Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
CAN YOU FEEL THE CALMNESS OF A GENTLE BREEZE?
AUTUMN DAYS ARE APPROACHING SOON
BENEATH THE TREES, FLOWERS IN BLOOM
SUNLIGHT SETTING SOON
CAN YOU FEEL THE TRANQUILE AIR
SOUNDS OF FLOWING WATER OVER THE ATMOSPHERE
I CLOSE MY EYES SO TIGHT
I CAN FEEL THE SUNLIGHT
YOU AND I STANDING UNDERNEATH THE WATERFALL
YOU HOLDING ME CLOSE
UNDERNEATH THE FULL MOON
I CAN ERASE ALL THE PAIN
WATERFALL ARISING
WATERFALL ARISING
WATERFALL ARISING
FEELING THE GENTLE BREEZE
YOU HOLDING ME CLOSE
WATERFALL ARISING, WATERFALL ARISING
THESE DAYS QUIET AS CAN  BE
YOU MADE ME SEE
I CAN ERASE ALL THE PAIN
YOU AND I IN THE MOMENT
WATERFALL ARISING, WATERFALL ARISING
Pagan Paul Jan 2019
.
Jerrica had found Lost.
The treasure buried above ground.
The memory foam with dementia.
The quill with no nib …
she thought about feather pens.
Catching herself from falling
the swoon had caught her cold.
This **** ****** sword
was proving to be elusive
and now she was under sustained attack.
From a personal fetish.
It just wouldn't leave her alone,
creeping into her mind unbidden.
She needed to scratch an itch,
if only she knew what that itch was.

Trolls are magickally bound to their bridge.
Leaving it is usually fatal.
But Gyb had bones to gnaw,
and once he had his teeth employed
his mind was a captive onlooker.
A crazy plan formed in his head,
possibly avoiding the brain.
He took mud and formed a figure,
then some of his hair clippings
moulded into the head.
Then he took a leap of disbelief!
He looked into the river and … Click!
Snapped his fingers and fixed the image.
He cut it out of the meniscus
and attached it to the doll familiar.

“Did Achilles have damp ankles
or was he well heeled?”
Morfine had asked Choklut.
“Neither. He was the one who sneezed
and opened the Fête of the Suitors”.
“No. I think he was called Telemarketing,
he sneezed and they drew the tombola raffle”.
“Wasn't there a Goddess involved as well?”.
“Um … Yes, maybe the Goddess of Tissues?”.
“Snivel? No, she is more tears than snot.
I think its the one who turned her husband
into a swan, and made him ****** her handmaiden”.
“Oooo Nasty!”
“No, Nasty fell in love with his own profile,
and called things off with his nymph,
the reverberations can still be heard today”.
There was a brief pause … then,
“What are we doing Choklut?
We found a magickal sword and …
talking of which, where is it?”.
“I don't know. You had it last”.
Just then a serving girl gave them a note.
It said. Tomatoes, Peppers, Onions, Eggs …
“Not that side you dyk” she said.
Morfine turned the note over and read.
“Quick, no time to lose.
Someone saw the sword in the river.
We have to get to stanza 8
before it goes over the waterfall!”.
“Oh” said Choklut “I've never seen a stanza belly flop”.

It was true.
Contrary to the laws of physics.
Kelm saw the sword floating down river.
It looked like any other sword.
So he let it be, dismissed it.
He couldn't swim anyway.
He mused on the irony of that.
Nobody learnt to swim and yet drowning
was an undignified death for a barbarian.
If he could swim
he could find the fishes hiding places.

Jerrica had also been musing.
With a Poet.
That was during the last 3 stanza's.
But now …
she saw a sword floating in the river.
Something didn't quite fit.
Something was not in the right place.
She placed the Poet back in her breast pocket.
'If only he wasn't just 4 inches high' she thought
'he is rather handsome and intelligent'.
Bingo! She had it. But she didn't want it.
Armydiseases Principle of Liquid Dispersement!
It states!
Introduce a solid object into a body of liquid,
then the corresponding volume of liquid is dispersed
back to the nearest solid.
So, right now there is a very small flood
in the shape of a very small sword
ravishing the local area.
She decided, quite rightly as it turns out,
that she was feeding herself a red herring.

Slim stood on the bridge
staring at the churning water below.
How did it happen?
A stanza all of his own,
ruined by the intrusion of morons.
“Morfine and Choklut” he bellowed
“I'm going to eviscerate you”.
The wind carried a few of the words away,
but that was the gist of it.
“Hello” a voice said.
Slim had an accident, and jumped out of his skin.
And plunged into the cold water.
A strong arm pulled him out,
and he was face to face with a troll.
“My name is Gyb. I hate Morf Chok also”.
Nothing had prepared Slim for meeting a troll.
Not even the etti-queue-etti lessons at school.
'Would you care for afternoon tea?'
seemed rather inappropriate.
Gyb broke the awkward silence.
“Look! Sword floating”.
Slim didn't look.
Convinced the troll would eat him.
Thats their way. Distract and devour.
But he couldn't help it, he snuck a look.
And the sword slid on by gently bobbing,
tiny little runes glinting in the sun.

