggings
and guide us through the storms.
Floating colonies needing founding,
battened hatches guarding dwindling
stores and shielding superstitious
sailors galore.
We must learn to trust our
crews and captains alike to
brave the rough seas and
coral reefs of life and
nature's faith.
Sometimes ships run aground,
the founding of the colony,
and then sandcastles reign supreme.
We must learn to trust our
crews and captains alike to
learn from their faith in nature.
We must build upon the dunes,
carrying buckets of water and
trust from the sea to inland
shores. The castle, like the ship,
will one day be reclaimed by the
sea, despite our efforts.
We build them anyway out of hope,
fearing faith, learning trust, while
wishing we were safe in a bottle.
Nov 12, 2013
Nov 12, 2013 at 8:23 AM UTC
The coastline I walk, I walk not alone.
Solitary strolls, I do not condone.
I'd rather walk, hand in hand,
With you my love, upon the sand.
The pier we see reaching out
Into the ocean, gives no doubt
Of our love's walk off into the sea
Where we drown in the depths of our eternity.
Let not the waves disrupt our affection.
Wake in the comfort of our perfection.
Though gulls will call and sandcastles fall,
You will remain my all in all.
May 10, 2014
May 10, 2014 at 10:54 AM UTC
Looking at my album,
Of a picture taken,
Long ago built,
Sandcastles,
Made from child dreams,
Of sand and water,
On a shore play day,
Using hand shovel and bucket,
Scooping sand,
Mixing with water,
Hands molding,
A child’s fort takes place,
With dreams of fierce battles,
Slowly afternoon tide comes in,
Washing against castle walls,
Reclaiming its precious sand,
Waves invade,
Hand prints disappear,
Molded mounds fall,
Those castle forms disappear,
Soon they become just a memory,
Forever caught,
In a Kodak moment,
Have you ever made a sandcastle?
Jan 30, 2012
Jan 30, 2012 at 8:21 PM UTC
Dear ******
I ******* hate you
I ******* HATE you
You ******* rot my loves
Inside out
Leaving death holes and track marks
Killing their teeth to Swiss cheese
******* nodding to sleep in the back seat
I ******* hate you
You ******* double crossing *****
You make them love and forget
Til then don't anymore
Cold and shivering
you leave these "outcast junkies quivering
To steal for their next 2 minute fix
You ******* stole my loves from me
Through their noses
Inhaling your bitter vinegar
Shooting your warmth
I'm so ******* sick of you killing the kids I use to build sandcastles with
I ******* cry how you've infected old friends and lovers
Dear ******
I ******* hate you.
Mar 4, 2014
Mar 4, 2014 at 11:10 PM UTC
i’m sorry your love does not fit into my junk mail
and that i will not become a hoarder for you
you say you’re disgusting
but i think you’ve rubbed yourself raw against my skin
until your bones have become protruding branches from your body
the blood that used to circulate through me
has now turned into sand
you punctured my lungs and i started leaking beaches
there are no sandcastles, just chunks of broken seaglass
just pebbles and bugs and dirt
you can’t shield me from the sun, i’ve already been burnt
so now when people step on me
i burn back
(a.m.c.)
Apr 29, 2014
Apr 29, 2014 at 8:42 PM UTC
I paint a picture non obscure, antique
A snapshot heart sees
Both love and clay
Up there’s a castle
And maiden fair
Who plays about a sandbox
And gold streaming through the air
Hearts hug
And hands care
Soft voice as light
Caresses within the obscure
Of darkness and pain
Destroying all but which is love pure
Laid upon my feet is too once clay and...
Waves are crashing
Upon the infinite sandcastles
By the little sea
And fair maiden
Who lets it be
Jun 10, 2012
Jun 10, 2012 at 9:31 PM UTC
"shop closed"
**the sign never sat
perfectly on any hook
or nook
or cranny
you are an echo bounced
perfectly in every hook
and nook
and crook**
"considered sold once broken"
**consider it done
once dealt with the devil
his ornamental fairies
consider them whole before
they were bought**
"trespassers will be prosecuted"
**bedsheets spun out of cobwebs
sandcastles spun in of air
floorboards swallow you in
you dreamt of
anchoring yourself
to the ground**
"wine house"
**lustre of turbulent pirouttes
trapped within the walls
of wine glasses and
wine-stained dresses
in cadavers' masquerade**
"emergency only"
**they pushed you in the operating theatre
and cleaned their hands with soap
opera
amputate these phantom limbs
pain has been the only anaesthesia**
"in loving memory of"
he is the protagonist
he is the antagonist
and all stories end
(with)
the former
Jan 14, 2016
Jan 14, 2016 at 9:36 AM UTC
Sweeten, let’s, a coast of dun
Therefrom which, the tides erode,
A castle to blind the mighty sun
Affront to that Poseidon, and others
On the beach.
