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"seagulls" poems
have you ever believed in something so blindly so genuinely that the moment you realize it isn't true, something inside you changes forever? i wanna tell you a story, see seldom do i ever go swimming in drinks deep enough to drown in but when i do i speak in tongues about things that none of my memories are allowed to talk about like that christmas at the isthmus where my girlfriend plucked a conch shell whiter than gods teeth out of the sand held it to her ear and stopped time that day she was a shade of blue the could've made the ocean sick see, she loved to play jokes when she held the sea shell to her ear she gasped, called my name and said "i want you to hear this" i said "yeah, right, everybody knows it's just the same old sea" she replied "no. not this one. this one is special. listen. theres music in this one" she handed me the shell like a promise she couldn't keep and i held it to my ear with all the potential of seeing shore after being stranded at sea for years only to hear a tired dirge of silence spill from its emptiness i guess she didn't know how desperately i wanted to hear it too because ever since something inside me snapped now sand pours out of every post card i open i hear seagulls in telephone static sometimes i have dreams where i bury my hands in every beach i've ever been on and exhume this graveyard of noise every time i try to sleep i spit up fishhooks and i guess i'm obsessed but maybe if i hold my ear to enough vacant things then i could have back the time stolen from me since it happened maybe they would get it if they knew what i wanted when i blow out birthday candles maybe they'll find me face down in a wishing well i watch eternal sunshine of the spotless mind every day pretending i can forget too because this sea sickness has followed me for years because yesterday i walked into a music shop and all the pianos broke but the only thing i can think to say is *do you know how bad a memory has to be that you fantasize about forgetting it?*
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Dec 16, 2014
Dec 16, 2014 at 1:03 PM UTC
measure
have you ever believed in something so blindly so genuinely that the moment you realize it isn't true, something inside you changes forever? i wanna tell you a story, see seldom do i ever go swimming in drinks deep enough to drown in but when i do i speak in tongues about things that none of my memories are allowed to talk about like that christmas at the isthmus where my girlfriend plucked a conch shell whiter than gods teeth out of the sand held it to her ear and stopped time that day she was a shade of blue the could've made the ocean sick see, she loved to play jokes when she held the sea shell to her ear she gasped, called my name and said "i want you to hear this" i said "yeah, right, everybody knows it's just the same old sea" she replied "no. not this one. this one is special. listen. theres music in this one" she handed me the shell like a promise she couldn't keep and i held it to my ear with all the potential of seeing shore after being stranded at sea for years only to hear a tired dirge of silence spill from its emptiness i guess she didn't know how desperately i wanted to hear it too because ever since something inside me snapped now sand pours out of every post card i open i hear seagulls in telephone static sometimes i have dreams where i bury my hands in every beach i've ever been on and exhume this graveyard of noise every time i try to sleep i spit up fishhooks and i guess i'm obsessed but maybe if i hold my ear to enough vacant things then i could have back the time stolen from me since it happened maybe they would get it if they knew what i wanted when i blow out birthday candles maybe they'll find me face down in a wishing well i watch eternal sunshine of the spotless mind every day pretending i can forget too because this sea sickness has followed me for years because yesterday i walked into a music shop and all the pianos broke but the only thing i can think to say is *do you know how bad a memory has to be that you fantasize about forgetting it?*
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You are a sailor Drift way from the harbor Pull up the anchor That binds you down Set sail towards the horizon Take off the blindfold And hoist the sail Let the wind be your guide Sun and the Moon your compass Steering through uncharted waters Sometimes calm weather Or, inclement weather, rocking your ship Tackling the deep waters with alacrity Unfathomable depths, yet the ship sails Cutting through the waters The saline water, which is a part of you Seagulls guide you towards the shore Anchoring at the preferred destination Every grain of sand cushions your feet Welcoming you to the island of bliss Cut off from the mainland Yet, helping you connect with yourself Now it’s time to unwind And join the party after a successful voyage Ready to set sail for another expedition As a sailor, cruise till the end © Amitav (Radiance)
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May 27, 2014
May 27, 2014 at 3:30 PM UTC
Set Sail
A harbor town, just like this one, swept up in fog the seagulls, ghosts emerging from the skies the river glistens soft & wide, the Cranes for now are sleeping giants he kisses her, the anxious gun pressed tight against his hand in his pocket he is a dock worker she is a seamstress they're a black & white film because technicolor here is impossible he is you & she is me we speak only in French the kids on the block will get you the next day.