For its part the sword was serenity itself.
Chilled out to the max.
Resting on the water. Relaxing and reclining.
Life was good for the sword.
It had just passed a boy fishing,
poking his rod down a fish hole.
It had passed a young woman,
who looked confused and flustered.
It slid under a stone bridge.
A troll with a doll,
and a man with questionable odour.
And then he heard the roaring.
He sent out his senses,
no mean feat for a sword,
and 'felt' its surroundings.
Its image eye caught sight of the future.
It was an effing great waterfall.
And the future was the way he was heading.
For now.

Narrative Interlude

At this point in the story the author, Pagan Paul, is compelled
to inform the reader/listener of a complaint received
from Messrs Morfine and Choklut.
The substance of which amounts to the following:
That the said author is willfully under using their talent
as supporting cast and denying them access to many stanza's.
Furthermore they are threatening to expose the authors
'irregularities' in his relationship with Princess (name redacted).
The author, Pagan Paul, responds thus:
I should like to remind Messrs Morfine and Choklut
that, with astroke of my quill, I can eradicate them.
Drop them from the story all together.
And with reference to Princess (name redacted) -
'Its my Poem and I'll irregularit if I want to'.
Dear reader/listener prepare yourself for stanza 9.
It has a waterfall in it.
Maybe Morfine and Choklut will appear, maybe not.
They are the ones over a barrel.


Minutes after the sword floated by
something else caught her eye.
To boys on a barrel, in the water.
Boys barreling along or a barrel buoying along?
Choklut noticed her by the bank.
'funny place to have a cash machine' he thought.
Doing his best to impress and look brave.
Morfine waved and nearly fell off.
Suddenly the barrel lid opened
and Slim poked his head out like a tortoise.
“What the …?” said Choklut.
“Just repaying a debt boys” he said.
“But you owe us nothing” Morfine replied.
“Oh but I do” snarled Slim
“I owe you one times intrusion into your own stanza”.
He ducked back inside, and slammed the lid.
“Of all the fatherless ...”
“I blame the author” said Choklut.
“Yeah well, he is the one who's gonna be sorry,
we've just muscled in on stanza 8,
and relegated that waterfall to stanza 9” Morfine chimed.
“Morfine. Morfine! I hear the waterfall coming”.
“No! Not now. He has to leave it until 9 now,
we are about to cross the finish line on 8”.
The waterfall loomed.

Actually the waterfall knew nothing of weaving.
It just stayed where it was, pouring.
Spectacular, it was a very pretty waterfall.
It must be. It attracted tourists.
And it had fun!
It loved watching detritus tumble,
teeter on the brink. And fall.
Especially tourists.
It was over 300 paces high,
less than 40 paces wide,
its descent magnificent liquid ballet,
sparkling droplets shining like jewels,
forever transcending light refraction,
and plunging, plunging, plunging,
into a gorgeous azure puddle.
About ankle deep.



© Pagan Paul (17/01/19)
.
3rd poem in my Strange World collection.

Part 3 out soon :)
.
The Waterfall,
Is blue with silver highlights.
It appears clear and clean,
Rapidly flowing into the stream.
The water is frothy,
Where it falls to hit the water.
At least things like this,
Are caught when they fall.
The sunlight still shining,
The water doesn't mind.
It continues it's journey,
Searching for it's destination.

The waterfall.
It's beautiful,
A sight to all.
But how do we know,
What's hiding underneath?
We hide pain,
All in our fake smiles.
What if this waterfall,
Hides things in it's beauty?
If we wait long enough,
Do you think we could see?
Marian Jun 2013
I love the flowing waterfall,
With graceful sounds it roars,
And flows down the cliff.

Surrounded by ferns and palm trees,
Is its gushing water,
I love the flowing waterfall.

Such a beautiful waterfall,
It's mighty sound echoes through the mountains,
With graceful sounds it roars.

I love the sound of the waterfall,
As it's roar echoes through the mountains,
And flows down the cliff.

