The sea within
My world
static now.
I am dead to everything
except the sound of the sea
that is within me.
No more calm
but raging with a storm,
the angry waves lashing
against the high cliffs.
But the sea is deep,
down in my heart.
None can witness
the tumult from outside,
the impregnable stoical exterior
bearing no sign of the inner trepidation.
A voice calls out to me
above the howling sound of the sea.
Slowly I raise my head
and see myself, calm and intrepid.
Am I the weary sailor
waiting to be washed ashore
after my ship sinks?
My spirit will no longer languish
but ready to override
the storm than wait for it to subside.
For I love the song of the sea
that is in me,
the soft murmur
when it is calm and when the billows roar.
The heart recognizes in them the melodies
and whispers the both tones.
poem by Aimanu Begum
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In Memoriam A. H. H.: 11. Calm is the morn without a sound
Calm is the morn without a sound,
Calm as to suit a calmer grief,
And only thro' the faded leaf
The chestnut pattering to the ground:
Calm and deep peace on this high wold,
And on these dews that drench the furze.
And all the silvery gossamers
That twinkle into green and gold:
Calm and still light on yon great plain
That sweeps with all its autumn bowers,
And crowded farms and lessening towers,
To mingle with the bounding main:
Calm and deep peace in this wide air,
These leaves that redden to the fall;
And in my heart, if calm at all,
If any calm, a calm despair:
Calm on the seas, and silver sleep,
And waves that sway themselves in rest,
And dead calm in that noble breast
Which heaves but with the heaving deep.
poem by Alfred Lord Tennyson
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The Nature Of The Storm
Glare at the cloud
Guarded by fog and shroud
And see the storm will be here
Soon it will be quite near
Brace yourself my dear
And yet before
We have to be torn at the core
Torn to and fro, there will be a calm before a calm
A time where there shall be no qualm
And yet the calm is terrifying
The silence before war is maddening
It is not the nor consoling calm of peace
But a maddening roar of quiet
I fear the calm more than the storm because sometimes 'Not Knowing'
That's the worst
poem by David Knox
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I dread the calm
I dread the calm in the morning of a mourn without a sound
It is a calm that comes to foster a greater grief
It is a calm light of dusk before ever dew was falling from leaves
It is a calm sinking in calm pattering to the ground
I fear the calm and scudding winds in the high wold
And on the dews the drench the gorse
And all the silvery gossamer
Shaken into gilded gold
Is it calm and still in the dusky light over great plains
That sweeps late and swiftly in autumn bowers
Of secluded farms and solitary towers
To merge with the bounding and the saint
Is it calm on the vast sea under the spangled silver sleep
The waves that sway in colossus to lull themselves to rest
And the dead calm in the deepening breast
Which heaves with the heaving deep
Yet calm is the mute peace in the meadow’s air
The forest gloom with loom of leaves that redden to fall
And in my chest if calm can ever dwell at all
If any calm is there, it is the calm of despair
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I Am Calm In The Pain
I AM CALM IN THE PAIN
I am calm in the pain,
And calm in the rejection,
And calm through the insult,
And calm through the anger,
And calm calm calm,
Though I feel so deeply
How I have failed
I am calm
Very calm
So calm
Until suddenly
In the middle of the morning prayer
I begin to cry to God
Cry with a terrible crying
And then when the prayer done
Calm calm calm calm calm.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Magical Love
You sound like
The rush of an Angel's wings
Taking flight
When you speak
Or the twinkling of wind chimes
Off in the distant night air
Heard, but unseen
You are like
Morning dew
In the afternoon
Or random raindrops
In rare moments
On a soft and sunlit day
You feel like
The softest petal
On a newly bloomed rose
When you whisper
Against my ear
While my eyes are closed
You are the
Crash of the ocean
When its waves wash ashore
Or the still and the calm
Of a storm, just before
Your fingertips trail
Up my spine
Then down my thigh
Your lips never once
Leaving mine
Your touch feels
As light as a fallen feather
Drifting slowly
Toward the ground
All things seem magical
Your love is musical
What a beautiful sound
poem by Erika Wingo
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This House Is Not For Sale
Tell 'em that the house is not for sale
We're still livin' here, how come nobody can tell
They're takin' all the furniture, movin' our things
Come on little honey, put your head on my knee
Tell 'em that the house is not for sale
And calm down, calm down, calm down
Calm down, calm down, calm down
Do you remember when we even bought this thing?
