"scuba" poems
He's in too deep.
He can't seem to think.
Just how low
do you think he will he sink?
Caught in the undertow
of the current flow.
He treads
Slow
It can make or break what you knew
if you ride the rapids threw.
Will they take Scuba Steve too!?
He wont swim for the shore.
to avoid once more
the beauty in store
Only to find...
That he always wants more.
he learned from the past
but his oxygen can't last
and his air
Is depleting fast
high in the speed
and the passing sea ****
I heard Scuba Steve plead
I'm in too deep
and I can't seem to think
Just how low
Do you think
I will sink?
May 14, 2014
May 14, 2014 at 9:57 PM UTC
When I was a child,
I dreamt I could fly,
When I woke, I tried for a while
As hard a I might, it was a lie!
When I was a child,
I dreamt I could breathe
Under water for a while.
Awake I tried but air I need!
As I grew up, those silly dreams I forgot,
Until one day I jumped out of a plane,
With a parachute, the wind I caught.
Flying like Superman, it was insane!
As I grew up, those silly dreams I thought I forgot,
Until I dove deep down under water,
With scuba gear that I bought.
Swimming like a mermaid was not bother!
Looking back now, I see
Those silly little dreams
Were always a part of me.
Dreams come true, it seems!
Feb 17, 2017
Feb 17, 2017 at 8:22 AM UTC
See, it’s more of a… hypnosis,
A deep slumber of an everlasting fantasy. Trust me, I love it.
Like a whisk into a different parallel world
Filled with flashing colors that swirl and twirl, in fact,
kind of similar to a dress on a ballroom floor.
Not just any ballroom floor though.
No, this, like Van Gogh’s Starry Night
a masterpiece that cannot be replicated,
and to step foot on it is one of careful deep sea excitement
I wish to step there.
However, I am a tad ungraceful
and my feet are about as elegant as a scuba diver’s flippers.
So I might just impersonate one
and dive deep into the sea of the unknown and secret homes
hoping it delivers an innate whisper of the anticipation, the excitement
of this hypnotic, starry world.
Deeper I go, into this never ending oceanic abyss
With the darkness just as tongue twisting as it gets
Looking for something, anything,
to salvage my reason for going this deep, this late,
Because I have a tendency to procrastinate about the tasks most essential to my fate.
But, if you want, you can accompany me
and we can scuba dive together
into the deep sea of the not yet discovered and shining beacons of wonder
And if we’re lucky, we might find the lost city of Atlantis.
And while we’re there we can search and search for the spoils and riches of the hidden majesty
and wouldn't it be just lovely if we find a treasure chest, something?
With an eye for design we can admire it’s beauty
but we have to open it
because that’s the secret in the treasure.
To open it.
And the contents are the spoils.
Open it.
Apr 16, 2014
Apr 16, 2014 at 11:18 PM UTC
vintage polaroids
mountain air
girl scout cookies
summer hair
ed sheeran lyrics
mint lemonade
blowing bubbles
christmas parade
harry potter
winter park crew
biscoff spread
morning dew
british accents
plaid shirts
old castles
chocolate desserts
breakfast for dinner
big bang theory quotes
shakespearean language
cape cod sailboats
sweet nostalgia
the smell of books
longing wanderlust
forest nook
80s movies
neon lights
time with friends
caramel delights
the great gatsby
walk the moon
old typewriters
plumerias bloom
bombay bicycle club
chinese cuisine
abstract art
seafoam green
vineyard vines
life of pi
scuba diving
monarch butterfly
May 8, 2013
May 8, 2013 at 9:54 PM UTC
Those moonrise eyes, that darling stare.
You could glare at me all day, I don’t even care.
Smile like violets, laughter like beer,
My head swims when you’re far away, scuba-dives when near.
Walk the streets of superficiality with me,
And we’ll roll our way downhill until we love ourselves to sleep.
I’ll love you straight to sleep.
Jun 18, 2013
Jun 18, 2013 at 1:57 PM UTC
A scuba diver, head first like a dolphin,
goes in to the ocean, 100 feet down
in semi-darkness finds this apparition
something beautiful to behold in motion,
really really big and mysterious it appears
gliding gracefully spewing wonderment,
inviting reverence from all kinds of marine life
Clearly apologetic, for being out of place,
though he has encroached, in to a world
though not far from the sea surface,
yet in a depth where human has no place
all his scientific temper got evaporated
a simple villager now, gripped by wonder.