*~Marian~
Cascade, a form created by Udit Bhatia, is all about receptiveness, but in a smooth cascading way like a waterfall. The poem does not have any rhyme scheme; therefore, the layout is simple. Say the first verse has three lines. Line one of verse one becomes the last line of verse two. To follow in suit, the second line of verse one becomes the last line of verse three. The third line of verse one now becomes the last line of verse four, the last stanza of the poem. See the structure example below:

a/b/c, d/e/A, f/g/B, h/i/C

To make the Cascade an even longer poem, use more lines in verse one. For example, if verse one has 6 lines, the poem must have seven stanzas so that each line of verse one is reused as a refrain in each following stanza (a cascading effect).
Kayden Whitaker Mar 2015
All that flows it the waterfall.
Her lifeless body lays in the grass.
Grass that is damp with the morning dew and splashes from the waterfall.
Her eyes are soulless and her brightness is gone.
In a few moments her lover will find her.
Tears will fill his eyes.
No words will leave him.
Only thoughts of her demise.
They shared so many moments near the waterfall.
Do those mean nothing now?
He finally gains his composure
And makes that desperate call.
He picks up her body.
He carries her to the water.
Under the spray of the waterfall.
He lays her in the water.
She floats for a moment.
He takes out a pocket knife and slits his own throat.
He dies there with her underneath the waterfall.
Joel M Frye Mar 2011
We've heard the tales of eyes and smiles a hundred times before,
but for this one I write about, I'll have to add one more.
Though songs of faces say so much, they cannot tell the all,
so I shall sing of one who wears the golden waterfall.

The signals of her hatred for this world of little lies
is registered within the tell-tale candor of her eyes.
On this plane of human falsehood, such honesty stands tall,
and so I sing of one who wears the golden waterfall.

The poetry of words alone has not the grace to give
her passion to discover all the love she wants to live.
A warmth too great to be contained in her body, largely small
flows through the hair of she who wears the golden waterfall.

So from aside I watch, a half-read book upon her shelf
as she throws light upon the unkind mirror of her self
and wonders if the things she seeks will listen to her call -
look!  See them run to one who wears the golden waterfall.
The beautiful soul from "She Never Knew" strikes again...only, this one she got to hear way back when.
1978 JMF
Benji James Jul 2018
Never felt this confident
(In love)
Baby girl
It's not enough
To say I'm in love
I never expected this

There are so many things
I gotta say to you
But let me just
Start by saying

I wanna kiss you
under the waterfall
beneath the starry sky
(We can do it all)
Nothing so wrong
Could ever feel this right
Girl I've never felt more alive

Am I nervous
(No)
Got butterflies,
From the moment
I look into your eyes
Girl, please stay in my life
I've never been more alright.

There are so many things
I gotta say to you
But let me just
Start by saying

I wanna kiss you
under the waterfall
Beneath the starry sky
(We can do it all)
Nothing so wrong
Could ever feel this right
Girl I've never felt more alive

Is she perfect
(Yes)
Oh the way she talks to me
Girl, I'm falling to my knee's
Never been addicted
To someone like this
Your lipstick stains my lips
From the touching
When we kiss

There are so many things
I gotta say to you
But let me just
Start by saying

I wanna kiss you
under the waterfall
Beneath the starry sky
(We can do it all)
Nothing so wrong
Could ever feel this right
Girl I've never felt more alive

Every time we walk
Along the beach
At night
I'm holding your hand
Then our eyes meet
And we fall into the sand
Making out as the waves
Crash in the background
Something so wrong
Could ever feel so right
Yeah I have never felt more alive

There are so many things
I gotta say to you
But let me just
Start by saying

I wanna kiss you
under the waterfall
Beneath the starry sky
(We can do it all)
Nothing so wrong
Could ever feel this right
Girl I've never felt more alive

©2018 Written By Benji James
I had to re-upload these lyrics again, just because these lyrics are in my new Youtube video. If you would like to watch it. This is the link... https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=91o885A8DdY
Kerli Tulva Jan 2015
Gentle drops of Love
Slide down my heart
The foggy waterfall grows
When the drops gather in one.

The reflection
Of the crystal clear lake
Which resides at the bottom
Of the heart in tears
Is formed in the retina
Of the lucid eyes.

The lake is icy and cold
When the drops are frozen
To melt again in the warmth
Under the tears of Love.
Inspired by Vangelis.
Dancing,
Thrashing,
Cascading

Down the barren stone tower,
Through the craggy, coarse cliffs
Refining, polishing the necessary features
And streaming for the duration of my adventure,
One might wonder: Why?

Why! Oh what a question—
To purify what will soon be soiled in a moment’s time,
And yet, unremittingly,
Over, ad nauseam, again.

I cannot die.
No agony or desolation can destroy me.
Amaranthine, ceaseless, everlasting!
I hold steadfast, staunch, unrelenting.

