Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
CK Baker Mar 2017
there’s a barnacle scar
deeply ingrained
on the basalt stack
at mark thirty two
whispering summer winds
scented oil
cotton and roe
as waves brush
and shape
the sandstone shore

the briny air
and lost erratic
set a tone to this
pollyanna portrait
it's andrews undulations
and gifted benches
its concessions
and traces of the barry burn
its sculpted driftwood
and sanko lines
make this picture
almost perfect

children play
as venom spews
from the caterwaul pair
those odd looking mates
casting smiles
with arrested despair
settling shots
swiping bugs
dipping and darting
as photo men
and muscles
and long neck seabirds
make their turn

the hunched hoody
and his sorted sidekick
get their fill
(of moss and rubble ~ chubby and kelp)
nice to meet your acquaintance
the pho man would say
an odd drop
and ironic turn
from those horrific corners
of timeless desperation
down by cannon bridge

harbor seals
and carriage horse
are fronted by
raven shade
jolly tides pause
in quiet bays
(with curious looters
and *** pickers)
sand merchants
and field totems
all streamed by the light

cirrus strands
blanket the
outer edge
hovering craft
and shimmering willows
bolt the evening frame
blood orange
and tethered
with a filtered glare
bottle-nose dolphins
and seabirds
(and shifting tides)
are all settling in
for the long night stay
Jack Jenkins Oct 2018
heavy is the tide
that swallows lungs and organs
depression inside
//On anxiety//
I have all these **** words stuck in my throat but I can only manage to write 11 words.
James LR Jul 2018
Spilt upon the breathing tide
The shadows of our former pride
Stained with gilded, rusty gore

Songs upon the breeze still scream
From barren bog and skylit sea
Once were sung but nevermore

Clouds cry crimson in the lake
The moons and stars the sky forsakes
As darkness falls on ****** shores
Stephen E Yocum Aug 2013
The waves rush in and out again,
Legs useless, hands limp, arms bent,
The masked ones have departed,
the cutting now has quit.

Silent, though I wish to scream,
Brain it is pounding,
in a preamble to explode.
White light and incessant buzzing,
relentless pain is throbbing,
conveying its full extent.

Hands and kind face suddenly appear,
Holding blessed instrument,
Approaching now quite near,

Into my drip it does commence,
I descend into the depths,
white to grey to black again.
Down I go in welcome spin,
into the embrace of oblivion,
Ah, Morpheus my dear,
dear sweet friend.

Wake me not until I'm dead,
Or 'til the tide does ebb again.
Hospital stay 2011, Brain Surgery.
The Greek God of Sleep; Morpheus"
And namesake of a common pain
reducing addictive drug, much
abused by certain seekers of
emotional relief.
Ivana Rodriguez Jun 2018
Ocean tide, please wash away
All of the misery from yesterday.
And my past, and the winter.
White, frantic snow that made me bitter.

Draw in the sunshine and the love.
Take back a previous life that was rough.
Ocean tide, I know you can
Help me see my love again.

Ocean tide, release your wave.
Blend in with the melted snow and rain.
Move my boat to find my treasures,
Or my pile of long lost letters.

Gold locks and chains buried deep.
I thought that my love was one to keep.
Ocean tide, do be brave,
Though this path is somewhat unsafe.

Ocean tide, it’s getting late.
Do not make me sit and wait.
Search the seas, maybe sky.
I want to see my love tonight.

Splash around your waves of salt.
The loss of my love was all my fault.
Ocean tide, do me well.
I’ll keep the secret––shhh... I shall not tell.

Ocean tide, it’s now or never
To find the person I thought I’d lost forever.
The wind is too light to drift you astray.
Please don’t take long or my dead heart will decay.

There is a secret that I only know,
And the time seems so very long ago
That I stepped up and set out to find
My one true love with the ocean tide.

There is the secret which I only know,
Washed away together with the past and snow.
The secret is that with the ocean tide,
Forever one may never hide.
Tanay Sengupta Jul 2018
You feel depressed and lost
For all the pain and the cost.
Your efforts have gone in vain,
You are struggling to stay sane.

It is so hard to remain in the light
When you have already lost the fight.
You are watching the curtains closing,
While the world is sleeping.

