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Ryan Jakes May 2014
Go grab your wetsuit
your sunblock and wax
go get a clean towel
put them all in your pack
I'll watch as the sun beams from your face
and feel the breeze stirred by your running flip-flopped feet
I'll laugh as you shout "YES" and fistpump the air
This is us.
Our thing.
We.
Surfs up li'l dude!
RAJ NANDY May 2016
A short and an earlier popular poem of mine. Hope you like it! Thanks, - Raj, New Delhi.

       THE SURF-RIDER !
See him riding gallantly the crest of
waves,
With dexterity and poise and flowing
grace!
He rises to descend, to rise once more,
As the waves keep rolling towards the
shore!
Like those surfs the Rider continues his
mellifluous dance ,
Be it in England, in Spain or in France;
Riding high on waves as if in a trance!
The wind churns up the waves as it rises
and swells,
As the Rider manoeuvers his wake-board
riding those crests before it breaks !
Like a gymnast he executes strong cutbacks
- to reverse his turn,
His spirit dominate as the waves rise and
churn!
He did take his time to perfect his art ,
Having loved the sea  and the surf from the
very start!
He learnt to live in moments just like those
dancing waves,
Floating on their crests as his blood within
raves!
Those surfs like musical notes rise up and
fall,
Where some surfs are short and others tall !
Like a philharmonic conductor par-excellence,
He commands those waves with his skilful
presence!
Friends, riding on Time’s moments is no mean
art,
But like the Surf-rider one must make a gallant
start !
                                          -Raj Nandy, New Delhi
Having read about surf riders and having seen them in action, I was inspired to compose this short poem for you. For reading thank you! -Raj
Mike Hauser May 2014
Surfs Up
In distant lands
From Kuwait Bay
To Afghanistan
Arabia
To Pakistan
We all high five
As we hang ten
The ladies there
With burkas on
Will grab their boards
And surf along
The Taliban
With weapons raised
Are now into
The surfing craze
The Saudi king
Is wondering
With his wives
What they're missing
So he goes and buys
Daytona Beach
And has it shipped
To the Middle East
Where there is no more
Need to fight
As they sing Beach Boy tunes
By beach fire light
They're all hanging loose
In the Middle East
Even the Palestinians
And the Israelis
Who knew surfing would
Bring so much peace
To the troubled times
In the Middle East
tloco Jun 2015
Coming to now, the story of life not as a practical lesson in wisdom as such in a parable or teaching only casual experience for individual. Experiencing this wisdom will change your knowledge gained through the events of becoming with the kingdom of heaven. Ways on the tree of life or paths which are ordained or divined in the Lords or spheres build your learned life knowledge. Adapting as a disciple on the natural skill of the soul shows a person whom, the individual is in a pure state of self and exponential in the ***** of the tree of life.
As a child of light I lived happily joined in the union of spirit, my young soul always with the Almighty Father and Creator in the Tenth heaven. From a dream of the past awaking as a watcher of an extremely large craft inside the entire vessel I could see animals each of them were named and had most important characteristics from the Father. From high aloft in Heaven to the boat a watch was taking place omnipotent over the last life within. Many hosts and angels spoke once I was inside the boat but wasn’t as a soul like a spirit invisible I saw and heard. Angels divine in accord to works of commands were at work in heaven whole groups of choirs known as orders were not ever interrupted by my watch. Trumpet sounded heard in the spirits from heaven to the sea and rush gate of the heaven’s upon the earth. The name of angel that sounded and captured fallen in the thirteenth month; Tebae-et, into the stellar order of gates or fallen paradise.
A child of light borne in spirit always with the hosts or different characters in life such as Chanokh (Enokh-Father of Melekhi-Tsedek order), but it was either in dream or warden amongst crowds of souls touring in celestial spheres with paths of light on the tree of life. Walking outside my house the morning after my dream, I felt as if I could float in the air body and soul light as a feather. Surrounding me was Topaz, chrysophrase, jasper, chalcedony, and amber gemstones still transparency like crystalloluminescence. Above me sapphire with alabaster and my soul looked down upon me with white eyes shining light out of them in a robe covered in my names brilliantly shone in gold light in the temple of my soul. My body was in euphoria and I stared into the future and realms of heaven, seeing into the seven seals as celestial wardens. The divine experience was wholesome pure enrichment to my soul each word I had in communion with the throne of supreme majesty firm with glory, order, and unconditional loving care. Differences in the Father; whom was a body of so many names and creations perfect in commands, recordings, gates, cycles of hosts myriads, elementals, migrations of stars, and firmament upon firmament.