I am a waterfall.
Nought can destroy me.
I am forever...
AW Aug 2015
Rushing over me
A stream of lifted spirits
Upwards waterfall
Emma S Apr 2015
From time to time
You forget the world around you
All you feel is nothing
your mind is empty
Your heart is calm
Nothing matters
You feel hypnotised
The river you just created
That lets the red anxiety flow
That leaves you with a feeling
Of numbness
The river is getting deeper
You are getting calmer
You do it over and over
Even though you know
It will be even worse very very soon
You still have now
You still have this
For once you feel ok
And you wonder
Maybe it's ok
To create your own waterfall
I'm sorry if this triggers anyone. Please be safe. Take care. Remember; those who don't believe in magic will never find it.
water flows from your heart to mine
I am set on fire
Many waters cannot quench
this raging desire
I am being consumed
but here i stand,
renewed

you flow from my head to my feet
you drip from my hair past my cheek
soak through my skin and infiltrate my chest
I am set on fire
but it is here that i find rest

In the heart of the waterfall
I dance
motionless

In the heart of the waterfall
i am bathed by your hands

let me soak
in the song of the waterfall
let me sit still in the flames
i won't run at all
let me soak
in the song of the waterfall
i want your heart
i want it all
Hanna Sep 2018
My sister is a waterfall,
she hushes and she roars.
She’ll drown you in her tears and make you cry in thrill.
She’ll hurt you in her war.

My sister is a waterfall.
She doesn’t talk in words.
Her letters are always tumbling over the edge
until you flee like the birds.

My sister is a waterfall
and soon she will be dry.
Nothing but cracked Earth and eroding rock.
Gone with but a sigh.
the summer heat is oppressive
it's so hot and humid in the south
you become drenched with sweat
just standing still

the running streams of mountain water
rushing through rocks and then crashing down on ya
the chill of the waterfall freezes the intensity of explosion
on your skin as the water beats down on ya
there's nothing like it in the world to standing underneath a waterfall

I hug the wall of stone and feel the cold slimy surface
and my hands run through the moss growing on the side

what an amazing reprieve on a hot summer's day
God bless the mountains of North Carolina
God bless Appalachia
God bless this place called
home

home of my heart
where living waters flow
Simon Clark Aug 2012
My eyes waterfall as I watch you walk away,
And my cheekbones form a river as you drift away,
My lips earthquake and tremble as you fall through the cracks,
My hands are vines; grasping; my skin starts to crack,
As I watch you walk away my eyes waterfall,
As you drift away the river breaks and waterfalls.
written in 2011
September Roses Jul 2018
Sit back and relax
Feel the waves wash over your back
In the melting sun
Looking at the clouds reflecting all the pinks and blues
Over the blooming hill, echoing white noise of chirps and crickets

Listen to the trickling of the slow water over the smooth rocks
Feel a warm wind brush your face
With your eyes closed
Enjoying the radiating warmth
And the soothing crackling of a log fire

Or sit and admire the shimmering spray
Of a waterfall smoothly crashing into the water of a sky kissed lake
Sunlight dancing through the vapor
Rainbows jumping through every droplet

Listen to the pitter patter of the rain, against a tin roof
Inside a warm cabin
Drifting to sleep
Soon to wake to the song birds chorus
And the blissful sun

Bask in it
And relax
David Huggett Oct 2012
At the edge of the Waterfall
My motor gone the boat drifted faster and faster.
At the edge of the waterfall as I approached the falls
helpless hopeless I thought of my life subsiding
to words and no friend message or hopes to send my life
summed to press me quickly but no time for tears in my eye
I am afraid for soon I may die.
But what the hell I lived a good life everything
I wanted with very little strife.
What may lie at the bottom of the falls as I drift closer to the edge.
The tension grows it may all soon an I suppose
I think back to a time when everything was so sublime
and peaceful and free.
I know its time so please lord take me
I will be pleased to meet you and gaze upon
your face I will know that I with your heavenly grace.
So over the edge I fall and fall and fall.
I thank you lord it is over That's all.
So the paramedic says you're lucky to be alive so somethings
glimmers inside my head with St Peter Jesus and God
I'd be better off dead.
For I have a broken pelvis and life will be full of pain.
So St Peter Jesus and God do look fine.
Check with me at a later date, some other time.

https://vimeo.com/27129652
https://vimeo.com/27129652

to see the video
Alice Morris Feb 2015
The magical sound,
of the cascading water,
natural beauty,
F J McCarthy May 2010
Waterfall
F J McCarthy on Nov 18, 2009


Water cascading over sun brown skin.

Sunlight reflecting your beauty in glistening drops.

Soft lovely curves bathing in the waterfall.

Her lover waits on the sandy shore
BianchiBlue Jul 2014
yesterday’s hope is a mystery
walking a hidden line
I hold tight in my throat
with beauty raging in a torrent
below me, tell me when to release
as my faith cascades over
this roaring masquerade
Bryce K Jul 2013
The waterfall roars
Warning those to stay away
The waterfall roars
The pathway to the hidden falls,
greenest trees and ivy walls,
Humid day and rain a threat,
Forest living, thick and wet.