Your life has been a bumpy ride
Always changing with tide.
And as the sequence continues,
You are scared that you will lose.

Yet, here you stand with the will to try.
Yet, here you stand prepared to fly.

Tanay Sengupta, Copyright © 2018. All Rights Reserved.
Just another one from my lab. So, far it has been just easy lyrics from me and this one is no different. I am trying to keep my poems very simple and humble. I really hope that you are enjoying them.
Daisy Marrow Jul 2014
Feel the tide.
I am the ship.
I am the captain.
The ocean is a savage
the way it pulls my body,
slinging me around like i'm weightless.
I will not surrender to this beast.
The waves mean nothing to me.
I've been fighting this savage ocean for a century.
100 years of getting carried away across these waters.
Isolation is my home.
It's all I know.
I brought this on myself.
I ran away from land and into the water,
unknowing of the horror it holds.
But I will not surrender
I am the ship.
I will not kiss the ocean goodnight.
I will not fight.
I will float on until the day comes I greet the sea.
My lungs will sting and my head will rush.
Leave my body in isolation.
Let it be a peace offering.
So the ocean wouldn't have to carry away another ship that day.
Tegan Aug 2018
Do you hear water wherever you go?
The hum,
the slosh,
the drum,
the stroke.
Always moving, potentially drowning us slow.
Like how happy people hear music
you hear the tide,
and the moon tugging gently;
you have nowhere to hide.
Vicki Kralapp Sep 2018
Dark death skirts beaches in blood red,
as coffee colored swells wash in more
carnage to the shores;
we are blindly poisoning our waters.

Toxic plumes of red tide cover the seas,
beaching whales and seals,
manatees, and fishes;
we indiscriminately **** our sea life.

The brisk breeze off the Gulf
brings the smell of rotting death
that is all around;
we are blindly killing ourselves.

Our lifeblood,
the seas and its inhabitants,
slowly slip away;
we disrespect nature.

Mother earth mourns
as we continue
to ****** its inhabitants;
we are dying.
All poems are copy written and soul property of Vicki Kralapp.
Yağmur Kaya Dec 2018
I just don't understand what you feel
First, you're here
Then, you're gone
You act like you've got nothing done
You're always in a hurry
Always in a rush
You act like you've got no one to love
I'm here
And I always will be
I know future is not trustworthy
But I got something to hold onto
I got you
But I wish I got you, in my arms
I want to feel your touch
Your hands' cold or warmth of your heart
But then
You're just,
Lost in a state of confusion
Along with those winding roads
Fighting against the raging tide
Trapped in this place inside.
Those demons in your head
They are playing tricks again
But never underestimate your strength
Your down though you will survive.
Now you can blossom like flowers
For now your lost in disaray
And you walk that winding road
Just where are you heading too
No one can say for nobody knows.
Lets hope one day you'll find
That path you've been looking for
And reach out for that sunny sky
And leave those dark clouds behind.
A simple little poem about a not so simple time in life
Called adalesanc.
Fiona Runs May 2016
feeling the pull
holding ankles
i can't fight back
hobbled i fall forward 
it drags me under
cold waters
clawing at the ocean floor
i lift my head
**** in air
to struggle free
my feet on earth
I am me

i feel
the powerful force
it draws me near
it's compelling
leads me like I lead a horse
raising my force
twisting turning  
out of its grasp

Daily i am pulled
out of my flow  
my habitat
my own
true nature
in this daily battle

One day i will be
too weak
it won't want me

I will be free
M Solav Sep 2018
Please - hear my voice, your good old
Friend - is talking in to
You - let it ring inside of
You - let words echoe in
and Through.

Please - hear this prayer of a
Child - you once were, don’t let the
Tide - of this moment sweep
Aside - and the water'll flow out
and Through.

It’s not time to start over;
The bridge's almost done.
Can't you see from where you are;
That good ol' sun rising on the shore.

