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Whiskurz Jan 2013
"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"
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.
Copyright Aikin

Worked on this one for quite a while, since May actually.
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--
All feedback is welcome
So this was posted here a couple weeks ago and, when I went to revise it, it was drafted and came out as new, I guess? :)
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-*** 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
Izzy Nolan Apr 2012
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.
written april 21, 2012.
Denise M Vazquez Feb 2012
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.
ArominizedM Mar 2014
Let the sea take over the day my sandcastles failed,
Awestruck, glanced over the epitome of waves.
Faulty walls glued by moistened soil
Taken back despite my daytime toil.

Why have we gotten this far sooner?
This eventual scene hastened the need fuller.
Where have we been thus far back?
From the breeze, the promise and the distinctive tact.

Scoop of sand formed to bridges and brigs,
Mold of trail held strung by twigs.
Had I known the way the sandcastle to stand;
I may not have clung on a foundation unstiff as land.

But the dusk shows promise and fulfills a new day soon
Despite seeing the tide rush in my feet, it’s through.
I look on, breathe a sigh, moved on, carried my pail;
Let the sea take over the day my sandcastles failed.
Searich Jan 2012
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?
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.
abby Apr 2014
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.)
Sa Sa Ra Jun 2012
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
(spring 2009)

Pair with;
http://hellopoetry.com/poem/judge-1/
Chase Fire May 2013
sandcastles haunted
by the ghosts of ancient *****—
moon-pulled tides whisper
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...
Too preoccupied with smartphones and selfies
Eric N Whittier Oct 2010
The ways in which things fall apart.

Slowly,
like sandcastles,
and snowmen.
melting away,
in the rays of the sun,
the soft gentle waves.

Quickly,
like the way fire takes apart,
a paper plane.
one final blaze of glory.

Painfully,
like your words,
eating away all of my dreams.

Never more,
never more.

We fall into the stars.
silent and holy,
alone in the cathedral,
waiting to feel,
the presence of nothing.

That which tucks us in,
and tells us,
that the monsters,
are just illusions.

Is that what dreams are?
monsters?

In the dark,
out of reach,
intangible and fragile,
waiting to flee when the lights come on,
slipping away,
to the corners of our mind.

So what is this feeling then?
is it the presence,
of a state of heartbreak?
is it the absence,
of the dreams we shared?
does it haunt you too?

Or,
are you not afraid,
of monsters anymore?

Perhaps this is when,
we forget how to be children.

Stuck in a world,
of the finite and real.
alone and cold,
because we forgot about love,
and our dreams.

We took on their dreams.
the ones they forced down our throats.

Day after day,
year after year,
it only gets worse...

Once we lose the the bliss,
of endless possibilities.

Once we discover,
that we cannot be an astronaut.

Once we learn,
to accept our given fates.

We are lost.

Nothing can escape,
the winds of change.

Why then,
do we run?
and hide,
pulling the covers up over our head.

Why not embrace the inevitable?
open the window,
fly away,
and never come back.

We allow ourselves to be chained,
firmly to the ground.

We are responsible,
for our wont of love.
having pushed it out,
to the fringes of existence.

A hermit,
alone,
so profoundly alone.

He takes solace in his infinite wisdom,
and grace.
small comforts.

Wishing for just one companion.
one person,
to help conquer the dark.
with which,
they can brave returning to the cave.

But this other is elusive,
and cannot be found.
rather they must find,
their own way out.

That secret path,
hidden in the shadows,
along with our dreams.

Society tries,
to obscure all hope.
if we do not play along,
with this self imposed torture.
everyone will turn against us.

They are so lost,
that they cannot see,
cannot even fathom,
their poor and tortured lives.

They do not know,
why they cannot be happy.
why they cannot be free.
what being free would even mean.

To be truly free,
from that subjugating will.
which is itself a fiction.

They have created the overlord,
the one who sits atop the mountain ruling supreme.
they pay their homage to him,
dominating themselves.

We however,
cannot be dominated.
we will not allow ourselves,
that easy way out.

We alone can be held accountable.
for this pain we feel,
is of our own creation.

Our own monster,
roaming in the night.

Yet still,
the joy we know is transcendent.
freeing us,
from our own traps.

We see the overlord for what he is,
a monster,
an illusion,
a dream,
a sandcastle.
Copyright Eric Whittier October 2010
I know
I think too much.
I know
I maybe talk too much.
I know
I maybe dream too much.
but why even a single ,tiny,
thing I ask for.
A thing I want.
a thing that wont just end the stock,
is taken away.

as soon as you find a guy who is so gentle to you and you like how he talks and
when you begin to dream,
day dream,i must say,
he asks me,are you taken?
and obviously,I'm proud to be taken.