All he could think of anyone
fitting in to such magnificence
was God Almighty,himself.
"How do you do God?" he stutters,
aware that in plankton filled darkness
the mighty man is at the mercy of
the behemoth, looming large above.
The phenomenon in question,
***** whale"as we know him,
smiles and burps happily "Fantastic"
then he dives 6000 feet down, looking
for a colossal squid, succulent to be sure
the whole reason for him to play God
at this depth for sea creatures that lose
bearing in the haze of challenging depths.
Mar 12, 2016
Mar 12, 2016 at 5:59 AM UTC
WHAT IF TIME IS RUNNING OUT?
What if time is running out, there's so much I've yet to do
see the sunrise in the desert, watch it set from Kathmandu
Meditate in Angkor Wat, eat Sushi in Hong Kong
its been nearly 40 years now, you think she changed while I was gone
Scuba dive the Barrier Reef, go snowboarding and live
Make my peace with everyone, because there's nothing to forgive
Explore India like locals do, travel on top the train
armed with my black umbrella, just in case it starts to rain
Pay my parents back for everything, for all the love they shared
Find a way to tell them thank you, that does justice to how they cared
To show my son how much I love him, and how proud of him I am
and how that once scared little boy, has turned into a man.
Tell my sister she's the best there is, that I am proud of her
and ask for her forgiveness, that I was not the brother she deserved
So, what if time is running out, there's so much I haven't done
there's one more thing left on my list, to see if you're the one.
Aug 18, 2010
Aug 18, 2010 at 6:50 PM UTC
the darkest of my fantasies whisper
Your body is a scuba suit
insist i breath with your ******* through your mouth
dive deep into claustrophobic waters, sink heavy to the rock bottom
where we petrify by gorgans gaze
i know we'll turn to stone because, of course, the gorgans can't resist gazing at You
nobody can resist gazing at You, land or sea.
Our permanent legacy, lost under layers of life
barnacles clinging, moss burying Our chimera god/snake skin
i am without Your oxygen
when breathing would terrorize the wind
where words belong
still, my forked tongue writes
i'm a theif to say i only want You to be happy
when i had You, it was still selfish
the revolving doors of pain and perseverance
more time invested in us
then money invested in the Pills that kept me from killing You
out of habit
You begged me to beat You
it's been seven hands dealt
rubbing my 5 o'clock sandpaper chin
on the tarot card of death
my tolerance for vacancy
a brownish red stain
i've only the thin line of medication between necrophilia and sociopathy
i want to lay with You at the bottom of the sea
**the Pills... where are...
please no, God.
The Voice, run!
get out!**
*I would gladly go to prison
to **** your lifeless body.
I would gladly **** Myself in the afterglow
of your affection.
there is only one true Sin, Objectification.
I indulge relapse
in every memory, find
your shed snake skin
pull it on, like your *******
how disturbed I've become
with you gone*
how selfish of you
of course "I" blames You
when the Pills dull
i indulge by studying Your location
i know where You escape too
i want to go there
does that scare You?
i want to bump into You
apoligise for what i want
"want" as a word
is like plexi-glass, or kevlar
standing between Us
keeping the bullet safe.
i want a hard impact
in a school hallway
where we drop all our
Books and look up and You
see my ghost, that would be enough for Me
i want the impact to hurt.
i want the tumbling of all our Book's
i want the messy hair and ripped knees,
then Our
eyes to meet
and linger
I want to watch the fear fill you.
i want to sit there,
watching.
petrify from parcel tongues
as i gaze at Your gorgon body
shedding skin
if i shed my snakeskin,
maybe i'll see You
i can't leave this Poem
i can't leave this Poem yet
i won't leave this Poem
please kick me out
Poem
Poem
end Me
..
end
.
I
..
Jul 17, 2018
Jul 17, 2018 at 8:17 AM UTC
He doesn’t have to be physically perfect upon your eyes
His perfection in his faith toward Allah that counts
He doesn’t need to bring you umbrella when it rains
But look upon His ability to shelter
and protect you from the evil eyes
He must not be rich to shower you with diamonds and golds
His richness in knowledge of Islam is mandatory
A Muslim intellectual in sophisticated world,
relevantly sufficient...
He doesn’t take you to the exciting places of the world...
Scuba diving in the famous sea, Shopping in Paris,
but His hand holds yours so tightly
along the journey to the holy land
His lips doesn’t praise you enough,
so sad...your beauty is not worth...
