PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Sea salt made a fine layer of dust on your skin

when the cresting waves alternatingly

pushedand pulled your body

with the readiness of a lover. I stood

on the shore, toes gently lapped

by the aftermath to

the small violences you refused to shy away from

and daydreamed about your voice against my skin.

I called out to you, then,

and culled the seashells from my fist to select

the one best suited for your hand.

saiom shriver

"The coffee shop,

where in the middle of the block,

it had started;

where they met.

Their headquarters,

where they rested

over iced drinks

after a long skate.

Old friends,

young men,

two, not the same blood

or kin

shake hands 

and embrace the others grin,

a tight squeeze

given to each. 

Brothers,

such a tight bond

with so little time,

sealed the deal

of interlocking

storylines,

adventures and shared 

scrapes.

Escaping near death,

falling off boards onto wrists,

downhill descent

screaming past parked cars,

wherein that itself

is a rare occurance

when once was daily.

Temperature varied,

as did the places they'd

hunker down,

sweating,

stopping to have a drink.

Seperated by little,

attached at the hip,

it seemed. Until

life happened,

having sent the older 

away for summmer,

the younger away for the rest,

testing himself and his brain.

Drumming away,

marching on by,

the two had lives 

blur on by, 

spiraling in different directions,

story arcs and sidequests,

conquests coloring the night,

but by and by, 

when guest apperances

would transpire,

everything dropped

to meet one another,

the bond was made stronger

with the short time

it had to cure.

Not to say

neither were lost,

but both stepped in confidence.

Always looking ahead,

but once they were together,

unspoken,

to each love was gave.

Brotherly love,

concrete waves."

সাগরে যে উঠে কত ঢেউ!

জানে না তো কেউ,

ঢেউ উঠে, ঢেউ ভাঙ্গে,

কি অদ্ভুত ঢঙে!

ঢেউ আছে বলেই সাগর সুন্দর এতো,

ঢেউ না থাকলে কি সাগরকে সুন্দর দেখাতো?

জলহীন মরুভূমির মতই তখন হত,

শ্মশানের মত নিস্তব্ধ, শান্ত!

ও সাগর! তুমি এতো সুন্দর কেন?

গ্রীক পুরাণের কোনও অমর, অনিন্দ্য দেবী যেন!

I light a fire just to watch it burn
Sit across the street with empty hands
Behind a tree unnoticed, so it's not my turn 
I have infinite thoughts, but empty plans

Ending up only to be pretty hollow
Ideas only stay for portion of a second
Echoing through the empty walls. and then comes nothing
Diffusing into the air, to become a forgotten particle
and nothing comes to follow

To set the ominous breeze,
Over the most vibrant sea, that suddenly lost color
and the skies are now gone and dull
They paint the picture to not excite, but simply appease

To be trapped inside this now and empty void
With nothing but everything destroyed
To say that we are fine, and simply avoid
Now we sail, swift onto the large sea of contradictions
Too lost within, that we forget our own convictions
Letting loose the anchor of anxiety, and thus become the restrictions

But this is not the end,
A man aboard throws over his only friend
And a storm rolls in, and then our destination is not known
As realization becomes the new sun, and hearts are turned to stone
A daughter now deserted by her parents is overwhelmed in strife
She whimpers, but can not help wonder what makes up this sickly life
A world where people phase in, and phase out
and thoughts become ideas, and ideas become a shout
and how long does a day go on to stay out and last,
Before awesome expectations become invisible, straight into the past?

Will the ship find it's way to land, or sink in despair?
Great ideas no match for the roaring waves of Negativity and ignorance?
Those striving so long for a real sun, to only be in vain, deprived?
And those hopelessly waiting for relief, to be cruelly concealed, unaware?

The masterpiece of a book now weathered to nothing but scribbles
A great idea now hidden and destroyed by life's cruel riddles
Will the hands be strong at ease to create another inspiration?

Or will it fail to swim over the simplest waves and forget it's own foundation?

The fears that threaten,

To face one's life,

On terms not one's own,

Can bring euphoria, strife,

Or a wild combination,

Like a key to a lock,

It can either move mountain,

Or leave one in utter shock.

Your stars...how they twinkle...

Your dimples...how merry...

Oh "Tides of the Heavens",

Don't leave life in such a hurry,

For there's so many things,

That you won't and can never know,

But believe me my love,

You will be back, should you choose to go.

For life is a circle,

No beginning, no end,

And living in truth,

Your whole being shall mend,

Temporary chaos,

Can seem very wrought,

On a soul who can't seem to undo

What they've thought---

 !!!!!!

Was the truth.

 !!!!!!

With that, 

Change comes tumbling down,

Then, in the blink of an eye,

Your smiles turn upside down.

 *****

We all live with threats daily,

This not new to us,

Soon you just reach a point,

Where it's not worth the fuss

*****

To be angry or vengeful,

Or feed into some dare,

Where your life is, is here,

Not your thoughts over there.

....

When does morning start?

When a creature awakes,

Or when the sun rises?

Yea, the morning is

When a creature awakes

To find it starting anew

In the world dominated

By mortal souls.

The human wakes up

First by opening its eyes,

Then stretching its muscles

And sitting up in a position

To retreat from the bed

That held it prisoner 

During the long, dark night.

Out of bed it goes

Attending its normal

Robotic morning routine

Whilst thinking of the future,

Of what the day holds,

And how the day will go.

Either gleefully or woefully

Does the human think of this

For not all mornings 

Are filled with happiness and glee.

Fearful not is the human

Who takes things as they go

Wave by wave.

Wave by wave harassing it,

Wave by wave attacking it,

Wave by wave saddening it,

Wave by wave entertaining it,

Wave by wave knocking it down.

Each wave the human does take

Accepting each as a challenge,

As an opponent, an obstacle,

And one that must be rid of.

Defeat is not in its dictionary,

For there is no defeat

If one can rise again,

And face the same challenge

To only be victorious.

The human does not give up,

It does not ponder on the past,

But it rises from its ashes - 

Waking up to start anew

In a world dominated

By mortal souls.