Pebbles on this path to be,
Never ending, fast to me.
Flip flops make an obstacle,
For me to keep the pace we go.

The peach in hand is almost eaten,
When roaring waters reveal this Eden,
The water falls so quick approaching
seems to stick my memory's poaching.

We climb the uphill train of rocks,
more like boulders, need for socks,
Majesty miracle's tickle my senses,
Like watching babe ruth swing for the fences.

Something here is overpowering
behind the force field something is flowering,
Wet smooth rocks lay geometric,
something alive and something electric.

Native American premonitions,
Thoughts of the beginning of all of this swishin',
Waterfall dreams sparkle like diamonds,
Foam and water, slippery minded.

Brain chemical explosion.
Somethings been bound.
Something is gone
something I found
Burned in my imagination
is this place that I visited
on my vacation.
Hopi Butler Nov 2011
Large, billowing willow trees surround a small meadow, leaving no way to get out. Their branches hang to the ground, the wind whipping them lazily. The green sprouts and leaves on the tips of the branches drag on the ground softly. The trees are so packed together that no sight can be seen through the trees, no escape at all. No one can enter, and no one can leave. The bark is brown, deep crevices made in its skin. The limbs skim over the ground, swaying ever so slightly. On the limbs hang nearly invisible webs spun by clever weaving spiders. The bright green grass wraps around the bark, swaying in the lazy meadow. In the middle of the meadow floats a high overhanging cliff, no part of it truly connected to the ground. Vines cover a structure, obstructing what the structure truly is. Bright pink and blue flowers decorate the vines, adding a serene feeling to the floating island and a floating smell of nectar is carried by the wind. A waterfall flows through the middle of the gates, the cool pure water falling into the pond directly below the waterfall. The pond is covered with ripples, although nothing seems to be obstructing the surface of the pond for the moment. Below the surface flows gentle weaves of seaweed, rainbow colored fish swimming between the strands. They would jump up, spreading small rainbows on dew drops into the sweet tasting air. The cloudless sky seems to sparkle in the setting sunlight, spreading pink and red strips across the sky. No birds fly in the small expanse of visible sky, yet a small nameless tune is heard, the wind carrying it all around the trees. The tune is light, and filled with what can only be known as joy.

The tune begins to change, losing the quality of light and joy and changing into a tune of sereneness and calm. The wind carries it through the meadow, pushing it against the dark trees. The leaves begin to fall, staining the ground at their feet different shades of red, gold and orange. The lost foliage does nothing to deter the packed trees from blocking any view outside of the circular meadow, leaving it in seclusion. The grass is turning into bright gold strands, folding unto itself as it sways in the gentle wind. The wind tastes like apples, although there is no fruit on the trees. The wind continues to flow, picking up the leaves and scattering them away from the base of the trees. The pond is covered with a few stray leaves, the ripples from said leaves turning and spinning as if they were dihedrals spun by small children. A harvest moon sends out a bright light, casting a rainbow onto the waterfall. The forever flowing waterfall continues to cascade down from the floating island as the rainbow continues to color the water. The rainbow fish’s scales have turned deep colors of red and gold, and they continue to break the surface of the pond, jumping to and fro. The vines still cover the cold, metal gate, blood red flowers covering the island in stunning beauty. The meadow seems to secrete a pleasant smell, sending waves of comfort and  tranquility to every blade of grass and falling leaf.

The grass disappears from view as the ground is covered in white, cold powder. The branches on the trees dip from the weight of snow and ice, their limbs brushing the ground in small sweeps. The crisp, biting wind does nothing to help the swaying, and instead blows across the ground, sending small flurries of the snow upwards bound. It circles around the frozen waterfall, every drop of purified water hanging in place, frozen in time. The island itself is covered in snow and white flowers, their color unadulterated. The vines seem to be dead, no longer living as they were before. The secret of the gates seem to be revealed, although barely. The gate remains locked, but the vines are cleared enough that the fenced in area can be seen. The area in the middle of the island is glowing, brightly colored with the beginning of the waterfall, the rainbow fish swimming in the small pool of water. The trees that are in the fenced in area are bright with life and colors, shining as if they were in the midst of spring and not winter. Petals from the flowers that decorate the vines and trees gently fall, landing on the icy surface of the pond. Silence invades the wintry meadow, crushing upon the meadow with great strength as the wind howls silently. The sky is pure black, the only light seen is the glistening stars, all shining as brightly as the northern star. Bright strips of rainbow appear in the sky, the aurora waving like the waves of the ocean themselves. Softly, stealthily a small tune is heard to only those truly lost in the meadow’s power. The tune is filled with what words can only describe as confusion as joy and peace meld with depression and war, hatred and love weaving in and out of the tune like a needle and thread. The tune is suddenly broken, and the meadow disappears, leaving nothing behind but darkness and emptiness until the cycle repeats another day.
David R Mar 2019
In her dream, the waterfall torrent
Crashes to effervescence,
With force and verve, vivacious apparent,
Shoots arrowed iridescence.