I danced you across the wooden floor and you signed the lease
What happened in the car that night?
What happened in the car that night?
Tell 'em that the house is not for sale
And calm down, calm down, calm down
Calm down, calm down, calm down
Calm down
Tell 'em that the house is not for sale
We could grab a couple sheets, yeah, give 'em quite a scare
I remember lyin' on the bedroom floor
You were holding me, little honey, kissin' my soul
Tell 'em that the house is not for sale
And calm down, calm down, calm down
Calm down, calm down, calm down
Calm down
Calm down
song performed by by Ryan Adams
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Another Moment
this is another moment of being alone
in another place
where you will find time
to be yourself
on the beach
with two seats and a single roof
there will only be one
blue towel
only one seat shall be
salty
no boat or a raft
the sea is so calm
you hear a sorrowful sound
of breeze
the sea urchins are too many
ready to prick
any of your toes
but you are careful this time
not believing all my stories
my alibis
the sea is calm
you must think some more
another moment
may strike you
i have never loved you
even for once
the sea is calm
and i will not be around
to see the coming storm
this moment
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Come Hell Or High Water
Come hell or high water
I will cross the vast expanse of water
Throw anything at me I will dodge it out
Come here hell and I'll make you heaven
Come here high water I'll calm you down.
Let's see who'll beat whom and I'll call you out
Come hell or high water
Let's see what you can do
Let's see how I destroy you
You are no better than a storm
But I am no worse than the red storm on Jupiter too
Let's see how I wipe you out and Make a speck of you
Come hell or high water.
The second I feel the rocking of my ship
I'll take my ship out of you
Then see who's who and I'll defeat you
Come hell or high water
The second I see a ray of light
I'll know your dead
Then Let's see who wins the challenge
The sailor me or just a speck like you!
poem by Paaras Bhardwaj
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That Vision In The Sky
As seas thrash out storms
And the winds carry leaves
New composition forms
As our dream perceives
Amongst waters blue
Unicorns run free
Leaving traces of you
In thoughts sent to me
An overcast sky
Clouds shatter the display
A vast intent supply
As the slow shores sway
The rapids in my heart
Sing a ballad so unique
A masterpice of art
As light rays cast oblique
Upon the canvas of desire
Your painting appears
Allows my heart to retire
Reducing me to tears
In the cloud lies a vision
Of a fotune yet untold
Cast in raging indecision
For my world to behold
The whispers of the wind
That flicker through my hair
Speak how love is sinned
If my love ceases declare
This is the storm inside of me
Thrashing through my veins
I am that raging sea
Compelled by my restrains
Calm exterior, undisturbed
Unto the naked eye
Till this storm is curbed
I'll believe that vision in the sky...
poem by Sara Stowell
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How can you sleep like sleeping?
You can not ever sleep like sleeping
Only seeing in the deep and endless sky
Taking deep sigh and drinking poison
With your all arrogance and pride high
In your eyes I see the waves of the ocean
Making low and high tides with the sound
Of roaring and with a raw burning, the Pacific
Left calm less and to raise trouble ruffled
Writhing with unbearable pain heart and spleen
How can you sleep like sleeping?
When you close your eyes you see the bird
Can not fly with an arrow pierced the heart
On the ground helpless lie, when you open
Your eyes, see, pain has been washed away
By the little drops of the dew of the night.
The more unknown becomes the world,
The known face moves strange around.
From the wounds blood still dripping
How can you sleep like sleeping?
poem by Abdul Wahab
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The Wreck of the Thomas Dryden
As I stood upon the sandy beach
One morn near Pentland Ferry,
I saw a beautiful brigantine,
And all her crew seem'd merry.
When lo! the wind began to howl,
And the clouds began to frown,
And in the twinkling of an eye
The rain came pouring down.
Then the sea began to swell,
And seem'd like mountains high,
And the sailors on board that brigantine
To God for help did loudly cry.
Oh! it was an awful sight
To see them struggling with all their might,
And Imploring God their lives to save
From a merciless watery grave.