The way of the most holy spirits as complete body of the Father the original tree of life, which is known completely in the true names it was created as. The spirits, angels, guardians or incessantly serving hosts help the Father governing of the kingdom of heaven in the four parts of man. The structure I remember is perfection with tongues that fill the heart with everlasting laughter, hope that cheerfully overcomes in a soul victory. The heavenly abode the height of the throne gives the soul countenance of wisdom to the word unto man. Upon a single walk with the Father had taken my body and spirited my being in soul countenance of wisdom so far through the future I had saw unto trumpets of revelation.
Melekhi-Tsedek order the true religion to be proclaimed unto man the creatures such as animals, fallen accursed, the plant life in, promise, orphans, and widows were watched over on the decree or divine ordination from heaven. Ascending up to the throne; I went through the knowledge of the complete day in heaven or paradise recorded then toured the solar spheres, through the knowledge of the spirits or holy hosts that did in accordance to the orders. The process was divined in the Father’s willpower over my essence I had knowledge to what was being experienced in a connection unto every living creation. Completely, opening the mind unto Ratsiel (secret of God), through the third-eye founding of my soul into mysteries of kingdom of heaven. Voices of many named angels were annunciating with pleasant tones and choirs voices of angels by the thousands. Recording archangels kept the things that were occurring in the kingdom of man, while also serving the obligated roles of their natural being as direct personification of God. Organized, synchronized, and in spirit of prophecy patterning so perfected without error moving about in every way structurally sound through commanded orders. Systems of planets were kept sealed in the seven hallways or wards that divide heaven’s celestial nether space from the foundation of firmaments of word and universe unto the highest Lords signs of zodiac places. Above Almighty Father can sit omnipotent as ascending angels, spirits, or orders can go the entire flight focused on the Father’s throne. The orders of body were eminence Seraphim, Cherubim, Wheels (Thrones), Dominions (Authorities), Virtues, Powers, Principalities, Archangel, and Angels. Although the kingdom in spirit was always changing and becoming according to the cycle of the sun’s orbital sphere into the gates of each day on a 28 year cycle and 7,000 year unto 7 days in heaven the Lord a light-giver and also Lord of completion, Sabbath day.
A fresh gust of wind and a light pure feel was a regular experience while awakening my mind I learned of the Elders of heaven whom had crazy stories like when Samson had the might to slay the lions or tore down the temple of Dagon. I knew the hosts and things that had become in the kingdom of heaven to allow the might shone as a show for the heaven, but also act of the devils in his life. This knowledge was in a book the scripted the entirety of all the acts that take place as a divine act, once a celestial being was in visitation in spirit. The seraph Ratsiel (secret of God) investigated the acts of the temptation of Adam by Chavah and the acts of the archangels in response to the threat. The accord to the acts of everything that exists in the accord to knowledge of the solar is obtainable through this book, the book of knowledge.
Later in another dream I met the minister of death in spirit which as within a myriad where thousands of spirits were at works performing the acts in which is their existence and adapted behavior as a role in realms. Being in one place while still seeing into a complete different world or plane of existence doing as is need or divined in nature. Black darkened pillars came down on me as this space ship shaped like a pyramid with the patterns of natural earth red and black like lava years after a volcano. Around me each pillar stood as a being in realm invisible to my eye except for one being on a throne centered in the myriad the throne of death. Fiery torment in flames along with brimstone flowed in two pooled lakes parallel from one another with a long path going from gate to the another gate leading to Sheol or Hades. A base foundation of the throne is a horizontal shadowed hallway with many smaller pillars which give no support to the throne, while the path is vertically centered. Two stairways go up to the platform of the throne one on each side of the platform decorated with images of Baaliyal in form of a torrent. Death sat upon the throne with darkness like the appearance of black smoke blowing from his mouth a complete skeleton. Skeletal body covered in black cloak with a screeching voice like a woman’s long fingernail’s scratching a chalkboard. Terrified I walk my being over the site of my soul-mate who is on my like side and here with me she is like a dream and become in multiple places at the same time. Beautiful she was consistently becoming in hosts of cherubim changing into many different forms of the adapting natural instincts of animal’s behavior for survival, she is tan Carmel skin color and flesh uncorrupted by any mans thoughts of lusting ruin. Passionate vivid dreams of a                maiden lying in an alien jungle full of plants most like a rainforest but yet close to the planet’s beaches, wearing a purple robe. Dark and warm humid with a damp feel to the observer of the smooth cover of the claylike terrain of the solar sphere. Again I dreamed of her while she was separated from me by the prince of Tyre or the cherub covering the mercy, she ran amongst different hallways while in the