ocean

Cry In My Sleep

 

 I Lost My Ability To Cry
I'm Hurting So Much
I Feel Hurt
I Feel Pain
I Want To Cry
But Theres Not Tears
Theres No Emotions
Hold Me Please


Because I Can't Feel My Arms
I Can't Feel My Legs Anymore
I Feel Like Crying
But I'm Dying In My Sleep
Waking Up With Dried Up Eyes
I Don't Remember Crying
I Don't Remember Sleeping
Chill Runs Through On My Skin


Crying Out In Pain
I Wish I Could Cry
For My Body Can't Take It Anymore
Is This What It Feels Like
Why Must I Feel So Cold
Why Must I Feel So Emotionless
Pieces Of My Heart
Tears In Pieces


I Wish Again
I Could Cry
Just Once More
If I Could Hold You
If I Could Hug You
And Tell You One More Thing
I Just Want To Cry
I Want To Cry On Your Shoulder

 

 

Maiden In Waiting

Folder: 
Simple Thoughts

"She had been waiting, 

for her knight. 

Her proper gentleman, 

the one who at night

 

would hold her tight,

the only way

that seemed right

to sleep.

 

So deep,

was her love

for someone she hadn't met yet, 

it kept her away

 

from the others.

No prince

could ever save this

damsel in distress. 

 

She was busy, anyway.

But on one

humid, busy day,

one said hello.

 

And in a blur of a year,

she realized 

she had said 'yes', 

with stone like Ocean

 

adorned on left hand.

She was happy.

She was going to unite 

with one whom

 

she had searched 

her entire life for.

One who loves her

for who she is,

 

and every thing

that implies.

He is no knight, 

no master-commander,

 

just a man

who has a way with words; 

or so he likes to think.

All she wants,

 

is to ink into passing

the change of last name.

A light love story, 

that began two year ago,

 

one busy day.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

When I met me wife!

Men at Sea

Ecstasy of the heart,

Is this a new start?

 

Filled with happiness and glee,

Five ships on an open sea,

 

Cups of rum

And mothers lost sons

 

New worlds to explore

Past the golden shores

 

No tyrants or hypocrites,

On the sparkling sea

 

Sail to the ends, Just to be

Men at sea

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Simple, but one of my favorites. 

View beenjammin7's Full Portfolio

An Ode to Sailors

Leave behind thoughts of those missed and make way for future ports of call. Tendering while being satisfied with one's commission, breath, and brio. Many a shipmate is sufficiently contented with this. The lady goes forth with unfurled sail and mirrored masts atop deep water through a wide expanse. Far from peaceful nights at when the owls had grown still. Bluejackets rise before dawn, readying for their turn, standing by for orders for endeavors of the new day. Before long, the sun shall show bright through the casements of the skipper's cabin while those at their turn, top side, are at their office. The coming nautical day bids elation to the shipmates' hearts with desires of a glorious new day at sea while the seamen are vigilant. They are filled with dreams spurned on by the rolling waves. Skuddlebut, now begins to murmur, it is a reticent prate, wise with know-how. Their souls are imbued with the quiet peacefulness of the love of the sea.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Skuddlebut is gosspi in eaman's terms.

View davebucko's Full Portfolio

Corpse Pose

Folder: 
Hand Written

"Feel it, 

the sensation of breathing, 

with a new friend. 

Not

 

the addition, 

but the release of a union

of muscle and sinew, 

effort

 

cast to the side. 

The breath

enjoyed

with the support 

 

of the floor. 

The ground, 

the dirt below, 

thinking now

 

of feeling the green grass

in between your toes, 

the Earth, 

our Earth. 

 

Nay, she is not ours, 

we are instead Hers. 

Your breath... 

given strength by Mother Earth. 

 

Do you feel it? 

The ebb of the Earth, 

the beat, 

the ancient, encompassing embrace. 

 

Do you feel the flow

of the Ocean,

the breath of Mother Earth

made manifest?

 

Do you feel the presece

of the energy,

in this room, 

right now?

 

The energy that is still, 

the energy that links us, 

neighbor to neighbor, 

the energy of the mightiest wave

 

crashing onto the shore,

the wrath of the surf

felt as fury by the surfer

that Hell hath no. 

 

The energy of the exhausted canine

resting finally on couch

with the child who so tenderly

ran it tired. 

 

The energy when Autumn comes

when you're not quite done

kissing Summer

goodbye.

 

Do you feel the breath? 

Do you feel your mind 

spiraling all over this

whirl of whimisical words?

 

Do you feel the heart? 

Your heart? 

My heart? 

The flow of energy 

 

of the one to your left

or right? 

Us all, limited not

to labels

 

or categories, 

not by old, young, 

American, skin tone, 

the foolish boy or the sweet lady.

 

Try Human, 

Homo Sapien, 

try Earthling, 

giggling practitioner about spirit fingers. 

 

But, 

you know what? 

I do not

need to instruct, 

 

because I feel it. 

I feel you. 

I feel joy,

stress, searing pain, 

 

us joining as a whole

with our Om. 

So beautiful, 

you people. 

 

This is it. 

This is you, this is me. 

This is Mother Earth. 

I feel it.

 

And maybe you do too."

Author's Notes/Comments: 

The piece I wrote for Lululemon's UNITEd State campaign, during a yoga session I sat and observed.

To the Sea (day 47)

Until the water calls me

I stay human, with a human memory

I can recall everything about

standing there at high tide, waiting

Watch me as I sing to the sea

 

Even when I’m here

my shadow is outside the window

Something about this discontent

the rocks and dust break under my feet so I’m

dreaming of somewhere else

Watch me as I sing to the sea

 

In the water they can’t break my shell

I can defy gravity

maybe I can conquer the world

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Written 9/16/16

Ouside the window

View tallsquirrelgirl's Full Portfolio
tags:

Absolute Heaven

Folder: 
Simple Thoughts

"Again, 

again, it's been so long, 

yet the feeling still runs 

deep inside. 