***** the walls and battlements
Fair crystal arm the turrets
The audience of the hermit *****
Pay silent homage to the throne
Intricate are its libraries, etched
Our history inside the tomes.
Only grains of perfect stock
From which antiquity, in full credit,
Will revere the lot
And poetry of human might
Shaped and forged to kiss the day of light
Only that may suffice.
In this endeavor, no ancients will tenet
Its salty beams but the children of the morn
For we shall build the universe
From when progenitors are born.
Before it began, we were dismayed
Our future, castle, by waves waylaid
Aspirations sink, now, from shape.
But, Gods, I curse you!
Let my destiny rise free!
Look now before you:
A stone in ocean of mediocrity!
All these that build up forts
Lack in that spirit to fight, retort
**** you, **** you, waters of my doubt
Turn false the shades of realism
Which I thought it all about
**** you, **** you sands of time
For now all that founds my dreams
Is erosion of the shoreline sand.
Aug 25, 2014
Aug 25, 2014 at 9:54 PM UTC
making sandcastles at the beach while being basked by the sun
quickly turned into doors slamming so hard that the room vibrates
laughing until our ribs felt like they would burst
quickly turned into insults that would rot my soul away
jubilantly screaming on rollercoasters and squeezing hands tightly
quickly turned into punches and threats
smiles that shined brightly with purity and joy
quickly turned into tears that i'd find myself drowning in every night
being daddy's little girl
quickly turned into being the one that got away
Feb 2, 2021
Feb 2, 2021 at 11:19 AM UTC
Roses are hidden in buckets
a child could put one in her hair, a child could
create sandcastles up to their knees with
such. Yet these
creatures do not use his or her thorns
to intercept the road from garden to factory lines.
Funny to think one's skin shall
became tainted by something
that sleeps in peace right outside. Then, I think
about packing man into a bottle of mist
and would like to harvest my love's breath.
Aug 4, 2013
Aug 4, 2013 at 4:29 PM UTC
sandcastles haunted
by the ghosts of ancient *****
moon-pulled tides whisper
May 13, 2013
May 13, 2013 at 6:07 PM UTC
There was a void.
Then there was light.
There was his voice.
His touch which made me quiver.
His fragrance that lingered
Like the dew every morning
Like the dreams that kept coming back
Like the waves that washed away sandcastles
Like the wind which bent the daffodils on the sidewalk
Like a phone that kept ringing.
Like the letters left unanswered.
The birthdays that kept coming.
His voice rang in my head.
Like a beautiful symphony that would be the end of me if it stopped.
A thousand pictures lying on the floor
Do I even recognize us anymore?
Like seasons that come one after the next
Like the unassuming traffic i see through the window of a hotel
In an unknown town
On an unknown date
The calendar has failed me
I need to stop tasting you on my tongue
Like a pill I can't swallow
Like a high I can't get
Like a breakfast in a picturesque town, left unfinished
Like words of a foreign language I can't seem to pronounce correctly.
Every time I close my eyes, I think I forget.
And then there is a void.
Jun 9, 2015
Jun 9, 2015 at 12:51 PM UTC
I am tired of building sandcastles; pouring heart and soul into time spent together with the enthusiasm that comes with newfound infatuation. Building relationships like sandcastles, artfully crafted with a mixture of chemistry and compassion to form beautiful and wondrous things alive with imagination with the hope that one day the proper name for it will be that elusive and all-inclusive word "love." I spend that time in a strange mixture of hard work and yet effortless way things fall together, and each castle is as different, unique, and beautiful in its own right as the next. But time spent as Queen with my King companion is shortlived. The tide sweeps in and away, and the castle crumbles and in time there is not a trace of the hallowed halls that once were the home to invested emotion. Sometimes I am left with the nagging doubt whether the castle was ever even there. Sure i remember my hands in the sand, my hand in his hand, the towers in the sky, the look in his eye. But with no evidence, no trace I begin to think it may all have been a lovely and then depressing dream. The sand lays at rest for a time but then it begins again, because I have love to give and love to share and I see the potential in the next prince to build a castle greater than the last, forgetting all about the ruins that have been swept away by that sea. No I'm tired of these sandcastles, as exhilarating and breathtaking as the adventure into architecture is... I think I'm ready for a house made of stone, I want to build a place love can find a solid home.
