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zebra Jul 2017
i voyage through your soul
draped with passions.
in hope,
between flames
driven by the thoughts of phantoms
minaret of memories
and i speak to you of eternity
my heart a difficult shape warms to the curve of you eyes
the sky shivers silver
i’m always close to death

an evaporating sun
swallowed by a shadow
in a vast dark sea
being undone like a little virgins dress

the universe
a cradle of dead leaves
i am all obstinacies and troubled sleep
a stone among stones
"love is man incomplete"
and i have tears no one wants
Shofi Ahmed Mar 2017
Keep rolling, like sailing, rowing the science voyage.
Discovering a new discovery, then much happens:
a new crescent, new moon on a new turn is found,
yet a night to be invented eclipses it furthermore.

Will the voyage float at the newest dark energy frontier?
Will it now pierce verily the ******-skinned heaven’s last barrier
that divides the seen and unseen, holds the uncharted water?
Will it by design decode or recite the word, the language
the lock is coded in, the very command written on the stone?
Till then it won’t move, nor does one see the skin black or white,
and till then one won’t stop the sun lighting up the night!
The poem is from the book Zero and One: The Relativity of Science and Poetry available on Amazon.
Leal Knowone Aug 2016
I find myself in the kingdom of heaven on earth again, the place held in your heart.
euphoria even in questioning my win.
I awake then close my eyes for the voyage I will embark.
I blissfully dive back into the magic idea of you, immerse myself in warmth.  
I feel you in my arms again soaking in sweet loving embrace.
Your presence brings hope.  
I feel whole again. I am left here sincerely wishing I did not fall from grace.
still held in your heart.
longing for that piece of heaven.
Just a taste.
Feeling so whole again.
In ecstasy, I awake just a part
awake
apart
harlon rivers Jun 2018
.
Red sky at morning ...  sailors take warning !!!
First dawn's light steals away over the towering Cascade Head.
A heavy autumn dew dripped from the Whaler's bow rails
as sun rays  flashed like beacons from rain-forest  headlands on high;
where Pacific Northwest rivers September equinox dawning ebb
pushed us mercifully unto the chilling stiff autumn sea breeze.
Dappled sun reigning through the pinkish purple morning sky,
patchy fog adorning the awakening inshore headlands atop the bay,
shining from the pearly gate’s mission bells higher ground ,
beckoning another fisherman lost and found at sea come home...

Heaven’s lighthouse alerts the celestial sky
of the impending eminent soul journey,
highlighting the distant horizon’s breaking swells
capped of white meringue  sea foam.
Sea gulls escort precious cargo's final voyage,
gliding gracefully in the shadows of the firmament,
our lungs filled , revitalized with the salty air's poignant elixir
Pelican vanguard's white light reflection guiding our vessel seaward ,
alone in a perfect storm...

Northwest gales standing up the ebbing tide’s uprising crescents,
waves pounding in rhythmic flow;
calling all angels!   ― my ruminating mantra and plead
The Clatsop Spit’s dangerous song resounds the stark reminder,
life's raucous changing seasons, prevailing winds beckon
with the allure of siren’s call,
that now is nearly here ...

The countenance of flowing salty tears liberating release ,  
vast ocean's raw sheets of saltwater spray would not hide .
He just sat and stared at the seaward horizon
while the telltale tears flowed,  perhaps an unspoken dream
of a merciful final surrender with eyes wide open,
love steering our vessel west where sun shines to set ;
now far beyond the visible ache,  for mine own eyes blur
trepidation teardrops rained as sheets of frothing sea.

The wordless conversation known,  the compass full circle drawn  
like the sacred salmon's cycle ends to nourish back ancient sage
unto its own mandala ―  forever beginning life,  eternally drawn
through river estuaries ― stirred by ebbing infinite tidal pull ...

There is an oppressive weight found within paternal understanding,
and yet,  as certain as the dawn promises the inevitable setting sun ;
all things must pass as sure as all things begin ,
someone you love most,  longest in short life ,
has come forth to break bread at sea as the torch is passed ,
sharing life for the last time comes too soon ― with little warning ...

There was an emotional unidentifiable hollow pang brooding ,
as if letting go gradually,  yet potentially instantly,
that drains every last drop of a breaking heart ache ;
waning strength swallows down hard ― stifled sighs ― lumps in throats, words better left unsaid ― only cleansing tears flow, knowing when they start to purge,  they might not want to stop again.

This moment's final autumn’s changing season’s waning ebb
That final riptide will forevermore change all other rivers’ flow
where oceans set mother earth's rivers free until the end of time ...