Their cargo consisted of window-glass,
Also coal and linseed-oil,
Which helped to calm the raging sea
That loud and angry did boil.
Because when the bottoms of the barrels
Were with the raging billows stove in,
The oil spread o'er the water,
And smoothed the stormy billows' din!
Then she began to duck in the trough of the sea,
Which was fearful to behold;
And her crossyards dipped in the big billows
As from side to side she rolled.
She was tossed about on the merciless sea,
And received some terrible shocks,
Until at last she ran against
A jagged reef of rocks.
'Twas then she was rent asunder,
And the water did rush in --
It was most dreadful to hear it,
It made such a terrific din.
Then the crew jumped into the small boats
While the Storm-fiend did roar,
And were very near being drowned
Before they got ashore.
Then the coal-dust blackened the water
Around her where she lay,
And the barrels of linseed-oil
They floated far away.
And when the crew did get ashore,
They were shaking with cold and fright,
And they went away to Huna inn,
And got lodgings for the night!
poem by William Topaz McGonagall
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Calm of the Sea
the whole day
the coconut leaves rustle
and punctuate
our tete a tete
allowing us to savour
the fineness of the tropics
the warm wind
titilates our senses
in way only humans
could know
the whole day
by the beach
the waves roar
leaping against the pier
a little sampan
bobs up and down
the sound of a
young couple on love bed
an enclosed
insect circling
a case looking for
the crevice of freedom
the sea crushes on and on
in the waves
i seek a calm
my worries trail its sound
emptied as the bubbles
burst into nothing
the sea of desires
that tugs at my heart
i submerge in the vast morass of water
left on the sand
pensive footsteps
lead me to my thoughts of Buddha
his walk to enlightenment
away from the ceaseless
waves of wants
that pound against
the human heart day after day
in these footsteps
i find zen
a calm in the frenzy of waves and wind
nirvana
where the sea
remains so serene
it reflects the peace
of all around
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Ashore, ashore with the tide’s flow
Ashore, ashore with the tide’s flow
As in a sack some thing washed in:
And lay amidst the shells
And pebbles of the shore
Amidst the lapping of the waters rude
And the sea-waves’ roar.
Ashore, ashore with the tide’s flow
The sea-waves washed her in
One eye was closed the other open
And on her golden hair
Were drops of red:
Wild lapped the sea-waves and the cloud
Frowned on the sea-shore
Amidst the lapping of the waters rude
And the sea-waves’ roar.
How many winters rude have skimmed
Their frozen fingers on the white breast
Of the pale moon-lit lake a-dreaming sound
How many a Spring of green
Has come and gone:
Since that ashore, ashore with the tide’s flow
The sea-waves washed her in
Her clothes that rich were tattered were
Unseemly with the smoke of cigars
And the drunk smell of alcohol
Her look was wild and sad and raw:
Wild lapped the sea-waves and the cloud
Frowned on the sea-shore
Amidst the lapping of the waters rude
And the sea-waves’ roar.
poem by Emmanuel George Cefai
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The Anchor
Firm trust of the bold sailor on the shores of sudden storm,
What strength is in its structure and the fitness of its form!
Old ocean’s bed-rock gripping, with the hurricane’s tug ’twill cope,
And therefore ’tis the emblem held of man’s eternal hope.
Through the billows ceaseless raging, by the bleak and stormy steep,
Like a thunderbolt down-rushing it is shot into the deep;
Down where some mute sea-monster its so hideous bulk uprears,
And mightiest silence drowned hath lain for many a thousand years.
In some famed bay of battle when ’tis plunged with sullen roar,
In the Nile, In Navarino, or by Danish Elsinore,
How deep there shall its slumbers be beneath the sounding waves,
Amid the bones of gallant tars in glory’s watery graves.
In the bright and landlocked harbour, the weary voyage o’er,
When only pleasant breezes breathe sweet welcome from the shore,
Its massive form down-dropping to its quiet bed below
Gives signal to the first glad boat that beachward pants to go.
In the calm thou firm-fixed surety, thou strong helper in the storm,
Even a child when first beholding all the fitness of thy form,
Might well divine the dangers wherewithal ’tis thine to cope,
And take thee as the emblem meet of man’s eternal hope
poem by Charles Harpur
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I love the word 'calm
I love the word ‘calm’
‘The sea lies calm tonight’
‘Ne’er saw I, never felt, a calm so deep!