Feb 10, 2012
Feb 10, 2012 at 3:10 PM UTC
The ruler comes down from on high
Dragging himself along the earth
Insulation going up like confetti
Take cover, take shelter
Ice the size of softballs
Comes streaking from the sky
There’s nowhere left to run
Huddled under the bridge
And then a sound like rushing water
Feels like a freight train overhead
We weep and cry and gnash our teeth
As the trumpet blares
Drove down Telephone Road
Where it crosses the highway
Sandcastles washed out to sea
Old bills put through the shredder
Nov 2, 2013
Nov 2, 2013 at 12:50 AM UTC
Once
I built a sandcastle
and showed it to
the ocean.
I had made sure
that every detail was
perfect—
working as hard as I could
to keep it safe,
because all I ever wanted was
for it to last long.
The waters hardly noticed,
they were far too concerned
with their own purposes
to even bother
with my effort.
When they crashed at my feet,
it sent the best kind of chills up my spine—
but that only happened
if it was convenient for them.
They'd never go out of their way
just to find their way
to me.
Sometimes I would try
to go out to them,
wanting the seafoam
to rush over my toes
and the cold spray
to splash into me.
But sometimes they didn't come.
The waves went back out
and wanted nothing to do with me.
The next day
I returned to the ocean.
What I found was that
in a matter of hours,
the waves I had
loved so much
had taken the chance
to destroy.
The sandcastle that
I'd worked so hard on
was completely gone,
without a trace,
nothing to show for it.
You wouldn't even know that I'd
tried in the first place.
You and the ocean have a lot in common.
Sep 4, 2013
Sep 4, 2013 at 1:11 PM UTC
My community is like a day at the beach.
The warm water melts away the ****** seagull calls
As we build sandcastles large enough for the biggest
And most ridiculously hard to say umbrella that we can
Manage to stitch together from our broken homes.
We play volleyball with our hope
The biggest beach ball we can muster
Our net constructed of ally weave
And it’s got flames and it’s super bad-ass and ****
But nets are only nets
And nets can only do so much
You can’t play games without
The people.
We ride jet skis away from sharks
Sharing the strong towers
Of our middle fingers
Because **** sharks
I know only some of them are dangerous
But after you see a body floating in the water
Like a buoyed tomb
It’s hard to forget the biting.
The net asked us once
Why we never have a funeral
I guessed that it didn’t realize that
We don’t have the time
To bury all the bodies
That’s like
Asking us to count the sand
Like telling us to collect the waves
Like begging us to dry an ocean of tears
But
These aren’t tears
They are a body count
These aren’t sickles of sand
They are our ancestors’ ashes
These aren’t warm waves
but walls of black blood
And it’s here
Amongst the ashes
And blood
That we build our sandcastles
I look around in mine
It is insulated in white
The black blood
Only begins to broach
The moat outside
If I never bothered
To look
I might never see it
How much time
Must we spend in
Our sandcastles
Before we can
Smell the blood
Outside
How deep do we
Have to dig our holes
Before we silence the screams
Outside
Why are we just
Looking at the walls
Why aren’t we looking
Outside
We are not royalty
We are not arbiters of
Ash and blood
This is NOT a
Game
Net’s don’t matter when
All the players are dying.