tower of Babel and giant nephlim watched with other gods in gold cursed trying to look down on things in spirit. I walked up the stairs and could see myself from outside of myself, seeing my form as a human being in appearance most like Michael or Melekhidael with breastplate of gold without a helmet. Death screeched out at me and I saw an ancient giant of hell also the spirit of Tanhumeth trying to send me into the past. Awakened into a new form I walked through the gate vertical in the chamber beneath death’s ministry. Sopheriael Yahweh took me into the spirit of a seraph Hadaneriael then, into the 10 archangels of punishment over the 10 nations of Babylon the great which took me into the depth to the ninth circle of punishment for a reign in gates of the Phul seal or in Phalek. My soul was the loosened stars of Kesil through Samuil the poisoned messenger a discernment spirit involved in the surfs of the accord of the kingdom of dark princes in paradise, the divine comedy Queen of Angels enchanted songs counted into paradise. Darkness in the kingdom of heaven, with the ability to paralyze minds with seraphim hosts of terror, I walked through the brazen gates of Hades seeing everything on fire but also thousands of thousands of different forms of creations each rarity seen with delightful insight to provoke interests into any living being. The life paths of a multitude of creations would come through Hades and become baptized through spirit’s fire of pure refinement spoken as worth in the golden city, precious daughter of the loom, here in accord to John the Baptist’s   prophecy.
At a young age of 6 years old I began to refuse the world or play directly into the kingdom of heaven which was a lonely elect of self in my family also in the church my family attended. Wicked spirits attacked the gates of my inner ear where and had began to tell me of things that would happen in future then, keep me from being with the Father completely in heaven. My memory started to fade in fear that I would only to struggle if I kept learning. Gradual disillusion way from the throne began while I was only a few years old, the devils were wise in deceit most from the tree of knowledge and future mistakes from which I saw rolling with wheels of heaven. Moments of times in the future I would soul determine things into happening from the spirit of prophecy it was something I kept special between the Father and mines relationship. Constantly I would hated life and wanted to die, feed into temptation, stole, and spoke accursedly cutting my relationship from the Father.
Was not until I was seventeen years of age when I felt an overwhelming feeling like I had just explained something about the firmament of heaven which usually gives me this same feeling like a gust of wind in my person with a prestigious self worth from outside of self comforting to my soul. Looking up into the pitch black night sky, I saw a strange and odd formed constellation of stars above me I raised my arm and pointed at three stars. As if on command or through a governing of the stars each was loosed and fell immediately after pointing to them. Excited as the skin of my body was stinging as hairs stood to the point of super natural acknowledgment of the world’s great mysteries finding depth in the human soul I watched the sky then turned to the east. About to use the marijuana I torched a bowl of green bud then thought in the medium mostly of the kingdom and Father in heaven. In the zephyr region of the sky I saw a light floating, soaring, flashing, and moving faster than anything I had ever seen in life but on movies scenes. Astonished again I watch the spirit jumping around in the sky with multiple purposes and clear intent to do for the Father most high. My only other witness to this was my black minx cat shadoe, whom I looked at and said “I going to have a vision tomorrow” then finished two more hits of the cannabis before leaving to my room in the basement of a two-story house.
Awakening to the day was full of feeling of mystery I didn’t tell any of my experience from the night before. On October eighteenth in the day I smoked some marijuana went to Crook County High School and a blood drive was setup, I planned to give a pint for my first time ever so I went to auditorium where the blood was taken from my arm. Feeling faint and in hope for a high opposed to school I left and was excused from classes. Arriving at the house I stopped my Suzuki Sidekick in front then went in and downstairs to the place after the last step knowing something amazing was about to happening I uttered the name Metatron. Linear thought was tremendous while spirit balanced on a pillar and the first seal Arathron had me in celestial hallway warding the ancient spirits from the night before. Sitting down in a lazyboy recliner chair I first start the satellite television turn it on with remote, the spirits are crazy making grandeur boosts of how I can control everything like that remote but from mind. Flipping through stations I begin to change the channel in accord to how I sense and feel the spirits. Crazy things start occurring watching until I was seeing a celestial vision. Hearing my mind from above it was intriguing and making my pride compulsive like no one living I was experiencing these sights. As a mode of characters in a set ordained function were becoming visible on the tree of life but each were in a different realm not visible to