"waterfront" poems
Just a dew drop, let alone the sea,
and a handful of earth, not the Planet Ge.
Not a shade of blue, save the rose for bee
Purely a clear drop didn’t spill in the core,
because the whole sphere feels the pinch.
Singing chorus rains down, bouncing back
to earth the only open-through planet.
No black hole is as deep as the sun jumps,
dives in the dew on every flower they wet.
Every bird in the trees sings and tweets,
yet one is stone quiet, shouldn’t even hiss.
Shh! shh, the sleeping beauty is sleeping!
Cut above the rest, the unique earth
brimming with the infinite finishing line
by design pans out to the transcended pi.
Pure spring, the waterfront by the Moon,
untouched, unspoiled is her swimming pool.
How she goes by, wetting her ****** toe
Only to bubble high up the transcended circle
If only the sun could rise high in that pole,
for the rest of species could sneak a peek.
She’s there with the capstone of the pyramid!
Shots beyond the fixed circle, netting the eyeballs.
The stars, the Moon on the move for pure freedom.
The thrilled earth did come out, smelling of roses
Off the golden cut pi-decimal-abyss digital spring.
With a handful of earth and a drop of water dew
This is a pure mirroring thanks to the original, you!
At the end of the string apt you lovely took her by hand
and she took it in emptying her heart and soul.
Earth is now too thin on stock, she is no more
Just a shadow, a 360-degree hollow flute!
Oh light at the end of the tunnel shine and show
Play in like in the Night of Ascension once more!
Apr 8, 2017
Apr 8, 2017 at 8:59 PM UTC
Lets take the day off and chill out, not stressing soaking up the lords blessings, let's go out tonight enjoy a nice meal unwrap ourselves expose our fun side peel the layers off, relax by a waterfront getting high off the emotions of us, watch fireworks toast a glass of strawberry and cream champagne to celebrate nothing bothering us
Just a night off lets communicate with our bodys flirting with the slightest touch temptation not asking for much, the night is still young so juvnille, let's make it worthwhile no dollar amount a value deal of us just enjoying us do wild stuff like we don't now how to behave ourselves, radiate is our smile viberations of our laughter makes the valley's of our heart shake, sweet lovers a savory taste
Take the time to enjoy us we been working so much not taking breaks convicted to the grind like tired slaves, not tonight it's date night we haven't had this feeling for a while now, let's takeoff day cater to each other feed both of us grapes do you want to split a cheesesteak?, nothing much just you and us it's date night take the load off
Aug 28, 2018
Aug 28, 2018 at 9:47 AM UTC
Dangerous Water
You told me
There were things on the beach
That caught fire
when lifted from the water
You told me
There were submarines
Disguised as monsters
In the the exact same waters
I told you
Not to look for these things
To stay away
From the water
Now I can't find you
And there are strangers
down by the waterfront
All looking at me.
May 13, 2015
May 13, 2015 at 7:54 PM UTC
The Moon stirs
the sea down on earth.
Down from the galaxy
its the star's waterfront
yet edging up to
the far stretched sea.
Aug 9, 2017
Aug 9, 2017 at 8:58 PM UTC
~
*drawn to a twinkling
crown of muted lights
a moment in the waterfront
of your eyes
in between circadian rhythm
and a place called irresistible
there we listen to sun-filled hymns
and children's laughter
not caring what comes after...*
~
Aug 22, 2023
Aug 22, 2023 at 3:03 PM UTC
I came of age
as one of the
many young
knights who would
mature and become
Pirates.
Our kingdom
stretched from
the end of
the world along
the cliff
lined Pacific.
To the
low side of
Alma.
The sprawling
wild canyons
of 6th street,
to the railroad
tracks along
the waterfront.
Daring as we were
we drank straight
from the
bottle while
constantly
losing ourselves
beneath the
shadow of the
Owl.
Our friendship
was a brotherhood
and a hand shake
meant a hell
of alot more
than a greeting.
Black eyes and
stab wounds
worn like
medals earned
in battle.
The ******* was
white as bone
and the girls
were still as
fresh as the
Tangerines we
picked from
our neighbors
yards
in the summer.
The young Pirates
of those days took
all this Town
had to
give.
And even when
beaten down and
hungover.
The need to
experience still
fought on for
more.
The Armor
I wore in
those early
days was
youth.
And that armor
with stood
it all.
Youth can and will
endure many
things.
Almost all things.
All things
that
is but
time.
Jan 11, 2014
Jan 11, 2014 at 7:13 AM UTC
Purple
Yellow
Orange
I was thinking of so many things
While the sun was painting a backdrop
I wished to hold onto that order
Purple
Yellow
Orange
As if nothing else mattered
Purple
Yellow
Orange
I was in the mountains again
But now the birds sang
And my ankles were boney
Wobbling against the war-zone of stones
Purple
Yellow
Orange
The snow wasn't stuck to the grass anymore
But melting away
lone piles of it slumped against, wasted rocks
That the mountain had decided to toss away
Purple
Yellow
Orange
I wished to stay here
up on the hill,
watching the sun shimmy down through its peaks.
