Codicil
Schizophrenic, wrenched by two styles,
one a hack's hired prose, I earn
me exile. I trudge this sickle, moonlit beach for miles,
tan, burn
to slough off
this live of ocean that's self-love.
To change your language you must change your life.
I cannot right old wrongs.
Waves tire of horizon and return.
Gulls screech with rusty tongues
Above the beached, rotting pirogues,
they were a venomous beaked cloud at Charlotteville.
One I thought love of country was enough,
now, even if I chose, there is no room at the trough.
I watch the best minds rot like dogs
for scraps of flavour.
I am nearing middle
age, burnt skin
peels from my hand like paper, onion-thin,
like Peer Gynt's riddle.
At heart there is nothing, not the dread
of death. I know to many dead.
They're all familiar, all in character,
even how they died. On fire,
the flesh no longer fears that furnace mouth
of earth,
that kiln or ashpit of the sun,
nor this clouding, unclouding sickle moon
withering this beach again like a blank page.
All its indifference is a different rage.
poem by Derek Walcott
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
On The Winter Beach
I walk on the winter beach
from here to there
and beyond where the beach ends
past indifferent sea gulls
over beached kelps
over bleached sea shells
to the sound of crushing waves
to the call of ebbing memories
I walk on the winter beach
I shall go
I must go
alone
beyond where the beach ends
poem by Suchoon Mo_
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Under A Blanket Of Stars
As we walked along the beach, crashing waves
thundered in our ears and a light, salted mist,
dampened our lips.
The sun began to set and the voice of the beach,
traveled across the ocean waves.
'I am the beach, and here you shall find peace.
I am the beach, here you shall find love.
In this domain, my beach, the answers you
search for, could very well be found here.
For at this beach, there is much,
that has been revealed.
The sparkled, white grains of sand, that blanket
this beach, has been a bed of comfort, to many.
Pause, as you come upon this beach, and listen
to the symphony of waves and the chorus of
birds, singing their song, as they glide in the wind.
Feel the power of this beach, as it seems to
renew your inner being. You need not question
the beach and its mystical powers. For as
millions before you have found, the beach...
and its magical transference to one...have
existed, since the beginning of time.
Be not troubled, for the beach is close at
hand. You need only to deliver your strife,
to the tranquility of the beach and it shall
be exercised from you.
When you go from this beach...leave with
the peace that you have found here.'
I Am The Beach...
As we walked along the beach, crashing waves
thundered in our ears and a light, salted mist,
dampened our lips.
The sun began to set and the voice of the beach,
traveled across the ocean waves.
'I am the beach, and here you shall find peace.
I am the beach, here you shall find love.
In this domain, my beach, the answers you
search for, could very well be found here.
For at this beach, there is much,
that has been revealed.
The sparkled, white grains of sand, that blanket
this beach, has been a bed of comfort, to many.
Pause, as you come upon this beach, and listen
to the symphony of waves and the chorus of
birds, singing their song, as they glide in the wind.
Feel the power of this beach, as it seems to
renew your inner being. You need not question
the beach and its mystical powers. For as
millions before you have found, the beach...
and its magical transference to one...have
existed, since the beginning of time.
Be not troubled, for the beach is close at
hand. You need only to deliver your strife,
to the tranquility of the beach and it shall
be exercised from you.
When you go from this beach...leave with
the peace that you have found here.'
The Power Of The Beach
As we walked along the beach, crashing waves
thundered in our ears and a light, salted mist,
dampened our lips.
The sun began to set and the voice of the beach,
traveled across the ocean waves.
'I am the beach, and here you shall find peace.
I am the beach, here you shall find love.
In this domain, my beach, the answers you
search for, could very well be found here.
For at this beach, there is much,
that has been revealed.
The sparkled, white grains of sand, that blanket
this beach, has been a bed of comfort, to many.
Pause, as you come upon this beach, and listen
to the symphony of waves and the chorus of
birds, singing their song, as they glide in the wind.
Feel the power of this beach, as it seems to
renew your inner being. You need not question
the beach and its mystical powers. For as
millions before you have found, the beach...
and its magical transference to one...have
existed, since the beginning of time.
Be not troubled, for the beach is close at
hand. You need only to deliver your strife,
to the tranquility of the beach and it shall
be exercised from you.
When you go from this beach...leave with
the peace that you have found here.'
Under A Blanket Of Stars...
As we walked along the beach, crashing waves
thundered in our ears and a light, salted mist,
dampened our lips.