the other. Beautiful alien life most exquisite to the eyes in the planes of other worldly adobes just doing into a set way of commands rare without repetition. Nine characters panther, eagle, falcon, wolf, coyote, Siberian tiger, and one man with blonde hair came into view in a dense rainforest like jungle each was adapting to the environment but they were only one soul becoming the entire time. The forest was no longer and the upper places had new hosting since I had entered and changed things with my thoughts, I became the soul of the characters. Seeing upwardly was a flight to the top of the extreme heights of the Father’s presence through the third seal of Phalek. At the arrival of my being I saw the most adorned and absolutely marvelous splendor of white shine like that of the sun’s rays hitting snow filled fields. The Father’s presence so handsome and gorgeous I have never seen another beauty like it only his eyes were so bright shining when he created my being as a star to his left-hand above a white marble pedestal of wisdom. Father had most elegant white robe shining in purity and sat upon a throne center below seven pillars known as the tabernacle of creation or tabernacle of seven days. In the presence I was pulled back down I felt spirits by the millions entering me, fusing to the dawn star in me finding a place inside me. Possessively filled with spirits till an evil pride overtook me and I felt ever sinful or dark taint of the soul. Lightening fell on the seventh pillar in the tabernacle blue bolts streaked downward as I fell from the presence back to the sphere of Adam’s where I heard two voices speaking. Red clay-like surface with rough igneous and metaphoric rock on the solar planet were a tree had burned to charred pieces. Sin from the Tree of knowledge was present as a spirit she was a young apprentice of the ancient one or Athiquelis. Introducing herself with flaming hair of red orange flames, her eyes shone as big red gemstones of ruby and a body covered with a black dress that faded into the natural darkness of her nature. Waving and floating in the air seducing temptation in her words that spoke into my mind and not from the channel. Soothsaying feminist voice would move me to her place and origin beside a large eleven foot pillar of smooth dark bla
I am a tidal
wave thrown and
tamed, by the moon only. Yet eternally
morphing, the moon, which
is never the same and,
always is. Pushing and
pulling and back and
forth and waves and
surfs and tsunamis
and ripples and yet never
stillness.
Sun light streams through the picturesque windows
   Cut to streaks through white cloth curtains
Birds chirp, cows graze, horses nay
   Fresh cut grass surfs the wind
Flowers bloom and fill the senses
   Breakfast feast a organised chaos
Coffee, tea and toast
   Stained jeans, warm shirts, big boots
Goodmorning
   Country kitchen.
Trying to capture a morning in my house the way I remember it when I was growing up.
Mohammad Skati Jan 2015
Waves swim like us ,                                                                                                       High or low ,                                                                                                                     Big or small ,                                                                                                                         Lovely or ugly ,                                                                                                                    We swim in the same sea with                                                                                             Those waves ....................                                                                                                         All surfs get ashore to welcome us and                                                                                    Some of us ride mountain-like waves                                                                                           To prove that they're great and wonderful .................................                                                All waves including those broken ones                                                                              Swim into the unknown ..................                                                                               We can swim like waves ,but                                                                                       Waves are stronger than us .....................                                                                        All seventh seas have different waves in their                                                             Big bellies ....................                                                                                                         Waves travel faster than us                                                                                          Simply because that's the way with them anytime ..............                                        We like waves and                                                                                                      Waves like us too ..................................                                                                          ___________________­__
Poetry First Sep 2017
submerge their trembles
     the intoxicated stars of the night
 into the arresting allure
 of moonlit seas

