Like a fast dream
in a stormy night,
we found a wee beach
just enclosed between houses.
I got hit by its beauty,
those warm shelters
are not afraid to crumble,
carried away by the waves.
The time didn't hurt them though.
Instead, limpets are living there,
holding strong against the mossy walls.
The water is vivid
taking me back to summer memories,
but now it's tinted with melancholy,
giving deep aquamarine hints.
Swollen tears of the sea,
Up, the train
down, the sea
loving the salty sound
the salty tears
on your face
Walking down at the beach
with our noses up.
The bridge is still looking
the seagull floating
through the damp clouds
It's still looking
from the past
to the future
Crossed like wrong words
on an old paper
that you wrote as love letters.
Shhh...
You are in the potting shed,
where the eldest are chilling
and the children seem so far.
A quiet place to enjoy,
in front of a cup of tea,
or a strawberry tart.
It's the shelter in which
I escape from the noise,
organising tables, looking at the view.
Every touch is a memory of someone who enjoyed the moment.
I can see the sea right after the green hills,
a blend of peace and fresh air.
What a nice ending of the day
looking at the august sun disappearing
between the trees.
Plastic effigies roam the sea,
no starboard or otherwise,
sandwhich bags pass as permits,
simple obligations from where they drearily drink tea.
Day by day, shaped like a gyre,
montonous labyrinthine symposiums,
word by word, waits for knotted guts to spill forth,
oh wait, pull over, another flat tire.
They say many things, those circling sheep,
concepts blend into the next,
the world seems clouded and hazy,
when do we truly drift off to sleep.
Though in not so many words one could say encouragingly,
from dreams comes responsibility.
For now.
I say, I can't trust the words I am telling myself.
Once there was a plant, named in a name a plant wouldn't be named in.
Her scientific name.
That plant used to hate the sun, hate the light, hate water, and hate the land.
Nothing wad loved. or adored from this plant.
It was a life with a lot of tears, and fears.
That plant used to be afraid that it's fardner would know it dosen't love or appreciate the sun, and all.
This plant made a change in her self.
And didn't sleep for a while.
A night came , a sun went . And a flower fell.
Autumn had came.
This plant had fell.
Hard.
Flew away to aplace where she was to go to afraid.
The sea.
I walk down a lone road.
It's cold and dark.
The crisp night air,
Pulling me further from reality.
You call me, concerned,
And like a ship drawn to its lighthouse,
I turn to face you.
But theres another.
More enticing.
Further away for the real world.
It calls out for me.
And like a sailor bieng lured by a siren,
I turn to face it.
It has no eyes.
It has no hair.
It has no face.
Do you want to go on an adventure?
We could do anything we want,
We could go to the Caribbean to hunt for treasure,
To find riches we can flaunt,
To nobles, kings and queens,
We could sail the seven seas,
We could live any life we dream,
We could climb the highest trees,
We could eat the juiciest mangoes,
We could run through Berlin's streets,
We could pet pink flamingos,
We could live in a castle made of receipts,
We would catch a million crabs,
We could slay a thousand dragons,
We could travel to faraway lands,
We could have adventures all day long.
Maybe the waves must glitter for a moment
Till the silence dies of chaotic thoughts
And if then our backs only ever scorch
The spirit of our sceptre lays dormant
Have you felt the lively rush of the waves
Thinking, if only life felt so empty
And then you choose the human remedy
Instead; not for Later's colourless caves?
Later is perhaps our precious dreamer
It is our sole pallbearer in this manner -
Glitter for the holy walls, for a moment.
Maybe the crashing waves must do for now
And leave us until we rise to the ground
That we may accept misfortune's remnant.
Sonnet No. 8
A storm is gathering
On the ocean today.
The sea is churning,
Rumbling, foaming.
Sailors are panicked.
They must prepare
Because a storm is gathering
And there could be a disaster.
A storm is gathering
On the road today.
Drivers fear the worst
As they seek shelter.
But they don't know the area.
They don't know what's nearby.
And so they frantically
Scour the city
There once was a girl who lived on the rocks
Her hair fell down in thick blonde locks.
Her mind was deep and uncharted like the sea.
No stranger a maiden on land can there be.
There once was a maiden who walked the beach
As if the ocean was where her secrets did sleep
She walked all night yet touched no water
This was odd behavior for the Sea’s daughter.
There was a girl, who spent her days,
Singing to keep the past at bay.
She hummed and strummed all about,
Letting all the emotions out.
There once was a maiden, who walked into the sea,
Calm and resolute as can be.
She smiled when the sea took her in
As if asking where have you been?
Searching for the right path in life.
But I'm over everything and more.
It all looks like it should,
Me looking happy and things looking right.
But I'm dying inside I need something else.
My drug isn't here and I need another addiction to satisfy my needs.
What happens when you die more and more inside over something that shouldn't be there?
Can you not just say I want it all to end?
To be done with everything and move on,
Just kill the source of your problems......Yourself?
Not any more
Will I stand here and let myself be hurt over and over again.
Be confused again and again about the little things.
Not any more
I will I take the lead
I want to let it all drag me along
We're all but wistful sighs in the grand monologue of a loquacious universe.
Making mistakes
Lost myself
in the depths of your soul,
Or rather, I drowned.
Inhibitions
They see the flash of pearls,
Not the seashells that
had to be broken open