Purple
Yellow
Orange
Like the way I lined up my socks
Sometimes the purple ones mate would go missing
It's pair left to sit lonely in the sock drawer
Purple
Yellow
Orange
I walked the hill alone
My stomach empty, my head in control
The sun seemed to dangle in the sky,
as if held up by one string
Waiting for the world to blink asleep
But the birds kept chirping
Purple
Yellow
Orange
I know how the sun feels
I feel strung up as well
My subconscious pulling the strings
While I'm only left to follow
Purple
Yellow
Orange
The mountains make me miss the sea
I miss the beach
Take me back, back
to when we walked the waterfront,
salty ocean air cutting through the heat.
Purple
Yellow
Orange
Maybe I should've jumped
when you told me we could escape
"We could go far, into the sea," you told me.
I think that's when i realized,
Purple,
Yellow
and Orange
are nothing like the waves
of
Blue
and Green.
Mar 22, 2016
Mar 22, 2016 at 11:36 AM UTC
So what I drink all my calories
I'm sane and you're not, bruh
It's never enough even to wear
what you're wearing and talk
like you talk, do you even care?
Killing myself keeping things legit in your sphere
Black sheep combine forces to feel
wanted, keeping your company
I feel blocked when you're nodding.
Yes, I'm acting just like you want me,
bruh, I'm coming up short to your haughti
ness, blessed with a sense of self
stopping just short of your level and
what the hell, what I am doing here
fighting for otherness, concerned
with the purity of water of my brothers
and my sisters of the covenant
You talk about faith when it comes
to prey that you're stalking, keep
it strong, yolo, fleek, and a hashtag
To be honest I'm scared that my hometown
will be infested with those the internet
claimed and ingest, swallowed with
speed of light, people spit out as pesticide
turning the verdant green such a ****** brown
Yes you're so on top and classy, lacking
purposely the tenets that turn a body fancy
Cool *** beard bro, girl that's a freak ***
hairdo, up in the midst short sides a pool cue
locked in your hands up inside a ******* dive bar,
midnight drive holding a pipe 'hind your
headlights, Yes you're mixing with the best
making them arrogant, such a lens to view
the struggles they been through, Weird queer
younglings in their late twenties and homeless
at some point, only the noise of the sirens
and blue lit bathrooms, keeper of the needle
rights, and happiness,5-0 lights blasting on naito, picking
on the kids white/brown outside washing
the day away with the kiss of the pabst
taking a nap on the grass on the waterfront
blessed with lives with beards and queers
passing by as they want one.
Sep 20, 2015
Sep 20, 2015 at 3:21 AM UTC
There's Midnight Ravens
along the telephone
wire.
Big black suckers
with deep dark
eyes that
see death
before it comes.
These hosts
of the end
pay me no mind
as I pass beneath
their roost.
They rudely go
about their
Raven buisness,
yelling and
******** their way
into the morning.
An unrelenting
bark drums
on from
behind
a white painted
fence.
An insane sound
like an alarm that
no one will turn
off.
I step over a small
cities worth of
ants who are
scrambling
around a crack
in the
sidewalk
clogged with
more frantic
ants.
The great flood
has arrived
in the form of
a timed sprinkler.
And all of
the soldiers
have abandoned
the Queen.
It's early morning
The air has
yet to be
choked out
by the
diesel fuel
and needless
emissions that will
soon began to
smother the
city
.
The faint smell
of fresh fish
makes its way
up the city
blocks from
the waterfront
below.
Old Italian and
Slavic women
stand outside
in their
long day time
night gowns
smoking cigarettes
while watering
the concrete.
I enter the
alley way ,
the smell of
***** diapers,
cheap
laundry detergent
and too
many children
surround an
apartment complex.
As I passed I came
upon the Black Princess
of these streets.
The wisest and
surest of them all
crosses my path.
Her tail held high
and strong,
striding care free,
she looks at me
with her
emerald eyes
and yawns.
She stops near a row
of trashcans that
are lined
up looking like
a modern
day monolith.
She laps at her
paw with slow,
long, lazy
licks as I
pass.
She again fixes me
with those marble green
eyes and lets me
know without
saying a word.
That the alley cat kills
for fun.
Ignores all Gods
by choice
and laughs
at our attempts
to tame it.
Jan 13, 2014
Jan 13, 2014 at 11:39 AM UTC
A doleful mermaid, heavily pregnant,
Sits on the waterfront rock;
Endlessly waiting the sea explorer,
Who promised her the moon.