 

As though not a second 

separated this and the last, 

my heart racing 

my fingers fluttering. 

 

To spin a tale, 

weave a rhyme, 

picking up a rhythm 

lost to time. 

 

The reason? 

Inconsequential, 

or unimportant, 

rather. 

 

It's been so long, 

it seems, 

but currently at ease 

letting flow out 

 

what some call the soul, 

others call just words, 

or poetry. 

The goal 

 

in the end is to spark a flame, 

light up a mind 

with imagery. 

Personified, 

 

the thousand miles 

traveled, 

just to have another light 

come into my life. 

 

Again, 

the slow boil of the machine 

turning over to toil 

and burn and smoke 

 

and chug along the engine 

of mine, 

the mind 

that writes. 

 

Taking corners too fast, 

imagery still spinning 

left and right, 

picking up speed 

 

and becoming a runaway, 

such mass and inertia 

turning energy 

into nothing less than unstoppable. 

 

To write again, 

to sing, or dance, 

to do what you have done 

because it is who you are, 

 

it's every fiber of your body, 

every sliver of your soul... 

is intoxicating, 

gratifying. 

 

It's heaven, 

absolute heaven. 

 

When you're below the beloved Ocean 

of Life, 

it's waves and currents 

holding you underneath. 

 

That moment you see the surface, 

the ballet above 

of the light dancing 

and beckoning you up for air. 

 

That moment you swim up, 

the sun becoming brighter as you draw closer, 

the cold water becoming clear,

you're so near, 

 

the warmth of the top 

felt through, 

but you're not quite there yet. 

Swim! 

 

Swim harder, 

reach for the surface, 

because that exact moment 

you burst through, 

 

inhaling that open, 

sweet, succulent air 

of inspiration... 

filling lungs, body, 

 

mind and soul... 

it is 

absolute heaven; 

to be inspired again. Gorgeous."

Author's Notes/Comments: 

It is great to write again. To be taken serious again.

The Beauty in Love & Art

I doubted I would find real, mutual love for the longest time.

That is only because I've looked in the wrong places and have fallen hard every time I thought

I found a missing part of me.

 

The problem with me is I don't fit in when I'm in any other group.

All around me in my daily life, I end up doing things I didn't want to do.

My life is getting stuck between a rock and a hard place when I choose

To be something I feel is right for me.

 

You're not hard to please for you are a fellow artist who shares my passion and attraction.

We color each other's worlds and we help each other out when we need it the most.

I give you my passion and you give it back in return.

We are not dependent on one another because we can take care of ourselves.

 

The sea leads to many places and although I have not landed where I needed to go,

You found me and led me in the right direction.

With you and me together, "lost" has no meaning.

We are simply taking our time to get to where we need to be.

 

The forsaken world and everything that was wrong with it will be far behind

Once I leave what destroyed me before and look for who I am.

The chains that keep me from breathing no longer exist

When I am somewhere else in the consciousness hidden within.

 

The art I color is vital to me as taking a breath.

Likewise, the more we are next to each other,

The more I see how selfless and warmhearted you are.

 

The way you treat me thaws my own heart until there is a flame that surrounds it.

A flame that only burns when you and I continue to bond.

Only you can see and feel how special it is to me that you make me feel that way.

I dream of us meeting face to face so we can make our artistic worlds come to life.

 

You teach me many things that I hold onto in my life.

Being with you helps me resist temptation that hinders my goals.

Speaking my tongue to you helps me become wiser in knowing the right things to say.

Presenting my own art to you helps me gain the courage to keep blossoming until my colors bloom like summer flowers.

More importantly, revealing my hopes and dreams to you gave me the escape from misery I longed to achieve.

 

In return for your kindness, I give you my passion and complete our missing soul.

To truly build up trust, all we have to do for each other is stay and that's what I will do for you.

A Poet Afloat

Folder: 
Simple Thoughts

"Find out

exactly what it is about,

what words flirt around;

being inspired. 

 

Seeing, 

hearing 

a piece of art,

hardrock rhymes

 

that tell what has transpired,

what had rambled on by.

Hard times,

or that feel-good story

 

that is too cliche for news

nowadays,

no love to be found.

Between then and now,

 

after everything that has happened,

still trying to climb a side of a mountain.

Reach up above and find purchase,

pull yourself onto the ledge,

 

overcome that edge.

Inspirational,

overcoming what supposed story

has made times get harder.

 

Determination

denotes what is to be,

or what can be deemed

a possibility. 

 

So is it inspirational,

it being anything, 

just because it had been done

by one who downplays the feat?

 

Nay,

it feels good instead,

the rushing feeling

of creating, being

 

involved in something more than me,

kittens and puppies,

dogs too,

more than you,

 

inspired to make a difference

because I had made made one 

to your day, 

or so you say.

 

As long as what is being inspired

doesn't bring the end

of art,

of love and life,

 

I'll do it every day,

I'll inspire,

unintentionally,

that's the point.

 

I think.

 

Nothing in this world compares,

being lost at sea;

tidal waves won't let me be.

 

So poetry,

a release to me,

inpires others?

I can live with that,

 

be it the truth."

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Having written poetry for a little more than a year now I see a lot of comments about how much people can relate to my work, mostly due to how some can read it and feel a sense of vulnerability, or truth. I never try to write a piece to just one person but time and again more people feel that some of my work is almost made out to just them. 

 

I'm okay with that, since I get that comment more than once. Ego on high, I suppose.