My father ― a man's man who seemed to find a peaceful Zen ;
an unfinished life was reborn that day to see it through
as my hands grasped the wheel , compass held steady.
The son to carry on the weight of love and compassionate understanding ;
love born in the blood inspired the fortitude to carry on.
As a life flashed before my eyes on that final raging Pacific sea,
instincts mused by ancient Tyees’ souls stirred drawning sun's
radiant rays of perception ;  accepting this life on earth
would never be the same but would just simply be ,
knowing this light's shine will never glow quite the same again ,
yet radiate a more deeply vivid luminosity...

We melded into that first day of Autumn,
falling silent , and yet our heads held high
There was nothing left to be done but pray with eyes wide open

“spirits of all oceans of mother earth …
show the sacred salmon's tragic heroism, the way back home to peaceful waters”

Few words were spoken as everything was silently said.

"To everything there is a season and a time to every purpose,
under Heaven"

The Outrage cleaved the surging Pacific's heave, knuckles white,
the wheel held sway,  climbing mountainous long ocean swells
breaching the south jetty's giant boulder walls ;
there rolls the mighty Columbia jaws,
where all Rivers suffuse with vast oceans, eternally free ...


.... Harlon Rivers    .... September 22nd . 2013
Post Script:
With fondest loving memories of my father's life and times shared~
So much of this day's memory is deeply repressed and each year I try to free a little bit more but each year passed has been privately circle filed, yet I try again to be set free..   Purging emotions so intense that they are nearly blacked out... I did not realize the basis of depth until later private moments... It was in fact the day of the Autumn Equinox a few years ago,  a final birthday celebration of sorts combined with bringing the Boston Whaler Outrage, home.   Dad passed 1 week later after this trip from Pancreatic cancer ...we spend the final 72 hours alone together at Hospice after his birthday..."Crossing Over"

Not unlike myself, there was an inherent restlessness to my father. We found a peace, unlike any other ― one with nature. He used to like to say he felt at home on the ocean. He went out as many as 30-40 miles alone on the rare occasion the Tuna came that close to the NW Oregon ― SW Washington coast...That may not seem like much in land miles, but you cannot see land from that distance and the Columbia River's confluence with the Pacific Ocean is known as one of the most dangerous bar crossings in the world. I thought Dad's life would have a very different ending...this one never crossed my mind, letting go is far more difficult than hanging on ― rivers


June 18th, 2017   Fragments of the Sea
https://hellopoetry.com/poem/1954243/fragments-of-the-sea/

June 12th, 2012:  Memories of My Father's Traces...
A tribute to my father ...  
https://hellopoetry.com/poem/1995383/traces-of-youa-fathers-tribute/

Thank you for reading ― have a great summer :)
quiel Aug 2018
a sinking feeling
i watch the leaves fall
through my window pane
the leaves glide gracefully in the wind
dancing in the air, the seasons have changed
we long to embark on a celestial voyage
twisting in space,
lying beside comets and stardust
unbound by gravity,
the leaves fall.
(out of all that lies beyond space, i sit beside you as it rains)
75/100
I have spent decades digging my grandfathers’ bones,
I was told the graveyard is a the wealthiest place
Yet to discover my roots that were wiped by the storm of colonialism.

The rainbow was too ashamed to shine,
Stars too Black to be seem,
Words to heavy to be lifted.

Yet here I’m,
Going deep in the grave with my shallow words.
Hoping to find the bones still attached to the flesh with the soul kept within.

They have forced words down his throat
As they wrote in his head “RIP” John.
“Have you ever search for the death among the living?
Turning your GF a statue of your mom”
COZ I HAVE….
Purcy Flaherty Oct 2018
We embarked upon a titanic voyage to a new world.
It’s said that behind every great man there's a great woman; But a woman needs a man like a fish needs a bicycle.
7 bells rang late that night as our ship stuck fast between the devil and the deep blue sea.
Fingers tapping code, as land lubbers rowed hard pulling for freedom, Sailors quickly battened down the hatches and stowed away the Riff-raff, for they knew fine words would butter no parsnips.
Some fiddlers on the deck played “Nearer My God to Thee", As the bubbles rose from beneath the sea, come buckle down boys or the devils to pay, come hell or high water he’ll have his pay.
Row drifters we're leaving this place, two whales, a sea of souls, a man in the water with a monkey on his back, a sailor with a whistle, a cat on a fiddle, ten decks snapped, scores more baptised, abandoned.
Row drifters we're leaving this place, two whales, a sea of souls, a man in the water with a monkey on his back, a sailor with a whistle, a cat on a fiddle, ten decks snapped, scores more baptised, abandoned.
Bless those souls lost at sea!
Pagan Paul Jul 2018
.
In a costume of conflicting emotion,
of crossing diamondic colour,
with regal posture in grief,
the Harlequin and the King,
a display of opposites
creating a composite being,
that eases her body
gently into the waiting water,
to float away serene,
on her journey to the nether.