But at night he cries as he prays to Allah...
To protect you from the devils
who only speaks the language of evils and hates
He who guides you not only in the present world
But he holds your hands all the way through...
So that you wouldn’t be lost along your path
To the sacred place of eternity
You and him In Jannah together...
in paradise forever.. Insya Allah...
Apr 29, 2013
Apr 29, 2013 at 2:00 AM UTC
A old gentleman in a bar was sitting next to a very beat up man this tattered man He wore no shoes
He smelled
He was soaking wet and looked very pale.
The old gentleman bought the man a beer
and ask him what his story was
the man told him that he was once a successful buissness owner
a man of high class and standard.
He wore the finest clothes,
wore the most beautufl jewelry,
and went on amazing journeys.
The old gentleman began to laugh
he sipped his drink
looked over the man and asked him what happened
the man told him that he was driving out in the country comming home from a buissness meeting
He said he had been drinking and reached for his scotch when he
looked up
his car swirved in the lake
water seaped in
He said " water came rushing in so fast"
the old gentleman looked down at his beer
looked up
and the man was nowhere to be seen
he asked the bar keep if he saw where the man went
the bar keep insisted that the old gentleman was crazy that he saw the old gentleman talking to himself...
suddenly
The old Gentleman heard a voice over the television " Good evening we have breaking news it appears that Lyon Lemon Owner of Inka Industries has gone missing. Police have recovered his viechle but with no trace of Lyon inside it. They've issued scuba divers to search for the Lyons body. We will keep you posted on this story.
The old gentleman suddenly felt quezzy and uneasy. His lips dried, his skin went clammy, and his hair stood on the back of his neck. He knew he had seen Lyon not moments ago in the bar. The old gentle dropped a handfull of silver and paper on the counter and rushed out.
Javier Timble once a Master Con Artist and a Cheat was now the one being fooled and tricked with. He knew the game that was being played on him and he was to have no part of being set up for a ****** Timble was shakened but was far from scared. As he walked out the bar he noticed wet footprints. But they were forming as if someone was walking. Timble again felt the rush of adrenline come into his heart he began to mutter to himself and wonder what kind of trick this was. Javier stepped slowly towards the footprints and noticed that there was letters forming on the wall to the right of him. slowly the words formed out to say "InKa"
Oct 24, 2012
Oct 24, 2012 at 2:04 AM UTC
Plunging beneath the surface
And as it all finally settles
So does silence
Being broken only by the sound of my breath
The bubbles bursting from my lips
Tentatively stagger toward the surface
I go deeper
As far as I can before my breath runs out
Toward an inaccessible deep blueness
Where a whole new world awaits me
Out of reach from the shimmering luster above
Past the rigid rocks
Moving gently forward
A school of shiny fish scatters at my arrival
The seaweed dances around
Ensnaring any foolish enough to wander too close
I’m running out of air
The time is too short
Back to where I’m from
Beyond the wild and beautifully unexplored world below me
I am wistful to part
Because time
Is what makes it so special
Apr 9, 2012
Apr 9, 2012 at 8:22 PM UTC
Caressing my face,
Bubbles rush to greet me
Tickling like a sweet spring sigh.
This is only the first.
I am still half
A visitor. Stuck in suspension
Between this world and mine.
Slowly I pass
Through the threshold.
My air-sick ears adjust
To the sounds of the sea.
I stare down
At the small colony
On the sea floor,
My landing gear is down.
Customs arrives.
A grey, French Angelfish
Of the most industrious kind.
But he isn’t obtrusive.
As he flits in and out
Checking my bubbles
Ensuring I am not bringing
Any more air than I should.
No doubt he will stay near
Most of my stay
I have finally arrived,
The coral city stretches before me.
I catch the current trolley
And it whisks me past
Rocky storefronts and coral motels.
Lobster shopkeeps
Rush out of dark
Stores and stand in the street
Giant claws raised
Toward me in supplication.
Beckoning me to come
And browse his wares
While a fish I don’t know
Is busy cleaning homes and stores.
They must’ve dropped out of the school
Which passes by
The pupils in matching uniforms
Of flashing silver and black.
Clown fish wave
To me from their Lawns
Of sea anemone
Before darting back inside.
Here is the kind of place
Where I could put down roots.
Live out an idyllic life
Living in a coral townhouse.