    under the shimmering cloak
           primal flames of passion lovers invoke
     revel stars in moonbeams wet
   yielding liquid baroque

        crash silver waves
        on compliant sands of submission easy
        gather bliss-tinted surfs
        in starry ecstasy

         flow tranquil waters
        in the envelope of dawn's golden fill
           glow in embrace of gratitude
         souls two in fulfill
Raven crosses the threshold
Hawk, a protector and a visionary . . . stands watch
Together: a great change is gonna come

Raven sculpts the formless into shape, awakening
Hawk to an inspirational message
Together: a pathway to higher consciousness

Raven mines the darkness
For facets of light, where our true self is found
Eyes wide shut, eventually leads to our souls purpose

Hawk surfs the primordial forces of life and
Can't see so catches an updraft for improved perspective
Eyes wide shut, eventually leads to our souls purpose

Raven brings the ghost
Hawk brings the quill

Together: Turtle Island medicine
Raven symbolism: healing, intuition, protection, magic, shape shifting, creativity, help with divination, wisdom, eloquence, trickster

Hawk symbolism: messenger of the spirit world, focus, leadership, vision, creativity, soaring above the mundane

Flickr: http://bit.ly/1tUaalY
onaono Nov 2013
I’m not the one who sails with grace
Tempestuous seas
broad as the moon

I’m not the one who stood in her firm legs
Sorting waves of ambition with equilibrium

I’m not the one who resisted equable
before unearthly weather
I’m not the one who faced bravely
A simple stormy header

I’m not the one who surfs
oceans of emotions
I’m the one who swims from dot to dot
I’m the one who knows who I am not.
Parag Gupta Nov 2013
It’s evening
The hawkers at the station are loud
One is selling lottery tickets
The girl in her old dress, and new earrings caresses her earrings to feel their weight in her hands
She looks at the lottery tickets and wonders why people believe in them


A local comes along with a wave of people
She stands upright and surfs the wave to stay
She knows this isn’t the local she is waiting for
She tells the boy she is with that she had a great time
And he thanks her for a wonderful evening.
He looks at her face one more time, not quite ready to say goodbye yet
He looks at the clock at the station. It’s precisely 8:06 PM
The local will come at 8:08 PM.
He is hoping it’ll be late today.
He needs those extra seconds to prepare himself.
Certain goodbyes in life are harder than you thought they would be.
He looks straight into the eyes of the girl
And sees his reflection in her eyes
Scared of what he sees, he looks away
The girl adornes her new earrings again
She looks at the clock
The old rusty clock still shows 8:06 PM
Time had slowed down for her.
She feels the platform shaking
She fears it is the local approaching earlier?
She hugs him without a seconds delay
Surprised, the boy blushes. And continues the embrace
He whispers to her and tells her, that her earrings are pretty
She smiles
Perhaps this is the best way to say good bye.
The clock is now at 8:08PM and the local is not there yet
They both smile at each other, then look at the clock.
The boy can see the local approaching. He hugs her tighter once again.
And makes sure she doesn’t see the approaching train
She slowly slides out of his arms like sand from a man’s fist. He tries holding her firmer, but in vain
They both smile at each other and say an awkward bye.
She boards the local and tries to find a seat.
He waits patiently at the platform waiting for her to look out once more
The local is about to move and his heart is beating faster than the engine
He can feel her sight on him and looks her way.
She has a crooked smile with which she waves at him.
He waits at the station till the local moves.
He walks a bit with the local and then stops next to the hawker.
He waves at her one more time and watches as the train goes.
He looks at the hawker and wonders why people believe in lotteries.His phone buzzes in his pocket.
He has a big grin, he won the lottery after all
He walks out of the station with a jump in his step as he pats the Bandra station board.
*still an amateur at spoken word*
chris iannotti Jan 2013
ACT I

DAD: in his late 50's.
TRISTAN: around ten or eleven-years old GLADWIN: in her early 40's.

TRISTAN Dad?

Scene 1
Interior of a cheesy, unkempt motel room. DAD
channel-surfs the cable television, the remote in
his right hand, a cigarette in his left. He's
sitting on the edge of the bed. TRISTAN is on the
bed behind him, crying.

DAD
Yeah bud?

TRISTAN
     Is Mom gonna **** herself?

DAD
     Well, I hope so.

TRISTAN Dad!

DAD
     (Chuckles). What?

TRISTAN
     Stop! I'm scared. What if she does?

DAD
     Why are you worried? I'm not that lucky.

TRISTAN
     (Screaming). C'mon, Dad!

DAD
     What? (Chuckles again, longer this time). I'm not.

TRISTAN
     Dad, stop. What if she really does?

DAD
     Trist, don't be stupid. No one who's really going to
     **** themselves tells you like that. They don't sing it
     out loud. She's whistling Dixie.

TRISTAN
     (Sobbing at this point). Dad, I love Mom.

DAD
     (Pause). I know, and I-
               (DAD'S cellphone rings. He answers
               immediately)
     Hold on, Trist. It's your fat mother.
     Hello? Yeah. Yeah, you have this kid scared to death.
     Would you just tell him you're--What? Alright, Glad.
     Well enough's enough. (Pause). Okay. (Reacting loudly).
     Oh, quit screaming in my ear! Trist, (extends the phone
     to TRISTAN) here.

          spotlight comes up on GLADWIN, who is stageleft,
          lying in bed and on the phone.