In cruel reality, a rivulet meanders,
Blind to mountain and fell,
Downhill she flows, barely seen,
Pebbles and stones part of her scene.

Here she circumvents boulder and rock,
There gives way to shout and shock,
Hiding her head between her knees,
Longs to lose herself in the seas.

I knelt down close to hear her cries,
Allowed her tears wash over my eyes,
Caressed her soft water with my hands,
Sprinkled her sweetness o'er the land.

'Sweet stream', I whisper, 'The waterfall you dream,
Lives through its roar ‘n terror,
But life lives not in its awesome scream,
Life lives not in its horror.'

'Without you the doe could not parch their thirst,
Frogs could not breed, nor dippers immerse.
Heavenly daughter, jeweled traverse,
One silent ripple is an angel's universe.’
Juliesen Night Apr 2014
He stands beside me,
In awe of the sight before thee.
His hand has mine.

We both look at each other.
Nothing can be told from his eyes.
The eyes of Ashure haze.

"Do not be afraid..
We are home."

The sound of rushing water,
Crashing into its ever blue.
The beauty of the growth around it.
I call it home.

This was the place,
Where the wolves shall be born.
Creation of a pack.
Has just begun.

Werewolves alive.
Waterfalls of Beauty.
A family.
For eternity.
I do not ask for youth, nor for delay
in the rising of time's irreversible river
that takes the jewelled arc of the waterfall
in which I glimpse, minute by glinting minute,
all that I have and all I am always losing
as sunlight lights each drop fast, fast falling.

I do not dream that you, young again,
might come to me darkly in love's green darkness
where the dust of the bracken spices the air
moss, crushed, gives out an astringent sweetness
and water holds our reflections
motionless, as if for ever.

It is enough now to come into a room
and find the kindness we have for each other
— calling it love — in eyes that are shrewd
but trustful still, face chastened by years
of careful judgement; to sit in the afternoons
in mild conversation, without nostalgia.

But when you leave me, with your jauntiness
sinewed by resolution more than strength
— suddenly then I love you with a quick
intensity, remembering that water,
however luminous and grand, falls fast
and only once to the dark pool below.
Megan Hundley Nov 2011
you don't understand at all do you
not truly
you think
I'm a liar
that I still hold the knife
that
stabbed you in the back
[and in the heart]

kinda speechless
that you feel that way
think that way
believe it
untrustworthy? misleading?
false emotions?
can you not read?
here let me try again
maybe I can make it like braille
feel the words

it's like when the clouds stormy eyes
welled up and let fall the
tears of weekend rain
soggy, we laughed along with the thunder
and under our waterfall we let the windows
fog
tell me I lied then

or picture if you will
standing by the tree I
always parked by
it was a starry night, but we didn't see it
we were too focused on our faces
except
why is it I was the only one
drowning in the sadness that overtook my eyes
shaking with each strained, choppy breath
clutching that gray shirt like a life jacket
do you think that was all
for show?

haven't you looked at
my collection of black and white
silly letters scribbled down as fast as possible
trying as hard as I can
to leave it all
on the paper
but it's as if each word I write
is a tattoo
slowly invading every part of my skin
it's sinking in, it's staining everything
do you think this agony I speak of
is fake?

if so
if I am that liar with the knife who
led you astray and "******* you over"
let you down, kicked you around
if you can't seem to
open your eyes
and notice
just how much I love you
just how much I always have

then you don't deserve it

ill run miles for you when I know I only
have the strength for one
but don't you
dare
watch me run
if you don't even grasp
that I stabbed myself in the back
led myself astray

you have a right to
hate the wound
but if you can't see
what I feel
one day
I will learn
that I have to let go
and I will

then all these silly letters
all for you

well. go ahead and throw them away
on that day
they will carry no life
anymore
Pagan Paul Feb 2019
.
The future was heading its way very fast,
it pondered the alternatives.
It could gently levitate
and reveal its magickal powers.
But now was not the time.
Not quite yet.
It relaxed, in the way swords relax,
and waited for the drop,
a tune humming along its full length.
Tension just a distant memory.
Its point tipped over the edge.
It fell,
in the manner of magickal swords.
Gracefully.

The waterfall felt the ripple of enchantment
as the iron thing crested its … crest,
and failed to plummet.
That disappointed the waterfall.
It also felt the girl,
in the swirling flow on the edge,
fail to catch it before it fell.
It 'heard' the naughty words
and the scream …

… she had screamed
as she lunged for the sword
and missed,
the Poet had been unceremoniously
ejected from her pocket
and disappeared over the edge.
So Jerrica screamed.
She didn't know what else to do.