The sun began to set and the voice of the beach,
traveled across the ocean waves.
'I am the beach, and here you shall find peace.
I am the beach, here you shall find love.
In this domain, my beach, the answers you
search for, could very well be found here.
For at this beach, there is much,
that has been revealed.
The sparkled, white grains of sand, that blanket
this beach, has been a bed of comfort, to many.
Pause, as you come upon this beach, and listen
to the symphony of waves and the chorus of
birds, singing their song, as they glide in the wind.
Feel the power of this beach, as it seems to
renew your inner being. You need not question
the beach and its mystical powers. For as
millions before you have found, the beach...
and its magical transference to one...have
existed, since the beginning of time.
Be not troubled, for the beach is close at
hand. You need only to deliver your strife,
to the tranquility of the beach and it shall
be exercised from you.
When you go from this beach...leave with
the peace that you have found here.'
Sickle
SICKLE
Love moon and its nature,
Don`t make it a sickle,
Don`t divide moon between Hindu and Mohanden or Christian,
Don`t shed blood in the universe,
Moon is moon,
Man is man,
Don`t divide and try to cut it,
With a sickle
poem by Dr. Ram Sharma
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Memories Of The Beach
We went to the beach to get wind in our hair
to stand on the sand and simply to stare.
To let the surf tickle toes and dampen our clothes
as we played 'run away'
from the wavelets at play.
We went to the beach to climb on the rocks
find cool shallow pools where we'd take of our socks,
and peer in the waters to see what we might find
that the waves of the sea,
had last left behind.
We went to the beach to find coloured shells
the kind that when placed to our ears
make the sound of the ocean appear,
and gathered rocks that we never would find
in the places we walked,
for most of the time.
We went to the beach and all that, we did find
and the smell of the salt refreshed our tired minds.
I'll never forget the laughter and sounds
and the freedom to run,
on that wet sandy ground.
We went to the beach my family and I
and there we were one,
with the ocean, the beach, and the sky.
poem by David Taylor
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On that Beach
On that Beach,
A nature's dream,
All I have ever went out to seek,
I had realized,
Opened up my eyes,
And I had seen,
Right there,
On that Beach.
My brother's girlfriend,
Grinning as she shoved her hand,
Inside his chest,
And stole his heart,
Only so that she could,
Soon enough,
On that beach,
Smirk,
And throw it into the sea.
On that beach,
I can still smell the summer blooms,
Even though I am miles away,
This memory will never go,
In the middle of that lonely beach,
My first experience of tasting my last lust’s desire,
To be free,
As I wished,
But held down,
Tight and cruel,
For it to be so good,
That it hurt.
In the middle of that lonely beach,
A meadow.
There he took my hand,
There I met him,
There I gave myself to him,
There he embraced me,
There he left me,
'Goodbye, get over yourself, ' he said, 'wake up! What are you scared of! Ha? If you don’t start living right now, then you never will. I don’t need you anymore, because your so weak and insecure. Goodbye.'
With a single rotation of passion and the end to what we never were.
Us.
On that beach,
The sea so cold,
I saw a bird singing on and on,
About the things it’s seen before it came to live.
On that beach,
There was a tree,
Halfway falling to the ground,
With a struggle it came down.
On that beach,
Everything was being torn apart,
In the sandstorm it all died,
Drop by drop,
My life had trickled down,
On the floor.
On that beach I bit my lip,
I tasted blood,
Didn’t wish to see the chaos,
I screamed out loud,
A smile on my face had spread,
And finally,
The sea buried me.
I was born here,
I belong,
And I will die here,
It’s the only right thing that I will ever do,
In the right time,
In the right place.
poem by Lili Freebird
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The Super-Moon
The astronomers, common people, kids are gazing
At the Super-moon that has appeared in the sky.
The super-moon is so big, so bright, so charming
That the bystanders cannot even blink their eye.
Next day, the burning furnace of the Sun will burn
The shimmering of Super-moon with its warmth.
What will change tomorrow? Will the waves turn?
Will fate of the poor change? Can death be birth?
The poor who sleep at rough footpaths of the city
Were sleeping starved in the chilly moonlit night.