Midnight blue and emerald green,
the regalia of ermine,
both ostentatious and humble,
robeing the aspects,
understated in crowning splendour,
the gentleman King bows,
and the Harlequin laughs,
the bi-polar reaction
to the tragedy of misfortune,
with a sting in the myth-tale.

With the dark hues of mourning,
a legend passes on her way,
across the streams of time,
on a voyage to discover herself,
carrying her Harlequin in a purse,
holding her King to her breast,
owning them both in her heart,
the medicine wheel spins,
knowing the grapes of wrath
yield the wine of spite.

The motley speckles of attire,
a starry parody of night skies,
lighting the decorated funeral barge,
gliding along the rivers of space,
worn with the mantle of sorrow,
and it sails into the sunset,
as the Harlequin and King observe,
the mandala turns,
the bier of the Queen departing,
bears their sadness forth.

The Harlequin laughs and laughs 'til he cries,
his heart grows cold, then withers and dies,
whilst the King, statuesque, memoirs his life,
lamenting the legend of a Queen, his wife.



© Pagan Paul (24/07/18)
.
mind is a wound scroll,
unwinding won't reveal it;
inward journey could!
Marco Buschini Dec 2016
Into the wonderment of your autumnal mind.
Where the skin of your grief sheds its leaves.
Is the song of your sea bound into colourful light?
The Shepherd breaches the flock of your dreams,
And the pastures breathe a sigh of relief,
As your tears of morning dew
Glisten the parched landscape.
Does your bouquet of *****
Lay wistfully in the wilderness?
The skies of blue that reside in your eyes
Serenades the coming of the tide,
Harvesting the fruit of our labour of love.
Is this a wind of smile that turns into a voyage of valiancy?
A flock of thoughts liberated with a cry of exclamation
As your fears of autumn blue
Are exiled into the rapacious wind.
Alxe Feb 3
You once asked me what I wanted to be
A policeman, a baker, whatever called to me
You would let me sing songs out of tune
So that I’d make up stories for when I grew

At first this was incredible and splendid
Broad opportunities to get interested in
I looked around at the world to observe
Yet I found every straight of hope soon curve

I see a falling leaf, green despite the weather
Cut off from the world, no lifeline to tether
I’d think of an astronaut falling through space
And I’d determine: Astronomy? No thanks

I see a bee, buzzing about. Lost from his friends
A wanderer no doubt. His work with pollen came to no end
No matter how much he did, there was always more
Daily worker’s life couldn't be for me, with so much left to explore

I see a glimpse of a squirrel, and then it’s scampering up wood
To hide its berries and acorns, chattering my ear off as it should
And then I hear silence, as the squirrel fled away
Now anything with nature reminds me how lonely I felt that day

So as I became older, I seemed to shoulder
Every fresh idea of a future I had became colder
I wonder, when did my vision become so narrow?
If I’m still young, then why do I feel so harrowed?

My star light of possibility, when did you become a telescope?
That blinding light, when did it shrivel my last rays of hope?
I know some of it is a little wonky but that's due to me wanting every stanza to have the same rhyme scheme soooo                       feedback? please?
Anais Nov 25
I sail to a world
Created by my
dreams
and paint the waves
with images
of dolphins in
the sea

I sail upon those
seas, those wrapped
in cotton and dreams,
and seek the voyage
to the Bermuda Triangle,
to Atlantis, to the seas.

I sail in my ship,
Mighty and grey,
Find it decaying and
sinking away,
Find the seas becoming
charcoal, find the skies
melting away,
Find my innocence
ripped from my hands

I sail no more,
simply sulk behind
a desk, find my
childhood tucked
away,
Find my ship sunken,
Find my dreamland
fading away.
Dr Peter Lim Sep 12
The voyage once taken
in fullest harness
with burning flames
of desire should be enough
in retrospect

youth has outgrown itself
for even Ulysses had felt
the gnaws of desolation
and alienation-- time
changes the entire complexion
of every experience and event-
there's rest in respite
to conquer is to surrender
to unrest and discontent
every quest must find
a peaceful and self-accepting end--

early I started when
my every breath
was an inspiration
the world it seemed then
to belong to me
in my exultation
as a hymn of self- salvation
I sang--too sure was my conviction-

vox clamantis in deserto....