He just ends the talking.
is it too mean of him,or i prolly think too much.
and then all my sandcastles fall like the ashes of cigarettes .
and i watch it join the other sandgrains,
never gonna happen
this poem's too silly,idk why i just wrote it. :/
Jack Apr 2014
Alone on a silent shoreline,
sea breeze emotions paint my skin
Sands of time slip away as I count the stars
wondering why so many seem to smile,
when I don’t

Storm fence pickets stand straight,
weathered of years watching
Holding at bay the impending dunes
where my footprints once shared these moments
with another

Salt water teardrops fall,
meeting the beach in sorrow’d pools
lonely silhouettes of my heart shaped shadows
empty and vacant, longing for that one
to forgive

Disenchanted sandcastles disappear with the tide
as do these words we compiled together
never to be written again, on paper or in the sand
Now I only watch my dreams fade into the horizon,
missing you
Charlotte Hill Aug 2014
I build sandcastles in my mind.
I've done it since a child.
As the dark thoughts they do run wild.

In my mind I build.
An architect I am for it makes me feel fulfilled.

These constructions I create.
In a world filled with hate.

They distract me from the norm.
And help me through life's storm.

In the dentists chair I lie.
Building in my minds eye.

For the bus I sit and wait.
To build I do not hesitate.

I go to a place where nobody knows.
On a sunny beach the warm wind blows.

Ruffles my hair, takes away my despair.

I hear gulls call as I construct these walls.
The tide never changes, hence they never fall.

Made of sand they are, and they're in my mind so far.

Fortresses with moats, where I can float a tiny boat.
All my worries fade away as I shape my hope.

Any tricky situation or when I lose my motivation.
I'm back beside the sound once more, of the crashing ocean.
em Aug 2015
I am building sandcastles out
of the love letters you
will one day write me.

Some sand will blown away,
and these become unspoken
promises and silent words
hanging in the air
between us.

We will build our
sandcastle to be beautiful.

And we will build it to
inevitably wash away.
Poetic T Jul 2017
Could we all be insane, am  I the only
one who makes sandcastles out of
sea water just to watch them collapse.

Like my thoughts, building them
to heights that never stand up to the
reasoning, before they collapse inwards.

Am I the only one that touches my heart,
feeling it beat coldly, living externally
but dead within myself I hear copse voices.

I build sandcastles in the sea knowing that
there momentary, pretty voices telling me
that life is a dream, wake up and die already.
JP Goss Aug 2014
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.
Myriah Jun 2016
We build
sandcastles
That wash away
With  are tears
Alone
~Myriah P.Y.~
annmarie Sep 2013
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 *******
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.
Cynthia Jean May 2016
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
some of my best early memories are down at the beach and being in a creative place ...in my mind...playing in the sand
ivory Jun 2010
I am just an ignorant girl always building hope out of sand
Under the feet of destroyers
They laugh at my ambition
And stomp down carelessly
Onto what I couldn't hold together with glue

So I laid there, defeated, roasted from diglottic sun
Red and burning, confused and peeling
Waiting for the tide to wash the remnants of my failed creation
And these shells of pearless useless oysters
Away.
© AlyssiaAnderson

Awkward reactions encouraged.
Micheal Wolf Jan 2014
Find a reason or an excuse to avoid
What you feel and how it burns inside
How it effects you they can't understand
To far, to intense,  to much on your plate
They beg you to let them help, yet you escape
When really it's you, no other to blame
You made a mistake couldn't handle their gaze
Oh hide emotion because of your past
Open to nobody for fear of the out
Once knowing your weakness you no longer could face
Knowing they knew your inner most pain
For another's affection was to much to take
Then because you can't cope you push them away
Then scold yourself as you let them go
Then sleep at night thinking are they alone
Oh hushabye fool oh lament the loss
Only you could have told them you felt to much
More emotion than you could ever have known
The love they showed you was nothing you'd known
The end came silent you could no longer talk
You simply couldn't take in it's all
Now a memory, and what of the cost?
You can't repair what you, alone lost
A few lines I've kicked about without a purpose.  Looking at open emotions and trapped pain.
A battle of emotions like west side story.  Good bad etc
Probably re write it.   There gives a thought, re write.
life. To answer a question.  "Sandcastles" because like them we destroy what we build I guess.
Mariya Timkovsky Jun 2012
The sand is drenched with misty water
Falling from the sky.
My shovel cradles the clustered grains until
They are ready to be deposited
Into the security of a plastic bucket.
Once it is filled,
The infamous flip happens.