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Sep 6, 2015
Sep 6, 2015 at 3:47 PM UTC
A Dream in Black & White
Seagulls squeak and As thunderclaps salute the laws of physics I imagine they could speak Sensory inputs of fresh strawberries become A raging flood of summer sweetness that Fuses with the hot electrified air And I'm daydreaming that Above this veil of angry clouds Roams unseen ancient eyes With tears braver than What is boundless Stronger and brighter than even Endless darkness They lie in wait Their love Their warmth Bursting forth Wombs of rainbows And all that is precious Yet still untold Waiting to kiss the atoms of your skin And once again Paint your summer smile Blink and you might forget that They were you Before you were even born Sunset Sunrise Watch them never skip a beat Wake up. Kick *** Repeat.
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Jul 21, 2015
Jul 21, 2015 at 2:42 PM UTC
Hey sun, I like your attitude
in the hospitals and jails it's the worst in madhouses it's the worst in penthouses it's the worst in skid row flophouses it's the worst at poetry readings at rock concerts at benefits for the disabled it's the worst at funerals at weddings it's the worst at parades at skating rinks at ****** ****** it's the worst at midnight at 3 a.m. at 5:45 p.m. it's the worst falling through the sky firing squads that's the best thinking of India looking at popcorn stands watching the bull get the matador that's the best boxed lightbulbs an old dog scratching peanuts in a celluloid bag that's the best spraying roaches a clean pair of stockings natural guts defeating natural talent that's the best in front of firing squads throwing crusts to seagulls slicing tomatoes that's the best rugs with cigarette burns cracks in sidewalks waitresses still sane that's the best my hands dead my heart dead silence adagio of rocks the world ablaze that's the best for me.
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13.8k
The Worst And The Best
Dumpsters rain on lots, Seagulls fly over asphalt, . . . Ocean food waiting.
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Jan 27, 2015
Jan 27, 2015 at 10:00 PM UTC
Haiku ( garbage )
Back & forth the waves roll in Challenging the beach The foaming surf offers up a dream That so far is out of reach I wish I could live among the waves Like the seal that I've just seen Without a care for what comes next Or for what has ever been To swim among gigantic whales Majestic in their song Content with life - to carry on Knowing they belong To fly up high above the swell Like the seagulls do Playing in the clouds of spray They all know the truth Happiness is a gift That we can not take for granted In the profoundness of the ocean Seeds of hope will now be planted Back & forth the waves roll in Their cycle never ends My life continues to evolve The sea will help me mend (C) Pixievic 2016
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Feb 15, 2016
Feb 15, 2016 at 12:34 PM UTC
Sanctuary
Sara L Russell, 19/12/14 00:58am White gulls fly against darkness of winter trees swirling in a reeling easterly; bare branches stand in earthbound traceries behind the birds that dance weightless and free. There is a rhythm in this circling flight. a lazy, slightly tipsy minuet; a majesty in gliding wings of white, a sign that better times are coming yet. The dew has barely faded on the green, two fountains bend before the icy breeze, as seagulls, with a grace I've rarely seen swirl heavenward, like flights of fantasies.
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Dec 18, 2014
Dec 18, 2014 at 8:16 PM UTC
Winter Seagulls at Chartham Park
'Twas all so beautiful a sight, A long summers night; The sacred stars were burning bright about our mother moon. The wind filled the sails above the waves, that sped us through the sailors tales, and brought us to a deep lagoon. We cast our nets out far and wide, then watched them sink below the tide, which rattled out a tune for me and you. We hauled aboard the silver fish, to fill our bellies and our fists, then set off home with seagulls squawking tunes. The wooden boat now tied about the quay, its tattered sail and rusty cleat, gently tug and tug the rope upon the swell. come to sea! You know me well!!
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Feb 10, 2018
Feb 10, 2018 at 8:23 AM UTC
The little wooden boat
The echoing sound of seagulls Flying above the sea And leaves upon their branches Such a wonderful harmony. Nature's inspiration was it The reason for his call From a humble shepherd on the land To packing out town halls. Music there within his soul And words inside his head Singing was his only goal His future, good as read. He sang his songs every day He was asked to join a choir Little did he realise His fame would grow much higher. He made a massive impact Wherever he would go Although he never wrote a song His voice would steal the show. He found himself a little band They became like family He treated them like brothers The way that it should be. Suddenly his fame was over The result of a tragedy Sadly he left us Leaving behind his legacy.