But for me to stay
Would be severely fatal.
I’m just a visitor
And my visa is about to expire.
I look back one more time
As my head breaks the surface.
The sun stings, I blink.
Jun 3, 2013
Jun 3, 2013 at 2:07 PM UTC
I want to be more active
And not spew about all my feelings
I'm done pitying myself,
I just need to trust God,
Anyways here's an ending bucket list
Because I won't write back in a while:
Free swim with whales and sharks
See a lion pride
Shark cage diving
Sky dive
Ski a double black diamond
Climb a mountain
Film a tornado
Learn to surf
Learn to snowboard
Learn to scuba dive
See a wild wolf pack
See a wild brown bear
Hang glide
Paraglide
Cliff dive
Ride Route 66
Camp in complete wilderness of Yellowstone for week
Hike mount Haleakala, Hawaii, and photograph night sky
Visit equafina springs FL (again)
Camp on a beach (not crowded) with friends
Kiss in the rain
Go tree tent camping in smoky mountains
Own bonsai tree for many years
Own horses
Dye my hair (once)
Camp on my own private sail boat w friends
Write a book (actually commit, doesn't have to be good or published)
Own theses dogs: Newfie, husky, Akita
Live in Alaska
Live in the Yukon
Live in Colorado
Climb the grand Tetons and pray
Live without a cell phone
See Unimak pass Alaska and film orcas
Milk a cow
Nov 4, 2014
Nov 4, 2014 at 11:08 AM UTC
Boy, SCUBA diving sure sounds fun-
to play in seascape soaked in sun.
I'm certified my classes done,
if only I could rent some lungs.
Apr 16, 2012
Apr 16, 2012 at 12:34 PM UTC
I had a dream we were scuba divers.
We floated through life like nothing could hurt us.
We're all running from something, I learned.
I had a dream we climbed mountains.
We sat at the top and looked at the world from above.
We laughed and choked and felt our lungs close.
We're all afraid of dying, I learned.
I had a dream we were astronauts.
We said our goodbyes and floated in the sky,
Looking down only to remember that time
We were scuba divers.
We're all afraid to let go, I learned.
I had a dream you left one day.
You packed your bags and I went to your house.
We hugged and promised to keep in touch
And that I'd visit at least once a month.
I had a dream we grew up.
Aug 21, 2014
Aug 21, 2014 at 9:57 AM UTC
Out on the runway, screaming at grey engines
how did he not open his stomach up in front of the T.V.?
how did Tommy go on living,
the boy never showed, they were to fight at 3, after school
who will I fight now? Who will I hurt?
Who has survived the drowning
Black Atlantic,
bone nails clawing to shore,
writhing in the black tentacles
of scuba gear.
Who stalks the land anew;
unafraid.
Dec 3, 2014
Dec 3, 2014 at 7:51 AM UTC
Inflow
Ex flow
system
positive feed back
in a negative loop
hyper sped on the electric boop
beep .
awoken to car horns and sirens wail
Odysseus could no longer feel his left foot , right...
is that the one where they sing those songs and the mermaids eat them up ?
is that the sphinx in scuba gear?
freediving?!!
Sep 16, 2013
Sep 16, 2013 at 12:55 PM UTC
*
I have stopped looking at the clouds
and start staring at cornered walls that surrounds me.
The clear skies that I would dream, wondering the complexities of its heights…
I often believed that the sky would make my dreams come true,
but in reality, all it takes to journey your dream is creating a stepping stone.
You can’t achieve anything without making any step.
I always like to jump into conclusion, fear of failure.
In this case, it hinders the optimism values we always have.
Diving into your deepest thoughts is just like scuba diving without oxygen.
We need to learn how to hold our breaths, to accept everything
and process every obstacle in the depth of negativity.
For far beyond its deepness, there is light, shiny as pearls.
You’ll learn its wisdom, an insight that will guide you towards reaching any goal…
Written - 09/16/2013
Updated – 04/21/2014
*
May 6, 2015
May 6, 2015 at 11:03 AM UTC
A distorted lens
makes it hard to find your cast.
Got the bends
from ascending too fast.
I was drowning.
I ran out of air
while watching a flounder frowning.
He looked so sad I had to stare.
Sail away.
Raise the mast
Raise the mask
Praise the flask
All to learn:
Be careful when you go diving.