Apr 20, 2012
Apr 20, 2012 at 9:22 AM UTC
The smoke stacks that line the waterfront be like giant joints puffing thoughts of her into air embalmed by hundreds of rainy days
That slow burn, against the icy bay and the barges that carry their loads through them
This corner of the world gets six hours of daylight, tops
Greys seared by neon, smoke and clouds and fog produced as one
continuous substance
There's a pleasant blurryness here
floating amid the buoys and the docked ferryboats,
In the way the monorails glide above toward a 1960s dream of the space age through an Amazonian jungle of glass and cranes
in harmony with the clouds sailing overhead
Here is where you go to let off steam deferred, where you ride trains through a kind of dark that arrives early, stays up late
as shadows wander across the gum covered walls of Post Alley
like ghosts made of espresso mist
freed from lit joints protruding from the skyline
to a high beneath starless heaven
Resting into the glow of that harbor
against thoughts of her that cloud the view of the sea.
Feb 19, 2019
Feb 19, 2019 at 4:33 PM UTC
On the waterfront, in a freight car-
Call it passion, call it desire.
Whatever it is that inspires-
That thing that wrings
One more day out.
What songs angels sing!
As they ferry souls along,
On flight, in wing
En route:
But the dead walk amongst the living, too,
And sometimes even angels get confused.
Poor, empty vassal
Aug 23, 2023
Aug 23, 2023 at 7:22 PM UTC
Looking at the bay,
fog blankets the lake,
ships zig-zag, leaving trails.
Nov 3, 2013
Nov 3, 2013 at 6:27 PM UTC
I feel the breeze of purple skied nights
sirens fading out down the street
taxi horns blaring impatiently
tungsten, incandescent, fluorescent
lights bouncing off brick walls
bums curled up on stone ledges
with a waterfront, riverside, view
towers stand erect—giant *****
of steel and mortar penetrating
the sweet pink innocence of the
clouds reflecting the light below
tourists meandering with companions
obtaining a glimpse of the night
life pushed aside by hurried natives
young college students starting their
***** trips at vibrant, overpriced, clubs
bitter grizzled men starting their
***** trips at dull, weathered, local bars
both shaking off the buzz moving
onto complete drunkenness
the taste of food and sewage
mixed into the humid air
live music playing in Millennium Park
while children play and laugh in the
artistic structures unknowing of the
value and beauty attributed
looking for amusement
the city’s reflection vainly warped
by the curved polished metal surface
of the Bean, crowds mesmerized by
simple tricks of light reflecting the
twisted narcissism of those caught
up in the city’s hedonism
warm breezes roll into
the shore and marina
from the sea-like lake
well-to-do travelers
recording through the curved
lenses of expensive digital cameras
their trifling, yet
extravagant adventures
Feb 28, 2013
Feb 28, 2013 at 12:40 PM UTC
I sit down by the waterfront, it's evening
the tide washes over my feet
it mimics you in every move it makes
it rushes to me then suddenly retreats -
If there's one thing I know about the ocean,
the same I will hope for your heart,
the sea always finds its way back to shore,
can we find our way back to the start?
Dec 15, 2015
Dec 15, 2015 at 12:09 AM UTC
Sometimes I can feel it yes I can
I'm wrapped around your little finger yes I am
The way you do my head it just ain't no good
The way you do my head not like a good girl should
She'll slink up behind you bro
She hid in the garden don't you know
Everybody said she was before her time
She'll sneak up behind you and commit the perfect crime
But it's alright yes it's okay
I'll get some of what I need just for today
The coffee's going down and I'm waking up
She has a whole lot of baggage enough to fill a truck
Down by the waterfront she'll take the plunge
She made it through the nineties she lived through grunge
She'll sneak up behind you bro
She hid in the garden don't you know
Everyone was saying that she's before her time
She'll sneak up behind you and commit the perfect crime
Jun 18, 2015
Jun 18, 2015 at 1:42 PM UTC
I stood there in darkness,
smoke rising from another lit cigarette
bellowing out from tarnished lungs
stain with tar, from this habit
but it could not lower my tension
as the moments descended down
til white lights enveloped me
in a deserted parking lot upon the waterfront
memories flooded back, only months ago
I thought were locked away within
scrambling thoughts and words to say
but all I can hear is my heart beating
within my chest, pounding upon the walls
to escape, to be free from another round of torment
but like ice cream in the sun, I melted
the moment those emerald eyes met mine
lost within them, the world disappeared
just me and her once again
"I am truly sorry" she says
like a ring side bell ringing a knockout
I felt my knees go weak, the ground beneath me quaked
off put and disoriented, reeling from a 1-2 blow to the head
as tears streamed down her face, craving canyons into my mona lisa
speechless she left me.
