"seasickness" poems
Excuse me, if you must,
as the spinning causes seasickness.
Open the clouds as you continue on
in an aeronautical sarcophagus,
thirty-thousand feet
above broken land.
Grab your lover’s hair,
last resort to prepare for
the emergency crash landing
into mother earth’s disease,
or are they simply parting the seas,
causing darkness to spread
from the unfilled hole in their chest?
Stomachs turn as the
broken wings and sails
fall upon the shores.
An ocean of rage delivers
waves of hatred embraced.
The surf clears, exposing pain
and the premonition
of a cleansing blood red rain.
Shrieks of the banshee
and the howls of the hurt rise
to meet the clouds seeking
to brighten the days afar.
As thousands flee in terror
we make a toast in the French Quarter.
The chariots gain speed
and the wake gains mirth,
laughingly applauding
the approaching dark comedy.
The newly arrived antagonist
has forced the hero’s hand
and now she births forth
a wave of healing epidemics.
The wake’s in the wind
and the funeral’s imminent.
Its population’s been soothed
into a sedated slumber,
but our character has issued
too many warning,
and strikes deep at the heart
of this sinful city,
breaking apart the basin’s barrier,
and lulls its children back to sleep
with bloodstained lullabyes.
Nov 20, 2012
Nov 20, 2012 at 1:13 PM UTC
We are all but sailors who drift upon love's seas
But one thing I can't seem to decipher is if the lighthouse is you or me
For this wretched tide tosses and turns me into a face in the crowd
And I pray to God that searchlight will turn on and finally single me out
For I am sick with love for you and seem to be obscured
Pondering on which of us is ill and which is the cure
And all I know is seasickness is making me yearn for home
And the open doors that are your arms let me know you're sick of being alone
So I will weather the storm clouds and the ever tossing sea
And I will look to you and know I'm the one for whom you're waiting
For when it comes down to star-struck hearts that finally choose to collide
It matters not on the infliction or remedy but that they're brought together in time
With this in mind I will fall in love with you and wrestle my way to the coast
So then you can see the days have been long and of my journey I will boast
And any treasure I find, whether lighthouse or sailor, is worth the world to me
But until then, if you seek me, my love, look outwards to sea
Feb 18, 2013
Feb 18, 2013 at 9:25 AM UTC
It's not morning sickness if it only happens when I wake up next to you,
baby.
Oct 28, 2015
Oct 28, 2015 at 12:50 PM UTC
This floatation device doesn't work
so well anymore, not now that night
is falling and the chill sets through
my marrow.
Currents were made to drift,
and so they do. In and out
the tides swell like lovers
falling into and out of bed.
All the rocking has made
me dizzy, and the seasickness
and nausea pools in the water
like shark red undercurrents
and skies at dawn.
The rain is usually an indication
that you're entering the eye,
where it is calm for seconds,
fingertips tingling, twitching,
waiting for the explosion
that rips the sails from above
you, and sends you plunging
into an eddy.
And when you are tossed overboard,
watching your ship thrashed between
the waves and weather;
waiting for the searchlights;
don't set off your flare at the first sign,
or you'll lose your S.O.S to the sea.
This floatation device doesn't work
so well anymore, not since you left
with what's left of my wreckage,
and the farther we drift apart,
the more I feel like dying.
Sep 28, 2011
Sep 28, 2011 at 1:58 AM UTC
the ***** burnt my insides
like strong fuel intensifying my fire
blurred dancing, laughing
jump, jump, jump higher
the wide eyes surrounding me
as I proved I could chug a beer,
the bubbles meant to lift me
only drown me, my dear
*** took over my limbs
moved my lips so close to yours
told me to forget about him
it turned us all into ******
and regret rises in our throats
yellow bile ***** hangover
seasickness is absent on my boat
but regret is a tsunami washing over
I drown, hands up in plea
I was with you not him
but still he forgives me
that makes one of us, not three.
Jul 2, 2013
Jul 2, 2013 at 2:06 AM UTC
the girl in the spacesuit,
she haunts my dreams.
my ever-deepening thoughts are
building homes on the vacant plot of grass
that is my mind.
the girl in the spacesuit whispers her warnings
she tells me i am dying.
shows me photographs of the black
that i am riding gallantly towards.
on the back of a black horse.
the smoke is the only thing under the sun,
that will put her to sleep.
she keeps screaming to determine,
just how far her voice will carry.
or perhaps she is screaming
to someone on the shore.
begging them to relieve her of constant
seasickness.
because the girl in the spacesuit
is leagues and leagues under the sea.
trying to untie the recurring knot.
she is obscure, yet familiar
she plagues my mortal brain.
one dark evening
her face ascended from the skylight
of a crowded ballroom.
**** you and
you.
**** that glass room under the sea.
**** the day that they told me,
the girl in the spacesuit was me.