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Feb 27, 2017
Feb 27, 2017 at 2:06 PM UTC
The Singing Shepherd.
As I walk along the sea of life I pass the soft blue water against the pale blue sky I think of the sea creatures, the ducks, the seagulls, the seahorses and starfish the myriad array of shells and stones bringing me gems of wisdom... The carefree breeze as the water splashes on the shore relaxing and renewing me... I meditate on the serene tides bringing me calm and focus The sea is intense but still as it enters my inner and outer worlds, but even though there is an end somewhere - it seems like an eternity...
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Jul 24, 2013
Jul 24, 2013 at 11:29 AM UTC
The Deep Blue Sea
You've always been in my heart Where you've stayed since the beginning You're like a little sister to me Like the twinkling stars are to the beautiful sky Like the driftwood is to tiptoe across Like the romantic couples are to sandy beach strolls Like the glowing campfires are to cooling nights Like the soft music is from crashing waves Like the white seashells are to listening ears Like the gigantic ships are to the rolling sea Like the wiggling fish are to the squawking seagulls Like hungry people are to their picnic lunches Like the playful families are to the never-ending coast Like all eyes are to the breath-taking view Like the smiling faces are to the digital cameras Like the crying children are to their tearful goodbyes You're like a little sister to me We've always been, one way or another, the best of friends, And we'll forever be, until the end   Copyright 2014; Sabrina Denise Healey,   ~Angelmom~
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Jan 30, 2015
Jan 30, 2015 at 7:03 PM UTC
My Bestie~
Love flies, the words die. Emotions flow, as the autumn sets, and the winds blow. The red leaves cling, seagulls sing, yet a melancholic string... thoughts cease, emotions freeze, then the cold breeze, take me to the edge of utopia, where loyalty exists, with no worldly grease.
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Mar 31, 2012
Mar 31, 2012 at 9:45 AM UTC
The Melancholic String
with respect to your hair man play with it, been living large so you ain't got time to cut it put it in a ponytail that puts mine to shame it's a little weird talking about your hair seagulls make a birds nest on it it's a hair song, sing songs along the cold air picasso paint it well, redoing the blue three hundred times police pull ya over because of it sometimes ya skin color makes it knappy like the way it settles on my blue jeans when you rest your head on my lappy
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Jun 3, 2018
Jun 3, 2018 at 11:38 PM UTC
hair song
Riding down the rapidly declining slope on the bright, soft-water day, I imagine myself as nothing more than an animal falling down a waterfall into a lake clear and crisp. The wheels of my bike turn rapidly like the a propeller of a plane, just as powerful and just as dangerous if I fall, but only to me. Catching the sea salt breeze my blonde, sun bleached hair flies as if it were flying on seagulls wings. I am a cadmium yellow blur on a painting, moving much too fast to be captured and depicted accurately. I ride until the end of my slope this way, finishing strong with out a hint of regret.
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Feb 3, 2016
Feb 3, 2016 at 10:06 AM UTC
Bike Ride
I stand here alone Across from the horizon Ocean waves splashing Seagulls crying out The wind pushing against me I fall in sinking
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Jun 15, 2014
Jun 15, 2014 at 6:13 PM UTC
The Horizon
As a young child and father search for ***** stare at cloud so beautiful it can't be real. I look out at the edge of the world like a lone wife waiting for her sailor to come home stinking of sweat and brine but feeling alright. My mind wanders carelessly away back to a place so enchanting I dare not stay too long. I should let my thoughts disappear to the end until all I feel is this expanse of clouds blue and gray and white.
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Nov 13, 2014
Nov 13, 2014 at 12:39 AM UTC
Seagulls-
dipping, soaring. swerving with sounds of their symphony which they could only know I hear, I listen I see, I believe with so few words to say I wish I could say more
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Dec 20, 2014
Dec 20, 2014 at 9:05 PM UTC
The sounds of seagulls
Sitting by myself Gazing in the water The breeze blows Mist trailing behind The sound of seagulls not far But in the far horizon I can see the sun rise A beautiful way To start the day
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Apr 17, 2010
Apr 17, 2010 at 11:15 AM UTC
Sunrise
the seagull diddled when he perched on my dock, though no invitation extended, no offense was taken, when in observation, of the foolish humanish varietal, did it opine *"dude, u need to move more and exercise those legs, eat right, many small meals, like me, write your-poetry while in airborne motion."* all this was spoke while he speared and swallowed a little river perch, in my face, flying off contentedly, just to drive his point home - directly into my gut so should the next pedestrian creation, be typo'd plenty, though, I can walk and talk, even chew gum simultaneously, advice from seagulls, who defecate on my dock, should be taken as well, in small sized portion control poetry is best served, proudly prone-ly though I did thank him kindly, and went back to bed...