GLADWIN
      Trist! Trist? Say goodbye to Mama. I'm going away.

TRISTAN
     Wait! Don't do anything bad, please.

GLADWIN
     I'm gonna swallow my pills, Trist. I'm gonna take them
     all and I won't be around anymore, honey...

TRISTAN
     No! Mom, don't!

GLADWIN
     ...so just say goodbye to Mama and don't ever...

TRISTAN
     Mom! Stop. Please, stop, just don't!

GLADWIN
     ...forget that I love you.

           Spotlight goes out on GLADWIN.

TRISTAN
     No! (Looks at DAD). Dad, she can't!
               (He drops the cellphone)

     Oh my God!
               (Leaping off the bed and fumbling with
               the phone in his hands, he hurries it to
               his ear)

Hello? Mom? Mom?
               (He closes the phone and quickly reopens
               it. He dials GLADWIN'S cellphone)
DAD
     Trist, take it easy. She's fine. Stop calling and go to
     bed.

TRISTAN
     She won't answer! (Breaking down). She won't answer.
     (Lets out a piercing cry). Dad!

               (DAD lights another cigarette and pulls
               TRISTAN onto the bed and under his right
               arm)
DAD
     (Rubbing TRISTAN'S back gently). Go to sleep, babe.
     She'll be there tomorrow morning.

TRISTAN
     But--

DAD
     Ah, ah! What did I just say? Everything will be okay.

TRISTAN
     (Calming, but still anxious). You promise?

DAD
     Promise, kiddo.
It's not a poem. Just a scene. I hope you like it!
David Barr Dec 2013
Abbreviations are obscure.
Aren't they?
But I bow my head in certain familiarity with the letters: A.S.A.P.
We have been here before, in yesteryear, today, and eternity.
It is plumbed in the unfathomable depths of what we call "space".
The diversity of experience is tangibly present.
I don't know about you - but I can just about cut a slice of it and eat it, right where I stand.
Talk about having your cake and eating it!
That is likened to the freedom of a bird of prey, as she surfs the thermals of the Great Expanse.
Klaus Apr 2013
Instinct becomes arbitrary when my willpower deters my integrity
Aspirations are mere illusion when my intuition exceeds my ailing grasp

A ******* creep of disintegrating fantasies releases
a
sense
of realism.

Nicotine surfs my limbs
as thoughts align with tectonic disasters.

Malice masks insinuating balance,
An inevitable roar of discontent prefaces
A cruising tune of initiated indifference
yet hope
Nicole Lourette Feb 2011
I cannot write about it anymore-
the shame,
the fear…
How can I tell anyone when my secret lays
crudely hidden inside
the trunk at the foot of
my bed, camouflaged by music
sheets and the dusty Playboys
that my brother passed down to me.

I never asked for them anyway.

I hide
in self-isolation
safe from the unknowing uncaring
judgmental bloodthirsty oblivious
eyes of Mechanicsville,
Maryland.
Maybe I could catch a horse ‘n buggy
and work my worries away—

No—
they would sense my disease
and throw me to the wild dogs;
more like Labs and Puggles
but who’s keeping track.

I can’t even walk the halls anymore.
Ostentatious girls smiling, winking, tossing
their hair back—
pathetic.
I keep my eyes to the floor.
If I allow myself the luxury
of looking up I might
see their arms…

Firm, rigid with muscle
and that just leads to the shoulders
and neck-
broad and thick,
trembling with laughter—fear
skin so smooth—kissable—no
the face…

eyes back on the floor.
Building Service Workers missed a spot
I say to myself as the
ache below my waist
slowly dulls away.

Isolated. Home.
kickin' back, watchin’ TV with the bro.
Innocent stuff till he channel surfs
and gets called into the kitchen to wash
his dishes just as the vile remote decides
to land on MTV.
His lazy *** better wash
those dishes, cause I am not
about to dry my hands out
for him; lotion’s getting expensive these days.

***.
That man on the screen has a nice one.
No shirt—
shoulders muscle back ****
calves fingers hands arms
neck hair face –

I’m aching again,
Gotta get out of here before my
brother sees me and calls me
a girl for the way I run.