Nov 8, 2013
Nov 8, 2013 at 7:02 AM UTC
The jagged rocks wait on the pier side
As the mast of my ship looms over
Casting dismal shadows on the
Waterfront. The siren calls me
To shipwreck.
May 25, 2013
May 25, 2013 at 12:53 PM UTC
witches adorn the front covers
of ecofeminist zines
in an anarchist bookstore
nestled on the Left Bank
of Seattle's waterfront
rare rays of sunlight
filter through sheer curtains
photons glimmering
through fading droplets
clinging to cracked panes
refracting multicolor
i sit in the window-seat
listening to a homeless
balladeer's somber renditions
of Jonny Cash and Woodie Guthrie
serenading the locals bustling
down Pike Street Market
while the Olympic Mountains
keep their vigil
across a lonely bay
Emma Goldman whispers
for Alexander Berkman
and i balance on mismatched cushions
considering Proudhon's insistent
inquiries while Bakunin smirks
nursing secret heresies of insurrection
colorful posters are paper-machéd
across the walls with slogans of struggle
scrawled in sisterhood and solidarity
stickers plaster the narrow halls
encouraging visitors to Smash Capitalism!
or *Read A ******* Book*
as jam-packed patrons chance
sly peaks at the black flag
suspended in the back room
a faint breeze flutters intermittently
drifting across the open threshold
lifting spirits as if sifting
through grains of sand
not unlike a child
digging for answers
armed with one
monosyllabic question
why?
the banner
cheerfully pirouettes
for a revolution
without dancing
is not one worth having
Mar 29, 2016
Mar 29, 2016 at 8:19 AM UTC
We both got blisters on that night
Same toe, but different sides
In retrospect the shield powered down
(and how could I?)
Eagerness worn around golden crowns
(and then)
Then I thought I saw your chest light
behind your full chin height PBR
More brightly than Naito streetlights
could illuminate waterfront park
where we sat
Exciting, isn't it?
Exciting, like nothing else, to be wrong
Nov 28, 2013
Nov 28, 2013 at 8:36 PM UTC
“The Accidental Caretaker”
The accidental caretaker
has found his way back home
He's traveled far and traveled wide
to find his birds have flown
The western wind will tell the tale
of journeys he has known
and all along the rugged road
his destination known
The accidental caretaker
will leave here once again
He's always heard the siren's song
somewhere 'round the bend
down along the waterfront
he'll find his journey's end
the moonshadow will lead him on
to find his long lost friend
The accidental caretaker
has put away his shoes
his time is done for spotlights filled
with other people's blues
He's found a place to hang his hat
and listen for the news
of how and why and where and when
he'll pay his final dues
The accidental caretaker
has found his way back home
He's traveled far and traveled wide
to find the words he'd known
The waves will crash, the sun will set
on journeys he has known
and all along the rugged road
his destination known
his destination known
Feb 9, 2019
Feb 9, 2019 at 5:14 PM UTC
Sounds of crashing waves
against the pearl
white sand.
Memories of you and I
under the blue lit moon.
Water running across
our sun drenched bodies.
Our bodies entangled
amongst you and I.
Waves run at our feet
as we walk hand and hand
with the world
gleaming in the moonlight.
We stop and starred
eyes locked upon each other
saying those three words.
Speaking only with our eyes.
Sun rises on our final day.
The pearl sand was gleaming.
We walked the sand, felt
the rushing sea.
Sid goodbye to the perfect dream.
Jan 27, 2011
Jan 27, 2011 at 7:29 PM UTC
Dear Miss Harris.
this letter is to inform you that your position in the constaltions
Is fixed and never to fade.
My dearest Eleanor.
It would be misleading if I told you that for me, it was love
at first sight but you have grown on me with
The passage of time.
Over the years I have come to understand what the fuss was alll about.
As me myself and I sat alone in my solitude.
I have grown to love what a little moonlight can do as I cried for you.
Don't explain. Now I know that you've changed
Like autumn in new york and yesterdays witout your love have made me miss you even more now as I cover the waterfront in search of my love.
You my love are. travelin light crowned with a white carnation forever
strolling through my memories.
Maybe we will meet again on some other
Spring.some fine and mellow sunlit morning.
Till then dear,good morning heartache is the
Song that I sing as I sit in my solitude.
Hush now my heart. Don't explian. What is there to gain.
All my thoughts are of you for I am completly yours.
You are my joy and pain so don't explain.
Right or wrong don't matter,when you are with me sweet.
The pointed pain
Sad refrain. Good morning heartache.
Stop haunting me love.can't. Shake you no how
The welcome sting that your love will bring
Your arm so bruised and stained.
Repulsed me at first. The wounded bird
Does sing a lovely song.
It took me so long to
Feel your pain lady.
But you are now and ......... forever in my vein
And will remain.
Jun 15, 2013
Jun 15, 2013 at 10:41 AM UTC