Apr 8, 2013
Apr 8, 2013 at 12:36 PM UTC
Beautiful, soothing, wavy
Lover of glancing at the sharks in the no swimming area
Who feels thrilled when I ride abwave and see many people watching
Who wonders if a shark really mistakes people for seals in the deep, daring, dangerous waters
Who fears that one day an octopus will come and its tiny teeth will shred me in half
Who would like to bring the Loch ness Monster back to life and be queen of Atlantis
Who is able to go scuba diving without getting bit by a lemon shark in its molding, melting, and magnificent lair
Who dreams to save the sharks from extinction from the throbbing and clutching fishermen...
May 23, 2013
May 23, 2013 at 12:13 PM UTC
The screen is a madhouse
of body-building, ego-boosting,
and bad gig recordings.
I see her bronzing in the beach,
applying lotion and laughing
with a new friend.
I'm still stuck in the snow,
watching her skirt in the breeze.
I chain coffee in the morning
to counter sobriety,
to show that I know her more
than just by the light of the moon.
In sunglasses, we'll meet somewhere
neutral; an escape route to run
if the patient becomes lunatic again.
She'll administer the pill
from her pockets to ensure I'll flat-line
through her absences,
and then resurrect when she's lost her
appetite. Far away from this
selfish depression, I dream
of us painting a wall. Nothing dies
when it is made into memory;
nothing lives without your early morning call.
Jul 24, 2014
Jul 24, 2014 at 8:55 PM UTC
in afternoons i drive through tolls and
smash chicken with a tenderizer, spoon
fed and clean. this isn’t
thailand tropics, not on a scuba dive.
writing’s old, rusty, sick, but ‘oh i
wake and reach out.’
now i live in boston, my sheets smell of
flowers, night bodies, your breath. even when
my frame folds into your side- and you push-
it’s not away, it’s ok. i can fog glasses with my
fingers. i can say hello, goodbye.
once, i combed hair off bath tile(not my own),
searched a loft for reasons to leave
there had to be something, someone
else (you). and now, i’ve stopped—
we watch puppies, magnolias, moon rising
in the park. i fall asleep to a podcast. i smile
in the dark.
May 7, 2013
May 7, 2013 at 1:09 PM UTC
Hey rock-star boy, shaggy hair, loud mouth, striking chords on your guitar
You might as well have been playing my heartstrings
Hey punk-rock t-shirts, smooth voice, bright eyes, I
Caught your glance once or twice
From
Shy girl, scared voice, straight A’s, no choice, I
Might as well have been taking down music notes in my books
Because no mathematical equations would ever add up the way I
Divided my boundaries just to talk to you I
Swore your song was perfect
From
Shy girl, corner dwelling, never speaks up, never acts out, never curses, never cries
There’s a reason guys like you aren’t with girls like me but
Tight hugs, this was different, wide smiles, this was different, soft hands, this was different
And I still somehow believe, you were different
But
Empty promises, fake tears, harsh lies, secret fears, deliberate deceit
Your song was playing on repeat but
The hard rock metal that once pumped blood through our veins was
More like the metal shredding my ribcage I
Felt everything sharper because I
Changed keys for you
Loud girl, sharp tongue, wider smiles, faker love, I
Glued wings to my soul, but let you call me Icarus, I
Fell into the sea
Fast swimmer, quicker to drown, SCUBA diver, sinking down
Oxygen torn from my lungs I
Breathed in different dreams for you I
Reached for different stars for you I
Can never close my eyes around you
Loud girl, center stage, honest tongue, biting rage, always cursing, always cries
Eating my words when you fed me lies
Hey
Rock-star boy
College drop-out, smoke in your lungs, breaking rules just for fun
The only “I love you” I’d ever spoken
The only time my heart was broken
Hey
Punk rock boy
Please get your song out of my head I
Can’t stand to hear this chorus again
Jul 14, 2014
Jul 14, 2014 at 11:14 AM UTC
I used to need a submarine
to visit the dark depths of my soul
To where the bottom feeders feast
on the dead and feces from the shoal
A completely inhospitable, light-less,
savage, alien underworld
Where the spineless slimy sea cucumber
writhed, wriggled and curled.
Now I prefer to scuba dive my soul
or gaily use snorkel and flippers
Among a rich vivid abundance of life
Up and down the aqua big dippers
But I admit every now and then
at certain dark times of the year
I swim above that unforgiving trench
and can not hold back the tears
Jul 4, 2014
Jul 4, 2014 at 4:39 AM UTC