I need to get out of this life—
this isolation…

College.
I requested a single.
Living with another man would be
the death of me.
I spend my weekends with my
iPod in my ears, drowning out
the masculine shouts and laughter
of frat boys playing Ultimate
Frisbee on the Hill.
however—
I do not allow myself the
        luxury of looking…
        broad necks rippling shoulders
sweaty shirts toned legs
beautiful faces –
I can’t stare or they might
invite me to play.

There are support groups—
safe havens and potential
friends who will understand.
Maybe.
Just maybe.

First meeting.
So many men –
understanding smiling beautiful—
I think I’m gonna come back.

He welcomes me.
asks how my first year is going –
I’m not afraid to look at his face.
our fingers touch as we walk back to
our dorms—
—and I don’t feel so isolated.

I can finally throw out those dusty
Playboys now.
Dramatic Monologue
Adam Childs Oct 2014
I am the lazy
Laid back surfer
Lounging and living
Drinking cocktail martini's
With my disheveled hair
My parent despair
For what is the hurry
Making no impulsive decision
For why the hurry
With so much of this fun
In this beautiful sun
As I talk to Dave
Waiting for the perfect wave

When forces of financial
Destruction smash against me
Wave after wave
Wash over me
As I am a rock and
Nothing penetrates you see
As I am the cliff that pushes
Back at rough sea
As a thousand years of
Character are washed
In my rock face
For I am the perfect surfer
Simple needs, dry perspective
As it is only really money

Standing on my board
I remain on top
As I am always objective
Swallowed by no
subjective under current
I keep myself in balance
Never engulfed by emotion
Like the many that fall
As I sail over emotion
Like the eagle sails over sky
Wiped out before
I now stay on top
Because I know where to stop
And remaining alert in
These financial waters
For there is a slight risk
Of meeting great whites

I am the perfect surfer
And surfs up today
Well rested I move swiftly
As I seek the giant wave
The perfect cycle
As I slip into the tunnel
Of the perfect wave
With water and emotion
All around me , I remain
Dry and objective
As i enjoy the thrill and spill
As white waters splash I dash
And dance and play
On the waves today
Effortlessly gliding
I feel the blissful froth
As i am taken further
And further

Life would be so much easier
If we could all learn from
The perfect surfer
Lucy Tonic Nov 2011
When did the world drive you mad
You angel, caveman, protégé
Surrounded by cardboard and insensitivity
Who told you your worth was determined
By riding above your painted tires?
**** the mockingbirds
Stay in your beautiful garbage world
Surfs ablaze, ocean waves swallow the buildings
And Bennie brought the jets, gliding in armored cars
Did you open your tequila factory up there?
I'll make sure to ask the tour guide
Or get a road map, when I get there
(Your head met your hands in a way only you could understand)
Inspired by Basquiat
Mercury Chap Dec 2015
Moving here and moving there
Moving a million miles
With eyes red, eyes dead
Tapping a million times.

It's no teleport, no  airplane,
No magical ride
Instead of walking out the doors
In the pixels we confide.

Aimless tip-tap like water drops
Ticking as sound of time
Punching letters, beating keys,
Trying to make a rime.

Lovely surfs, lovely speed,
Not so lovely is sleep,
When the ghost of eyes
Stuck in the mist of lies
Screen to screen takes a leap.

Pixels here, pixels there,
Pixels all around,
Life here, life there,
Real life all gone.
Real life all gone.
Leal Knowone Jan 2015
all your time putting worth on work
while the world dies and the hurt just surfs
blood and tide being pulled by night
cleansing cycles of moonlight
I can't mourn from a lesson learned
pigs demise at the end of the knife

at the end of the of the knife
at the end of the of the knife
I sit at the edge of the the knife
mourn from the lesson learned
all your time

make the money
I roll the nickels
yes you see this game it is mine
street flows full of blood
yes it flows with the blood of the swine
I'm a ***** a *** a hobo, a box car and jug of wine
bad and good they go together
must except one to understand the other
you see that everyone will have their day to die
just give it time
I got a motorcycle and a sleeping bag why do I need a job
Castle Of Sin
Jacey Sep 2013
There was this movie.
It was really popular when I was a kid.
I remember this baby-faced boy, and the old bald guy.
The one from the 90's.
Well he was dead, but the boy saw him anyway.

I'm like that.

I see dead people too.
Ghosts.
Walking around.
Talking.
Talking to me.
There are all these, shadowy figures.
These outlines.
Of people that I knew.