‘And calm of mind, all passion spent’
I love the word ‘calm’
And the feeling of peace,
And the joy in quiet,
And the sense of all things well,
It gives.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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What A Beautiful Sound
beautiful sounds
that stir the heart
free awakening soul
lift flight sky spirit
sound of river running wide unified flowing
sound of creek running downhill leaping splashing
sound of stillness crisp haunting in still mountain morning
sound of wind timeless moving over through forest trees growing
sound of whispers retracting as first soft snow flutters falling
sound of soft rain tender kissing warm earth embraces water waiting
sound of rain heavy droplets embracing dancing love symphony greeting
sound of storm clouds fast running painting sky black spiraling
sound of thunder freedom singing vibrating through poet laughing
sound of morning awaking to gentle joy of my young daughters laughing
a beautiful sound is bliss joy of young daughters happiness laughing
a beautiful sound is healthy children fed soul wonder bliss laughing
a beautiful sound is our well fed children in joy mind song laughing
a beautiful sound is God smiling with me in child mind song laughing
poem by Terence George Craddock
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When It Storms
The thunder is a metaphor of the frustration I feel.
The rain – my tears.
The way the winds rip through the trees and destroys pieces of a living being –
just as I rampage in a whirl-wind breaking the spirit of myself and of the ones I love.
When the storm subsides, I cry no more.
My clouds have exhausted themselves.
Although the sun breaks through,
I am left with the guilt of being so harsh
of lashing out…
At the end of the storm,
I find a calm,
but not the peace I was hoping to find.
poem by Stacy Rodriguez
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Calm See
Calm Sea
Calm Sea
Calm Sea
How great you are
After the storm
poem by Aldo Kraas
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Calm Is Who I Am Now
CALM IS WHO I AM NOW
Calm is who I am now
Calm and quiet-
I have done
What I could do-
The rest is repetition-
Slowly slowly
Time is taking me away-
How long I do not know-
How much pain I do not know-
Calm is who I am now -
Quiet quiet
Before the fears return again
And the anxiety over what I have not done-
Calm is who I am now
In these moments at this hour
Four in the morning
A small part of the long day to come.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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The dancing whirling leaves
I will befall into my tomb
As a waning river falls to the sea
I embrace death the existence of ‘not to be’
As a child welcomes his calm night dream
I walked in the shadows of darkness and sorrow
Unfriendly and cold and alone
As dismally gurgle besides me
The bleak river desolate moan
The rise of the volleying thunder
The mountain’s lone echoes repeat
The roar whirl wind around me
The galling autumn leaves at my feet
I stooped in shadows of darkness and sorrow
Uncheered by the moon’s spangled ray
Not a friend that I love but is dead
Not a hope I have but have faded away
Oh Shall I rest in the tomb
Wrapped about with the chill winding white sheet
For the roar of the wind is around me
And the waving yellow leaves above my head
I heed not the blasts that sweep over me
I mind not the hail the storm and the raging sea
I blame not the tempest of night
They are not the foes who have banished
The visions of youthful delight
I hail the wild sound of their raving
Their merciless presence I greet
Oh let it be! Let me join these eternal elements
And roam the land and rove the vexed sea
Yet my fate is the roar of the wind engulfing me
And the piling reddened leaves at my feet
In this waste of existence and solitude, for solace
On whom shall my lone spiral call?
Shall I seek shall I fly to the friends of my bosom
My God I have buried them all
They are dead they are gone they are cold
My embrace no longer they meet or feel
Fall to the roar of the wind around me
The yellow leaves hissing in a macabre music at my feet
Those eyes that glanced love into mine
With motionless and cold slumber are pressed
Those hearts which once throbbed are no more in line
They are chill as the earth where they rest
Then around me my wan withered form
Let the pestilent gale beat
Submit to the howling wind around me
While the mocking leaves dance at my feet
Like the voice of the owl in the hall
Where the song of choir and the banquet ceased
Where the green weeds have mantled the hearth
Where raise the proud flame of feast
So I cry to the storm whose dark wings
Scatter on my eyes the wild driving sleet
Let the roar of the wind around me
And the dancing whirling clan leaves at my feet
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