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Jun 22, 2014
Jun 22, 2014 at 10:21 AM UTC
The Seagull Said
I sleep with my glasses, so, I can see in my dreams the moment you left me, it's all part of the scene. So, the jockeys, they need me. I know they will bleed me. And it's 2 dollars on the 6 horse to show. The buzzards and seagulls, they know what you've done. You said, come on boy, let's go have some fun. But that look in your eyes was full of goodbyes and now, I'm all but done. I'm full of regrets but, it's just one more bet. And it's 2 dollars on the 6 horse to show. The clowns and the hookers got nothing for me. They took all my money, oh boy can't you see? There's just one more bet, and I'm full of regrets. and it's 2 dollars on the 6 horse to show. Bukowski and Hopper look down on me smiling. They've been out to sea. They've been past the islands. I'm tired of running and I'm tired of standing still. Another pill won't do it and it's time for me to go. And it's 2 dollars on the 6 horse to show. You took all my money on a day that was sunny and you know them old clowns, they really aren't funny. So, I head to the track to win it all back, and it's 2 dollars on the 6 horse to show.
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Aug 23, 2023
Aug 23, 2023 at 7:32 PM UTC
2 Dollars on the 6 Horse to Show
Chasing seagulls shadows As the breeze slithered through my hair It was love at first sight Sunsets tracing rainbows on the murky waters The sea truly is a mystery But the love I feel is even more of a mystery I can still hear the roaring of the surf Tides coming in slowly Full moon tonight Softer breeze and a lot less noise No children laugh Parents yelling to stay away from the jellyfish Just silence The perfect love affair It was love at first sight When the sea breeze kissed me The salty water wrapped its arms around me The sun setting fire to Pacific blue water Moonlight chasing dolphins as they fly through the air Stars reflecting off the rippling water It was truly a love affair set in motion at first sight Now I dare you to fall in love
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Dec 17, 2013
Dec 17, 2013 at 3:09 PM UTC
It Was Love At First Sight
Anne crutched her way over the grass from the nursing home to the white seats on the lawn and sat down in one of the chairs and threw her crutches to the ground beside her I sat in a chair next to her she had on a blue skirt and white blouse her one leg stuck out from the end of her skirt the other kids played on the swings and slide or walked around avoiding being near Anne I wonder if the nuns have periods? She said suddenly I don't know I said might explain their crabbiness some days she said I nodded my head unsure of the topic periods of what? I asked she looked at me sternly for a moment you don't know? I shook my head gazing at her it's ************ in real terms she said none the wiser I looked at her hair dark and almost shiny where she’d brushed it so much do you know that? no not heard of it I said she sighed and looked at me deeply do your parents tell you nothing? not about ************ anyway I said my old man told me about the Plague of London in 1665 and rats and stuff **** the Plague of 1665 she said this is real stuff it may come handy one day to know I doubted it but said nothing I looked back at the nursing home for rescue do you know anything about the female cycle? She said my friend's sister's cycle didn't have a cross bar I said remembering Jim's sister and the bicycle I sometimes rode no no Kid not that kind of cycle her body cycle I noticed as she moved on the chair her leg stump became visible   when a female gets to a certain age her body gets prepared to put an egg in a place in her body ready to be fertilized ok? I saw the stump clearly it looked like the end of a plump elbow Kid do you hear what I am saying? Yes I said good now if the egg doesn't get fertilized by a certain time her body gets rid of it in a cycle and she bleeds the whole package out right? It didn’t sound too good but I nodded what kind of egg? I asked what do you mean what kind of egg? A ****** human egg what do you think a ****** hens' egg? She sighed deeply and I wondered where she bought her one shoe how old are you Kid? 10 nearly 11 years old I replied studying her black shoe   and wondering what she did with the other shoe what's fertilization? I asked looking up at her sitting in the chair her eyes focused on me go ask the nuns they'll know she said snappily ok I said I will she reached for her crutches   and said right Kid let's go to the beach out of the eyes of the ******* and their reach and so I walked beside her out the back gate and onto the path that led to the sand and sea blue skies white clouds seagulls and Anne and me.