I set sail,  quite long ago
I went, I saw, not even an inch
I managed to conquer
not a hair-pin wiser

and now as the years
have stood apart
and seen me in my tears
my boat I have burnt
every part of it I have blown
by the unknown shore alone
I witnessed the last dying ambers
while from some strange nowhere
came the cry of  wild birds' lamenting moan.
CR Franklin Feb 2014
Behind my sternum, exists a void.
Made long ago on this voyage.
Trail and error; attempting remedies
From school, to art, to melodies
Continue to spirits, and Buddha
All these attempts: futile
Confusion, anger, melancholy
They say, "look in to find it's seed"
But how would they react
If they heard what I retract.
That I've looked introspectively,
From sphenoid to chest cavity
And found nothing but a void
-::-
Oceans blue and waters deep;
adventure hides while i seek.
Vast clean space that doesn't age-
Yet, ever changing as a wave.
The world is out for me to find,
full of nature’s undefined.
The world, she calls and beckons me-
persuading me gently out to sea.
-::-
Nico Julleza Jul 2017
Long Journey,
yet it was never too late
to crest the memories of yesterdays

A voyage that was finished before
and here I am gazing beyond
through oriel windows once more

An ocean wide stretched from afar
with a quill and vellum on my hand
I wrote these words and understand

life was never easy reaching its core
self must refine from silver to gold
dreams red as velvet, white as snow

Pure as the heart of every little boy
molded from a mother’s fervent love
brave, a father’s heritage in honor of

Blessed by the gift of God up above
toiling day and night from my storm
He never left me lonely, till all is won

I gazed back to the oceans and saw,

Someone familiar...

Could it be…

Land A Home,
it was a moment of spring
I step the shore, my heart felt its beat

And Lo, my guardians caress on thee
for there is no sweeter victory
than the ones who truly loved me
#Family #Guardians #Ocean #Nature #Life #Love #God

Have A Blessed Sunday
God bless you Poets
There is no Place to feel Victory... But in Home

(NCJ)POETRYProductions. ©2017
Valsa George Jul 2018
on a sea strand,
have you watched empty shells
mercilessly tossed from sea to shore
and from shore to sea?
      
often I shrink and reduce to such a shell,
with jagged and broken edges
colorless and empty

among many a debris cast on the shore,
i lie half buried under the sand
waiting for some mighty wave
to wash me away
all the way to the sea

how tedious is my voyage
shuttling from him to her
and from her to him
unable to openly confess
who weighs more
on the balance of preference

through how many alleys and by ways
I have wandered, questioning my identity!
am I a puffer fish, being toxic
the fisher men have discarded?
a jarring note in a discordant symphony?
I wonder....! I often ask myself!

destined to grow
in mercurial climes,
planted in arid shallow soil
with the tap root trimmed,
branches pruned,
growth denied,
I, a stunted bonsai!

still I dream to be a towering tree,
that in profusion gives fruits and shade!
a ****** aspiring to be a Goliath
a hollow reed,
longing at once to be the singer and the song!
When a divorce occurs, the threat of losing the home and losing the purpose of life confronts a child, especially in the younger age. Children of divorced parents experience a real trauma and they begin to doubt about their own identity!
Logan Robertson May 2017
beauty kept swimming tense in ****** pond
an ugly duckling on her tail growing fond
lil ducky he feathers so pluck
lil bare swan his sitting duck
her maiden voyage abate for his magic wand

LR-5/12/17
Christian Ek Mar 2014
On a vehicle bed I voyage, wearing
headphones which lead the way.
Repelling neighbors screams, these jolting sounds travel through my body, breaking locks and knots.
Unraveling the fabric across time and space.
Is there anybody out there that feels the music flow sensitively ?
I enter myself more deeply, I lose myself to the voices and words of chemistry.
I lay in ecstasy frequencies.
Becoming one with musical melodies.
On the ocean of life I
Dropped  thought-pebbles
Resonances in winds
Rebounding in ripples
Actions born in countless waves
Triggering counter-actions!

Cataracts of wonders, suddenly
Vomiting volumes of gold
Pouring golden flames
Into life ocean purities
Bouncing up hills and valleys
In voyage of expectations
Creating realities in emeralds!

Tumbling air in blues
Skies beatific glory binges
In endless waves in azure skies
Echoing sounds of depth
Deeper than the deep
Launching into the Deep
Harvesting immortal gold
Reaping eternal glory!
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