Sand
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A Fata Morgana mirage loomed hazily, yet intensely off in the distance
On a scale of untold magnitude with respect to packing heat
So she felt it best to take the path of least resistance
When I die
Grind my bones and ash
To a fine powder
Then dye the powder any colors that will make you smile again
And make me art
Make me a sculpture
A mosaic
A color-filled bottle
He was a grain of sand and you were the ocean.
You are so much more than he could ever hope to be,
and when your tide comes in he will be a distant memory.
I wish to go to the valley of white stones
overturn a few with the tip of my shoe
browse the sandy shores bordered by sandy sea
Endless light bent over expansive quiet
This land of sand and stone, of silent reverie
I was privileged to have sedentary on the seashore in seraphic poetic submersion,The ringing sounds from the distant horizon made me entirely lost in my speculation,
Baking, broiling, blindingly bright, blistering sun,The kabob that is my body searing, skeweredOver scorching, sweltering, sizzling sand.Deceptively blue skies devoid of any deliverance,
Goodbye and thank you to the Ocean
Thank you for the memories
The nights of walking along the beach
The waves as they crashed at our feet
Thanks for the breeze blowing wind through our hair
Long rigid legs like chopsticks
Riding the seas got seasick
Snapping your snout like click click
You are a sandpiper, not a sandchick
Reality why oh why do you bother me
I was just fine without you while I lay on the sand
My life was good, scratch that grand
It was just the sun, the sand, the waves and me
The sand flows on the side of the glass
Quietly and gently on the stand
No one knows what it indicates
Other than the fact that it represents responsibility
time is like sand
it slips right through your fingers.
you can hold on
and squeeze as tight as you can
but in the end
it slips right through your fingers
time is like sand
it slips right through your fingers.
you can hold on
and squeeze as tight as you can
but in the end
it slips right through your fingers
Who knew the waves could be so cruel?
I want to understand
Why are the rocks forced to become
layers of fragile sand?
They crash, they charge, the World was Ours,
Water scatters like it fears
Dearest Wading Girl,
I peer at you through my canvas window
Watching as you dip your toes into the waters off the sharp Irish coast.
You wade through the yearnings of your kin
Reaching sun-dried dreams and
A picture is worth a thousand words
But what’s worth even more
Is what a camera can’t capture
Have you made any sand castles lately-
with that absurd, red dust that fills up your shoes?
I have stains on my socks from it still,
and pictures of you in my room in an album.
Death is slow
Like a sick flower with bleak petals that no longer grow
One by one, the petals begin to fall
Unable to avoid the final death call
I'm living in a castle made of sand.
It looks to be made of some hearty stone,
But I'm good at finding truth.
Sometimes I pluck it out of ears, like a magician's coin.
Truth is a bit more expensive.
We met under the white gazebo fair,
The wind blowing north up the sunlit shore
Your eyes, blue ocean and the bright sand, your hair
Before me was all I had ever yearned for
The water and its depth would scare me as a child
I knew the waves could whip me and make me wild
I used to think the ocean was hollow like a shell
And that the monsters in it were secrets I should never tell
From sandblast windows out I spy
a flock of gulls in flight
and I yearn to coast the ocean,
on a charter, strong and light.
Sail o'er the deepest trenches
With a map of stars at night.
The sands fall wastefully,
Across the charcoal floor,
How? I ask, with a harrowed sigh,
Might I fill the glass with more?
amorphous grains of quartz piled high,
tumbling, rolling
together further degrading,
microscopic rainbows,
tiny magic gems.
halite sprinkled in,
He's got the charm of a devil,
smile to prove it.
She's got a mind full of fate,
heart to win it.
I've got a life full of time and no one to spend it on.
I am from croquettas de jamon,
From guava and cheese.
I am from sandy beaches heated by the bright, burning sun
(Beating, glistening, warming my skin, tasting like freedom)
I'm not afraid of my shadow,
Or the satin woven black
Of the night sky,
Words it lack.
I'm a heavy breather,
Fantasiser, I believe
In the Northern light.
But strap my arms
Behind my back
Oct 16
The air is cool
A steady stream of water pushing against the shore
Taking bits of it with it as it recedes back to its home over and over and over again.
You are my oasis.
The sky is blue, blue waters, bright sand,
you are the water that turns my desert into a beach,
you, shade of the leaves that rewrites trials into isles of paradise,
I escape this hectic world
Full of hate and suffering
To find peace and happiness
This is my escape
I come here near noon
It's likeSandInside your handsEventually it will slip out
Know nowI'm with you somehowNo matter where you go
It's like sandIn the beachUncountableA number out of reach
your heart is the altar at which i worship.
your kiss is holy wine.
the ocean is our church and the waves are our prayers.
We won the battle.
We fought the fight.
We rode in saddles
Til' the end of the night.
The blood was spilled.
Boys became men.
Innocent tears filled.
Their dads, they wouldn't see again.
The bare sand bears only the smell of salt
Upon its desolate skin
Waiting for that high of
Lotionous water
To breathe life to this
The king within his castle looked out upon the sky, The dead-still air seemed restless, the sunlight seemed to die. The clouds came marching onward, an army dread and chill; Within his purple chambers, the king kept watching still. A rippling
Tiny tots laugh and splash as the waves break on sunscreened stomachs.
Reckless teenagers try new tricks on their freshly waxed skim boards.
Old men in Speedo's walk up and down the shoreline.
This, is my Florida.
Sandy beaches
Peaceful, content
Tickling
your feet as you walk along
Waves crash
building up power
Crushing seashells till they are no more than
Sand
You stoop to retrieve one
why can something so small make craters in our soul?
will We ever find it?
maybe it was sold
with the baggage of Hate
carried away by Mistake.
The crash of the waves
Upon the shore
The smell of the salt
Oft described in folklore
The feel of the sand
Warm and soft underfoot
The cry of the seagulls
They saw my fresh fruit
The place with the sand and sea is abandoned,
Empty.
Deserted.
Bumpy tracks of vehicles are freshly anew,
But no other traces of a once crowded beach left behind.
Among the ebb and flow of the Earth
Among the flourishing promise of human life
Among whatever secrets this land may hold beneath my feet
True peace lies in the sand
White
Shifty
The Sand
Allows my toes
And foot as a whole
To pass and
Sink some
Inches
Down
Setting
Like the
Tangerine sun
As it slips away
Past the edge