Kelm was stalking fish.
They hadn't been hiding in the river
so they must be in the trees.
He had his catapult ready
and maggots to fire at the fish.
Then he heard a scream
so he started off towards it.
He saw the girl staring in horror
and then she bolted off.
Down the side of the waterfall.
“What the hell are girls for?”
he wondered as he wandered off.
He decided to go and hector Bruce.

They had abandoned ship.
Well, jumped barrel.
And now they had gone awol.
But the author didn't care
about a couple of slap dash bit parts.
He hoped the Troll had got them.

The sword floated serenely.
Mattering not in the slightest
that the water was vertical
and flowed quicker in that direction.
Then it felt a jolt,
a ripple in its pond of calm.
It was slightly amused
as something grabbed its hilt.
And held on.
It felt the panic, it felt the relief.
Then it felt … a connection.
Something tingled along its length.

As his tiny arms clutched the sword
a wave of dread passed by,
waving at him with a sharp smile.
A wave waving in waves.
The Poet considered the images
and clutched harder
as nausea also comes in waves.
Instead he thought about physics.
How could it be he fell faster than
an iron sword?
And how was it possible
to slow descent to a mere saunter?
Most of all he asked
“What does this all over tingling feeling mean?”
A barrel plummeted by
too fast and too **** close.

Kelm was exploring
and had found the tiny bridge
upstream from the excitement
and was poking about,
as is the want of curious little boys.
Thats when he found the clay doll.
Ugly in a crude kind of way.
He wondered if dolls could swim
and attached it to his fishing rod.
He dunked it.
Like a biscuit in tea.
The result was a sticky mess
so he threw it in the river.
He made a decision and wandered off,
he was going to look for fish nests.

The Troll was confused.
He had accidentally discovered Hide and Seek.
But didn't understand the rules.
Morfine and Choklut were hiding
and he was out of ideas.
A fairly normal state of mind for a Troll.
And now his body was dissolving.
He remembered his doll familiar.
It must have got wet.
And he was fading out of the story.
“Goodbye reader. Thankyou for knowing me”
he says with a regretful voice.

The astonishing thing about light
is it stops you bumping into things.
And the sword was very light,
as the tingling pulsed through it.
It did not bump into the boulder
at the bottom of the waterfall.
Rather, it slid gently
into the middle of the large stone.



© Pagan Paul (10/02/19)
.
Part 3 of 4
.
Benji James Jun 2018
Never felt this confident
(In love)
Baby girl
It's not enough
To say I'm in love
I never expected this

There are so many things
I gotta say to you
But let me just
Start by saying

I wanna kiss you
under the waterfall
beneath the starry sky
(We can do it all)
Nothing so wrong
Could ever feel this right
Girl I've never felt more alive

Am I nervous
(No)
Got butterflies,
From the moment
I look into your eyes
Girl, please stay in my life
I've never been more alright.

There are so many things
I gotta say to you
But let me just
Start by saying

I wanna kiss you
under the waterfall
Beneath the starry sky
(We can do it all)
Nothing so wrong
Could ever feel this right
Girl I've never felt more alive

Is she perfect
(Yes)
Oh the way she talks to me
Girl, I'm falling to my knee's
Never been addicted
To someone like this
Your lipstick stains my lips
From the touching
When we kiss

There are so many things
I gotta say to you
But let me just
Start by saying

I wanna kiss you
under the waterfall
Beneath the starry sky
(We can do it all)
Nothing so wrong
Could ever feel this right
Girl I've never felt more alive

Every time we walk
Along the beach
At night
I'm holding your hand
Then our eyes meet
And we fall into the sand
Making out as the waves
Crash in the background
Something so wrong
Could ever feel so right
Yeah I have never felt more alive

There are so many things
I gotta say to you
But let me just
Start by saying

I wanna kiss you
under the waterfall
Beneath the starry sky
(We can do it all)
Nothing so wrong
Could ever feel this right
Girl I've never felt more alive

©2018 Written By Benji James
Brent Kincaid Nov 2017
Once I watched a waterfall
Wash all my fears away
And then I thought I saw some
Happy tears of yesterday.
The moment brought aromas
Of the ocean and the sea
I lost my taste to reminisce
And started feeling free.

Around and round the bubbles seemed to rise
To bring my life today before my eyes
And as I watched the ripples rearrange.
I loved this place no less after each change.


A breeze played near my face
And put some patience in my hair
My shoulders settled back
Where once a worried slouch was there.
I might have missed this resting spot
Had I not heard the call.
The voice of sound in silence.
The peaceful waterfall.