There's one.. he's blonde.. and he's high.
His hair is twisted and wild and he surfs, on snow.
He tells me stories that I remember, but the endings are all different now.
He's different.
Just a shadow.

I loved him.

But now I see right through him.
He shimmers and disappears.
All the while,
so certain,
that he's alive.
Tulip Chowdhury Jun 2014
Hot summer day
by the seaside,
dipped in the sea
waves come
rolling, rolling
breaking into surfs
spraying out high.

A drop of salty water
reaches my ears
goes deep
and I hear
the sea start a tale
an endless one
about mysteries in its deep,
countless life, flora and fauna
wrecked ships, drowned bodies
mermaids, dolphins, whales
octopuses, sea anemone and more
endless tales unfold.

I am lost on the land
captured by the sea
still telling me its tale.
Aztec Warrior Feb 2016
ANCESTOR SPIRITS CALLING**

The other day u gave me your heart,
it was bleeding in a poem,
beating on drums and
calling to kindred spirits in the night;
describing the pieces torn
ripping u apart.
What’s that u say,
I am who I am,
but who is that?
U say I am who I am
yet this was stolen from me
beaten, ripped
torn away in eyes that
do not see the spirits of the Earth
or the dreary, continuous pain
carried on ripples of time
never fading,
still flowing
after all these years
of shattered life.
And yet u say I am
who I am,
but why?
Why am I only
who I am to you?
Seen only within your eyes
and point of view?
Seen, stolen, defined
by your Eastern skies?
~~~
Don’t I also walk a
path with streaks of red,
drifting, flying on blue sky clouds
carrying me to gentle streams
and sun set dreams?
Why can’t I also follow a path
that sings to me
from forest shadows
beneath a moon of my hue
and left scented
by my ancestor’s sorrows.
A path where the Turtle
speaks of the Earth’s motion
as it surfs a solar wave;
the Eagle drops it feathers
for me to find
so I might write
the Wolf’s howling story;
the Bear rears her cubs
to sing love songs to
the white tailed deer
and Blue Jays guard the moons night time tale
of how humans gave birth
to a world of pain.
~~~
The other day u gave me your heart
it was bleeding in a poem
dripping a life denied
seeking still a gentle setting sun
and gentle waters
not found under Eastern skies.
A heart listening to different
beats all at once
trying to decide who I am
as you say,
but I wonder,
am I?
Isn’t this something
I alone decide?
The drum still beats
the dream of no tears
of ancestor songs
pointing to the path
of I am who I am
knowingly,
willingly!!
~~Aztec Warrior/redzone 3.31.02~~
(written using pen name 'redzone')
Sufrfering from major writers block and have been looking through my old notebooks for inspiration. But I found this long ago poem that was written some 14 years ago. It is the result of a conversation with a friend who is half white (mother), half Sioux, "two toned" as he says. The poem came out oof this conversation. This was posted at a now defunct poetry site years ago. Thanks for reading.. the music is Dr. John's version of "In A Sentimental Mood", cause it is kinda bluesy and the conversation we had was "sentimental"
https://youtu.be/2ks8RWt9Bqg
Unnamed May 2014
Words on paper, notes on sheet music cannot express what only the night sky can. For fire and ice eternally dance in the farthest reaches of time. An adventure, that is all the night sky is. It embodies the unknown, which we reach our fingers out for in every blink of our eyes.

The deep blue of the ocean. The great purple of the mountains. Nothing can compare to the ever lit darkness of the night sky. Where the light surfs upon its foe for all of eternity. The night sky is a battle. Light and dark, a large scale of my soul. Where one star flickers out another one is soon to brighten itself to humanity.

One night is all it takes, in the cover of darkness, to have worlds of light touch your eyes.
One hundred days are worth a single night under enchanting beauty.
Tulip Chowdhury Jan 2014
I wait for the sea,
wait for the endless stretches in blue
the plundering waves
rushing, crashing
foaming with surfs breaking
on stretches of sand.

And then the sea,will take me in
as I plunge myself in its arms
will hold me tight
while I feel the water heaving
pulsating with a force never known,
playing with my being,
its wetness, the vastness, the mystery
is a love never known,
all my agonies, pleasures and pain
it will **** from my body,
while every drop of water
caresses me, my skin, every pore.

I'll forget the chaotic world
and give myself to the sea,
it will hold me, I know
even take me down to its core bed
and love me endlessly
will keep me so faithfully
for I yield to it
in full knowledge of what I gain.

— The End —