Then I am bound to lift the bucket
And embrace whatever I find underneath.
I squint, only wanting to half-look
At the potential abomination.
But I find myself pleasantly surprised;
Shivering
From the cold droplets condensing on my skin,
But grateful.
Caleb Eli Price Nov 2010
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.
© 2010 Caleb Elijah Price. Reproduction in whole or in part is strictly prohibited.
Derek Yohn Nov 2013
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.
Slur pee Jan 2018
Gritty grains engraved inside my shelled back,
I’m a hermit crawling over castles;
Making shadows shiny, grab the shellac.
Leave my remains clinging to the scaffolds.

Ima hermit crawling over castles.
Artificial whispers gusher like dreams
Leave my remains clinging to the scaffolds.
Take the screams and crush them til I can't breathe

Artificial whispers gusher like dreams,
Frothy waves brushing the seams of my skull.
Take the screams and crush them til I can't breathe;
A frail shell lodged in the throat of a gull.

Frothy waves brushing the seams of my skull,
Insert here, the words you could not complete;
A frail shell lodged in the throat of a gull.
My racing tears compete with my heartbeat.

Gritty grains crumble over my feet,
Sandcastles tend to tumble
When left incomplete.
Elioinai Feb 2016
The eye doth long for stone abodes
deep quarries birthed to speak with clouds
the earthy treasures shine in sky
and mind remember ancient odes

that unashamed forethought
for children long born after
the ones who burned their strength away
to give two thousand better lot
with wisdom, warmth, and laughter

now our work seems fragile
fleeting
our teaching is too flighty
We wished ourselves so agile
that we forgot ancestral strength

We need that tall cathedral tower
or else we'll lose ourselves
forget that though our flesh is mist
our souls remain forever

All castles must return to sand
but let yours wait a little longer
put hands to work for enduring things
And let your mind much ponder
All must burn in the end, but tis best to work believing that it will benefit your children, to the seventh generation
Busbar Dancer May 2018
She has never built sandcastles.
She has never toed the surf along the Gulf of Mexico.
She's only ever known these mountains;
these cold, granite monuments to impassibility
that reduce the sky to slits,
somehow managing to make the heavens smaller.

Half closed eyelids with their own trap-door gravity.

Short lives last eternities too
and there is beauty to be had
- even here -
It's just that everyone should get to build sandcastles sometimes.
Jacob Traver May 2014
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.
Day 3 - To You
velvet sandcastles made of himalayan salt
pour through the cracks in the earth's hearth
our institutions have become belligerently numb
so we must illuminate the stains
with fractured fingerpaints
watercolors whimsically welcome you in trust
dwell in bliss
in the forest of freemasonry
jump off twisting turning
blinking winding sprays of saxophones

melodic dance
lyrical romance
young gypsies
just for the day

she asked if they would be willing to play a game
picture this, she said
positive purposeful courageous
to remember that god is all around
in the smallest sound
in the stones
love hides her little face
and plays coy
while she waits for you to chase her
under rocks and around the bend
into rivers and ponds
for love's grace knows no end
Miko Jan 2014
I snapped my shoudler
back and apart
my girlfriend's a schizophrenic
and I'm shy to sandcastles
The crank lost it's last *****
a one person axe yard
because he's married to smokes
though the cutest couple
goes to Columbia and Magenta
as Batman's into bandanas
so put one on the handle
though a wrist will be as good as plenty
as the campfire fades away
with gentlemen of sorts
August 2nd, 2013
A Mar 2014
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.
Marinela Abarca May 2015
There are these walls around me
which I tried hard to build.
Just when I thought I am ready to fill in the last brick,
I sneaked in a peek
and from the other side, it is you that I see.
Loljk
Olivia Kent Sep 2015
Foundations.
Building on an open spaces
Lead to loosing face.
Architects of pure disaster.
Planning not.
Consider this.
If you actually care.
Sandcastles crumble in the rain.
Melt away in a swirling seas.
Riding the tide.
Decide for once on a solid foundation.
Stop building sand castles time over again.
Sick of creating silica sandcastles .
Sandcastles wash away in the raindrops of time
Never stops.
Drips and drops.
Can't stop.
Wishes.
(c) Livvi
Inspired by students on the bus having a very loud conversation.

— The End —