Please - the other side isn’t
Far - nothing else's ever
Achieved - carry yourself a little
Further - let your legs walk across
and Through.
Written in July, 2016 - for a friend going through hardship.
Zoe Mae Jan 2018
Shapeless like a monster in the sky
Tilted like a glass eye
Howling like a creature at the moon
Reaching for my spoon

All I ever wanted
Was to be a silver bride
And to hope he doesn't notice
The dead girl at his side
All I ever needed
Was the will to be baptized
So they could rinse me of my failures
In the waves of a red tide

Faceless like a stranger in the night
Clutching my heart tight
Hiding like a vampire from the sun
Reaching for my gun

All I ever wanted
Was to be a purple bride
And we could have the little funeral
On a crumbling mountainside
All I ever needed
Was the will to be chastised
Then I could wash away my suffering
In the waves of a red tide
I tried not to let go,
But she slipped through my hands.
I didn't realize I was against the flow,
Unable to adjust to the shifting sands.
Now, I sit in this emptiness longing to see her again.
I miss her presence,
Like the barren land misses the summer rain.
I want to drench in her essence
And feel alive.
She has been drained out of me.
I regret going against the tide.
There was so much that I wanted to see.
Adventures I wanted to share,
Of deserts, mountains, and the sea.
Tell her that I care
And know if she cared about me.

Oh Life, I miss you!
I realize as I sit here in my agony.
I am sorry for all I made you go through.
It is such an irony!

Because as a kid, all I wanted to do was grow up.
I could not value you when I had you.
Now, you have left and I miss you.

Oh life, I miss you in my agony.
I am smiling in my sadness,
It is such an irony!

Tanay Sengupta, Copyright © 2019.
All Rights Reserved.
We often value things, after we have lost them.
Ward Curtis Oct 2016
In childhood it’s slow
For we’re too young to know
Unaware of this treasure
While our lives it does measure

Through pleasure and pain
And sunshine and rain
In our joy and our sorrow
It gives us tomorrow

But no one escapes
As it silently takes
The days and the weeks
Up behind us it creeps

As months turn to years
And our youth turns to fears
From the clock on the wall
We hear its soft call

Now ever aware
As it passes each year
In the rush and the haste
We still allow it to waste

As day turns to night
For its passing we fight
From our slumber we wake
In our heart there’s an ache

For Time waits for none
It can’t be undone
It marches alone
To a place unbeknown
emma jane page Jun 2017
heaven reflected
face to face

molten with light
and the heat of all living things
evening gulls
gathering, scattering, chatter-sing
lifted marionette wings

caught in the sway
resting in the rock

fly, fly away, fly away
April Feb 2018
When there seems not much to fight for,
Nor many left to fight,
When the dark is closing round us,
That is the time for light!

That is the time for courage,
From those both great and small,
That is the time for love and truth,
For those must save us all!

That is the time for honor,
For friendship's outstretched hand,
For kin to stand together,
One strong, united band!

So now that shadows threaten,
And hate destroys our peace,
Now fear and greed prevail,
Now, now is the time for these!

Now is the time, my comrades!
Now you must heed the call!
Now you must stand together,
Or we must surely fall!

So listen to me, comrades,
Remember my words this day:
Love and peace can triumph,
And drive this hate away!
Never lose hope; It's sometimes all that's left.
CK Baker Jan 2018
who lit the candles
placed eloquently
behind purple rock?
the sculpted radiance,
chapel grace
wound in a chosen
defined way
down the spiral
stone stairs

street cars dawdle
the packer slew
biding merchants
and frontmen
shuffle their wares
as the madman
and pock face
sing their
holy blues

cut jazz echoes
over the accompanying
gabble and drone
incense and haze
pour from
a lower trap door
sack fish, truffles
and splendid crafts shine
inside the stained glass fronts

a wide mouth snapper
with a bloated tongue
greets the
morning tide
(not camera shy
in the least!)
the fish traps
and beaneries
bring life
to the flourishing causeway

hula hoops
and ballers
join the
cobaine stage
favoured rogues
and mac jacks
speak easy
of the big daddy

beth’s triple by pass
taking firm hold on
tricky ****
and the nutcracker
maze ways,
taggers and
lost tunnels
of cu chi
strike a
nerving blow

a poised finger man
belts out his tune
(with a sniff sock
and iterating glare)
his nosey neighbors
cut artisan bread
(with a white wine
and jelly spread)
midwives push forward
for an afternoon
toddle and stroll
Butch Decatoria Aug 2018
Hate’s RedTide upon the beach
From the sea her casualties
The dead are algae red  
War’s Red Tides upon the beach.
Next page