How many sandcastles
Do we have to build
Before we remember
The stone riots that
Built them
Be spiked heel shoes
Be rock and brick
Be broken windows
Be shattered bone
Raise your fist against
The biting tide
Swim against the sharks
Until you bleed enough
To drown
Them
Be blood
Be ash
Be broken homes
Be ****** murals
In the street
Be white sandcastles
Then tear yourself down
Until you get back to the
Stone Walls of your foundation
You know what, ever mind
**** sandcastles
They seem too much like sharks
anyway
Oct 30, 2015
Oct 30, 2015 at 8:18 PM UTC
Don't waste your days away
write bad poetry
I mean absolute garbage
and draw stick figures
with squiggly lines
and paint with your fingers
and laugh when you ****
and blame someone else
for the terrible smell
and sing and scream
whenever your driving
to wherever you may be driving to
and stay up too late
and get up tired
and nap
and sleep through church
or at church
and snore really loud
and day dream
and live dreams
and when the nightmares come
enjoy the fear and the rush
and the pouring sweat
on your forward
as you wake up screaming
but don't look out the window
because there isn't anything
out there that is more scary
than your imagination
and make a deal with the devil
and cheat him his dues
and leave a rubber corpse
on your death bed
and live another day
and out run the sun
and give a butterfly the moon
in exchange for
the hidden treasure map
painted on its wings
and hang that map in the sky
to cover the hole
where the moon used to be
and don't worry
no one will notice
because they look exactly the same
and ask the stars politely
not to tell anyone
and don't forget to say please
and thank you
for stars never ignore a request
for a favor that is asked
with a manner of grace and kindness
and build sandcastles
to close to the shoreline
and watch the waves
wash the towers and walls away
and listen to the mist giggle
at the mischief it has done
and fold a boat
out of the song
no one else can hear
and give your hopes and prayers
to the wind
and sail away
and find yourself
and lose yourself
and give time and love
your full attention
and no matter
how bad things may ever get
or how good things may ever be
I will always be a fool
and a dreamer
and a magic bean believer
and I'll write you bad poetry
really bad
absolute garbage
whenever you need
because I can't think
of any better way
to waste my days away
Sep 10, 2017
Sep 10, 2017 at 9:19 PM UTC
As winds blow
And leaves scatter
As cracks show
And unions shatter
As fires rage
And trees fall
As pawns stage
And heros stall
As mud slides
And homes give way
As truth hides
And pseudonyms stay
As hope dies
And brave men stumble
As tides rise
And sandcastles crumble
We hardly even notice...
Mar 31, 2017
Mar 31, 2017 at 2:50 AM UTC
oh, the air is sweet
the sun is hot,and the waves come crashing in
on my sand castle
and the sky is blue,
and the gulls cry out
their grateful song
for a perfect day
for a time for building
castles in the sand
for a moment in time
for a memory
cj 2016
May 4, 2016
May 4, 2016 at 7:50 PM UTC
sometimes my anxieties are like intricately built sandcastles. i have been known to worry and fret over these sandcastles for hours, even days, at a time. i will collect millions of grains of sand and sloppily sculpt them. they are not usually beautiful or special or anything worth my time at all, but i continue build these castles. it’s like i have to. if i stop, what else is there anymore? what do i do? there is a sandcastle for all of my worries, all of the things that shiver beneath my chest for too long, anything that leaves my bones aching after all of the clocks plead midnight.
a year ago i was sitting on a sun-painted beach surrounded by two thousand sandcastles. the wind was beating the breath out of my lungs. the ocean was far off, so far i could hardly even see the dancing silver waters. i kept building them. i was tired and i was crying and building these hideous sandcastles of anxiety with my bare hands. people would pass me by, briefly, shaking their heads like i was something broken. i was miserable. i was always alone and i did nothing but build sandcastles. a year ago i was sad but no one knew why. a year ago i was sad but i didn’t know why.
but now i know you and the ocean is much closer, i can see it pushing back and forth all hours of the day and feel its song, because you are the ever-present waters that collapse my anxieties. i still build them often, but you continually take them away from me and they are forgotten. i do not know where you put them. i just know that every time i speak to you, you extend your long arms around them and they crumble. most of the time now it’s just me sitting on wet sand as the white-wash curves of your waves swallow every one up. i make you laugh and my anxieties sink. every new worry i have, your edges swim to the shore and carry it off. no matter how quick i try to build them, every time i blink they will be gone. i don’t know how you do it.
sometimes i think about joining you in the sea, but i’m scared. i don’t want to lose that part of myself. i’m afraid of what i won’t have anymore if i leave this fragile collection of crumbled sandcastles behind. i’ve fallen in love with the call of the sea and the storms that it brews, but i can’t abandon land just yet. your waves silently ask me all of the time but i can’t let go of this just yet.
i hope one day, when i’m ready, the ocean will gently carry me away, too.
Apr 29, 2012
Apr 29, 2012 at 2:19 AM UTC