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Jul 4, 2014
Jul 4, 2014 at 2:11 AM UTC
ANNE'S BODY TALK.
Anne crutched her way over the grass from the nursing home to the white seats on the lawn and sat down in one of the chairs and threw her crutches to the ground beside her I sat in a chair next to her she had on a blue skirt and white blouse her one leg stuck out from the end of her skirt the other kids played on the swings and slide or walked around avoiding being near Anne I wonder if the nuns have periods? She said suddenly I don't know I said might explain their crabbiness some days she said I nodded my head unsure of the topic periods of what? I asked she looked at me sternly for a moment you don't know? I shook my head gazing at her it's ************ in real terms she said none the wiser I looked at her hair dark and almost shiny where she’d brushed it so much do you know that? no not heard of it I said she sighed and looked at me deeply do your parents tell you nothing? not about ************ anyway I said my old man told me about the Plague of London in 1665 and rats and stuff **** the Plague of 1665 she said this is real stuff it may come handy one day to know I doubted it but said nothing I looked back at the nursing home for rescue do you know anything about the female cycle? She said my friend's sister's cycle didn't have a cross bar I said remembering Jim's sister and the bicycle I sometimes rode no no Kid not that kind of cycle her body cycle I noticed as she moved on the chair her leg stump became visible   when a female gets to a certain age her body gets prepared to put an egg in a place in her body ready to be fertilized ok? I saw the stump clearly it looked like the end of a plump elbow Kid do you hear what I am saying? Yes I said good now if the egg doesn't get fertilized by a certain time her body gets rid of it in a cycle and she bleeds the whole package out right? It didn’t sound too good but I nodded what kind of egg? I asked what do you mean what kind of egg? A ****** human egg what do you think a ****** hens' egg? She sighed deeply and I wondered where she bought her one shoe how old are you Kid? 10 nearly 11 years old I replied studying her black shoe   and wondering what she did with the other shoe what's fertilization? I asked looking up at her sitting in the chair her eyes focused on me go ask the nuns they'll know she said snappily ok I said I will she reached for her crutches   and said right Kid let's go to the beach out of the eyes of the ******* and their reach and so I walked beside her out the back gate and onto the path that led to the sand and sea blue skies white clouds seagulls and Anne and me.
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Beams of light explode over the soft sand, i can feel the warmth on my face as i sit on the beach, sinking softly into natures warm bed. The light seems to turn everything it touches into a glowing ball of light, as if god himself is smiling down at the dawn of a new day. The beach is deserted apart from a few seagulls that seem to share this enlightened appreciation. I grab my board and walk slowly towards the sand, my feet sinking into the grains, feeling the consistency change as the water laps at my ankles. My wetsuit keeps me surprisingly warm as the cold water rises slowly, and i close my eyes, holding my board under one arm. I smell the salt, the fresh air, this is what beauty is. I wander in, losing myself in this new environment. I duck quickly underwater wetting my hair and face, floating weightlessly in the water for a second, before rising, feeling fresh as i grab my floating board and straddle it. Leaning forward, i can seeing fish scatter as the first wave washes over me like a tilde wave of emotions and stress, i wipe the slate clean, i am the tabula rasa and this is a new day.
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Nov 2, 2014
Nov 2, 2014 at 1:43 AM UTC
Beach
Goodbye  wasps Goodbye  bees Goodbye  pollen from the trees Goodbye  midges Goodbye  flies Goodbye  scorching cloudless skies Goodbye  seagulls Goodbye  ants Goodbye  sunbathers in tiny pants Goodbye  sunburn Goodbye  oiled skin Goodbye  iced drinks laced with gin Goodbye  tourists Goodbye  throngs Goodbye  men wearing sarongs Goodbye  hosepipe Goodbye  lawn  mower Welcome  to the noisy leaf blower Hello  Autumn Hello  cool bright day Hello  rolling around in the hay Hello  harvest Hello  fruits Hello  hiking in hiking boots Hello warm colours Hello warm hearts Good riddance Summer Autumn starts
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Aug 27, 2014
Aug 27, 2014 at 4:07 AM UTC
Goodbye Summer