I am not meant to swim in empty streams
Things I cannot see now must be dreams.
I knew the past as ripples which were gone.
The future is the river further on.

Once I watched a waterfall
Wash all my fears away
And then I thought I saw some
Happy tears of yesterday.
The moment brought aromas
Of the ocean and the sea
I lost my taste to reminisce
And started feeling free.
(This was written many, many years ago. It is a song. Someday soon, I’ll find the tape and post it. For now, just imagine the sound of a waterfall being made by a synthesizer.)
Candy Flip Sep 2015
I stood there,
Tall and proud,
Half yard behind
Death drop,
Vortex form at toes,
Put fish world in spin.
Crush moss trees with
Splashing feet.
One long gaze
Left to right,
Miles of pool and stream
Spelling poetry in cursive
Through eroded landscape.
Zip down,
Junk out.
Open gates of flesh tap
Muscle relax,
Fresh release
Of human nectar.
Light separation
Casting rainbow shimmer,
A dancing upright
Tower of liquid.
Gravity outstretch
Palm grip
And connect
Via web of
Golden pour,
Chaps eye to
Mother earth.
A converging
Of torrents,
Saturating transparent terrain
With saffron and lemon.
The taste in a frog's mouth
Of sweet ammonia.
Clench,
And donation over.
A momentary meld
Of man and nature.
Those few seconds
Putting context into me:
At one with the scenery,
An extension of environment,
A limb of creation.
poetrygod Apr 2014
A waterfall of brown
Strands and locks.
Sometimes curving,
Or just flowing.
Down a bank of pebbles,
Like water from a stream.
I love the way the
Individual hairs like
Water droplets splash
From the rest of the river.
She unfolds petal by petal to spread fragrance
To make surroundings to make her presence
What a marvelous beauty with her real essence
She is what is a credence in poetical assonance

So let be the part of eternal music of waterfall
It is silent communion between call and recall
She is like a bottle of wine which is to enthrall
With its taste, charms, graces and just what all

My sweetheart I want to be part of your music
In the entire world it is only you just to click
Out of all beautiful girls you are the only chick
So let us kick together the world and  be quick

Col Muhammad Khalid Khan
Copyright 2016 Golden Glow
Megan Feb 2014
waterfall
me down.
let me fall
straight into
your arms.
or
waterfall
me down.
let me fall
don't catch
watch me
plunge
into the
cold below.
Nicola-Isobel H Nov 2011
With vehement force,
The white, weighty water,
Races between my thighs,
Grazing my fingertips,
Crashing into the wasted bank,
And splintered stone,
Scattered about the course,
Surging towards the fringe,
Of the river road,
My toes curl,
Latched to the rock-ridden surface,
Fighting the undertow,
As the water plunges,
Down the waterfall
©Nicola-Isobel H.        01.11.2011
WHAT was the name you called me?-
And why did you go so soon?
  
The crows lift their caw on the wind,
And the wind changed and was lonely.
  
The warblers cry their sleepy-songs
Across the valley gloaming,
Across the cattle-horns of early stars.
  
Feathers and people in the crotch of a treetop
Throw an evening waterfall of sleepy-songs.
  
What was the name you called me?-
And why did you go so soon?
Red Starr Jul 2011
i dream of a soft release
a gentle letting go
of responsibility, duty, life, love
the vintage film flicks and flickers through my mind
knotty, spotty, black and white frames
me, hiding behind long strands
hair, shrouding like a confessional booth
a pale, slight hand
a glinting of metal
an intake of breath
a waterfall
a lifetime of pain
pouring
flowing
slowly fading
gently falling
ending
pain, fear, finally ending
i'd finally end
Loose memories
heart's condition,
beating but alone.

A drop, tear, torn
and conditioned,
collected somewhere below.

Silent, sound. . .
...pallid, convenient,
something very slow.

And still. . .
I did, I do,
miss your love.

~You should know.~
Mysterious Aries Feb 2016
Eyes sore can’t even hide at early dawn
People will try to read what happened last night
Those seconds, minutes and few hours when I am alone
Time when I tried to pull the string of my owned kite

The waterfall unleashed within my eyes
As I travelled to a higher ground
When I saw what really on beyond lies
The meaning of this life indeed abound

At most, I pitied myself
My waterfalls were for my owned flaws
But not last night, when I saw what really laid on others’ shelf
I was hurt by a sharp blade of selflessness claws

People will look at me twice or thrice
They’ll try to read what my two stars on the face write
In fact, today I have sorry eyes
But ‘twas the worthiest waterfall last night
Andrew Durst Jan 2014
We're like
   A waterfall.
     Slowly moving
        Towards the edge.
                               Just
                               Waiting
                               To
                               Fall
                               And
                                      Break
                          On
                                   The
                                                Rocks
                               Below.

— The End —