Jul 2, 2011
Jul 2, 2011 at 2:32 PM UTC
turning tides and sickening waves
it comes in bouts
sea sickness in slow motion
an uncontrollable desire to scratch at my skin
it comes in bouts
the thoughts, the fear, the feeling;
an anchor of uncontrollable palpitations and irrational thought
for some people, home is where the heart is
my heart is a home
it knocks in my chest and one day i am sure it's going to knock itself down
home is where the heart is,
reminders of where my heart is come in bouts
dizziness and exhaustion
brown paper bags and air thick with lack of oxygen...
how close are you to passing ou-
home is where the heart is,
some people have buried their homes within me
and i cannot take care of my own heart - let alone yours
and i keep trying to stop the world from turning so i don't drown in these turning tides and sickening waves so maybe we can spend longer together but these waves come crashing in fast; like my heart beat, like that unforgiving train as it takes you further and further away from me
i have never felt so close and yet so far from you
some people have buried their homes within me
i am more derelict building; abandoned farmhouse; isolated corner shop than i ever could be home
there is graffiti all over my walls and it masks irrational thought with shadowed wisdom and make-believe positivity
i was not built
i was misconstructed;
the site that gets knocked down before the real construction begins
and no one is safe to live within me;
for as homely as my heart may seem, it is overpowered by turning tides and sickening waves.
Aug 19, 2016
Aug 19, 2016 at 6:02 PM UTC
What was I up to while we were locked-in?
I was busy contemplating sin.
I had months and months of moments to spend,
Ms chaste without, misdeeds within.
Lust, like seasickness - upends reason
and it burns like underbrush fuel.
So dust my DNA, and ID my ***** dreamin'
am I guilty of breaking some rule?
Aug 9, 2021
Aug 9, 2021 at 5:17 AM UTC
I hope it doesn't hurt too bad
when you leave and I carve your name
in the back of my hand
like plants that grow following rain
on a warm winter week
but dies in the next freeze
to you thats what I am.
but you know that I love you my sweet heart
although you may one day not care
its you whom I'll write to whilst
homesick in night school
the good times have come but I'm not there
(with you)
so my dear if we go inside
the ghosts won't appear if we close our eyes
come down with me by the cypress trees we'll
watch the sunset through the leaves
forget what we've both done
but don't forget you once cared for me.
Dec 3, 2014
Dec 3, 2014 at 5:39 AM UTC
whirlpool!
massive squid!
60 foot waves!
Dysentery
Seasickness
Plague
Burials at sea
we commit his body to the oceans
tidal waves
mermaids
serpents
octopus meals
broke rudder
compass malfunction
‘My dearest love, by the time you get this
I will have perished in the high seas...you have my love, I will be forever in your dreams...you were my driving force, my have and to hold...my anchor down.’
Apr 14, 2018
Apr 14, 2018 at 8:49 AM UTC
send me off to sea on the oceans between our hands
though I’m scared of water I’ll find peace in our waves
when the waters get rough I will be uneasy
I will find that seasickness I know that rests inside me
I will hold onto the thought of smooth sailing
of our blue oceans
our clear skies
Feb 17, 2016
Feb 17, 2016 at 8:47 PM UTC
positivity feels like a drop of water in a desert
and i'm tired of calling you with nothing to say
because if the desert were an ocean, i'd be the curve of a wave
something forever shifting, steep then still, steep then still
constant, but not the same
(splash splash, ripple ripple
a storm and a tide shift and a push of an oar
but then i guess even shipwrecks have anchors)
it's something my math teacher taught me to think of in numbers
the idea of a shifting wave
a fundamental of calculus, easily measured by tangent lines and graph paper,
a protractor and a trusty dixon ticonderoga number 2
(the best pencil in the world, i've been told)
but textbooks, backpacks, and the smell of dry erase
never gave me any clue of how to deal with seasickness.
do you like that world?
do you sit at your desk staring at chemical equations
considering a list of things that dead white men did or didn't do
a pencil in one hand (dixon ticonderoga number 2)
a knife in the other,
blood and ink and a bathroom sink
spilled like oil on pavement across your mind
(thick and dark in a toxic puddle, bad for the earth
but if you look at it sideways, sometimes you see rainbows)
when you go to bed and your hands shake and your breath
shivers out of you like a ghost,
are you satisfied with your world of locker slams and ABCs
and choices that you're told are yours?
maybe you're the desert
maybe i'm your drop of water
i'm tired of calling you with nothing to say
because really i'd guess i have too many words
i'm an ocean, motion sick from my own fluctuating sea,
and i would never want for you to be like me,
you're beautiful with your mountains and rocks and sand
i just with i could make you understand
how ever part of you glows when you talk about music
or how free your voice sings when you talk to me
while you're aimlessly doodling masterpieces
on some stupid vocab sheet.
Aug 1, 2017
Aug 1, 2017 at 11:59 PM UTC
trying to move on from you
is like seasickness.
off balance,
the whole world spinning under my feet
only stopping once i set foot on land
and see you
for even the briefest
of seconds.
Feb 13, 2018
Feb 13, 2018 at 7:29 PM UTC