They had nothing to do with the moon's luminosity,
If the moon were bread they could eat it with delight.
poem by Osman Gani
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Dance with you
Sittin' on the beach
The island king of love
Deep in fijian seas
Deep in some blissful dream
Where the godess finally sleeps
In the lap of her lover
Subdued in all her rage
And I am aglow with the taste of the demons driven out
And happily replaced with the presence of real love
The only one who saves
I wanna dance with you
I see a world where people live and die with grace
The karmic ocean dried up and leave no trace
I wanna dance with you
I see a sky full of the stars that change our minds
The stilness in your eyes
Convinces me that I
I don't know a thing
And I've been around the world and I've tasted all the wines
A half a billion times came sickness to our shores
You show me what this life is for
I wanna dance with you
I see a world where people live and die with grace
The karmic ocean dried up and leave no trace
I wanna dance with you
I see a sky full of the stars that change our minds
And lead us back to a world we would not face
In this altered state
Full of so much pain and rage
You know we got to find a way to let it go
Sittin' on the beach
The island king of love
Deep in fijian seas
Deep in the heart of it all where the godess finally sleeps
After eons of war and lifetimes
She smilin' and free
song performed by by Live from The Distance To Here
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Solitude On The Beach
I walk alone where we once walked,
the sand between my toes,
memories stalk my mind.
I look to the ocean, so endless.
Will I ever understand why
this ended so suddenly?
The waves crash, reminding me
of the sand castle we built.
It had to fall sometime,
and I guess our love had to fall too.
Why so soon? Why like this?
It seems like just yesterday.
The waves spray cold water
and I realize it's time to go.
Solitude on the beach will always be
my only connection to you
Since you are miles away
sleeping with the golden sun
and I am here on earth
left with only solitude on the beach.
Lost At Sea.
You remember now the sound of the sea,
The crashing of waves, the white and grey
Gulls in the sky. Mother said, don’t go too
Far out; keep an eye on the young ones.
The cold water made you hop about when
It first went over your bare feet. You knew
Where the young ones were, you could see
Them there at the water’s edge running in
And out as the cold water chased them.
The beach was crowded; the crowds seemed
To occupy each area with their deckchairs,
Windbreakers and towels spread on the sand.
The bright sun shone down heavily; the air
Was still. And Mother’s voice loudly shouting,
Where’s Baba? Where’s she gone? And the
Place she was with the others was without
Her presence now; the panic gripped you.
Your eyes scanned the beach and sea; you ran
Along the beach near the water’s edge gazing
Out at the wide expanse of ocean, ignoring the
Passing ships on the horizon, the sailing boats,
The far out swimmers, just looking for Baba,
Your eyes searching each face, each child, every
Little one running on the beach or out at sea out
Of reach. Mother came running down the beach
Towards you, her face red with effort, her mouth
Screaming out words carried off by the other
Sounds and the sea’s call, pointing out at ocean’s
Hold as a man came up and out of the waves,
Water dripping, eyes wide, and in his arms, Baba
Limp and her swaying head, hair hanging wet,
Seeming lost to you, small arms swinging, dead.
poem by Terry Collett
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In My Wild Flights Of Fancy The Ocean I Can See
The blueness of the saltwater the white waves rolling free
In my wild flights of fancy the ocean i can see
The silver gulls and black backed gulls above the white beach cry
And the sun is shining brightly in the clear and sunny sky,
The children in the shallows they laugh and splash and run
In the coolness of sea water their way of having fun
On a pleasant day in Summer of 25 degrees
And there is a soothing freshness in the freshening ocean breeze,
The distinctive smell of the seaweed washed in by the last tide
A refuge from beach predators for tiny sea things to breed in and hide
Coastal people love the ocean and near the ocean they choose to stay
And in the coastal cemeteries their last remains do lay
The rumble of the ocean the white waves running free
And in my flights of fancy the sea is calling me.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Orange Dunes
Even if there were no sun,
no moon in the night-time sky
the shine of these two
by any measure is
not surpassed by the light in each
of your eyes.
Even if I did not love you
Love itself would gladly take my place,
its enchantment a testament
to the lily-fire which resides there
beneath that peaches and cream skin,
that furnace mouth,
that wild hair
which flies on its own
independent
of summer breezes,
as ocean breakers
throw themselves upon the beach
for you,
where your shoeless tracks
in the sand
exist as tiny monuments
of your having passed there.
The starfish smile in the shallows,
the clams bubble
the crayfish line up silently;
the summer sun comes down to crest-height
to gaze upon you,
the gulls caw! and caw!
footmen
sounding the call
you'd come for another days walk
on the beach.
I watch from afar
as wavy foam
from the breaker surge
spews high into the air
obscuring your gauzy shape
as it slowly shimmers and disappears
behind sand dunes of smoky orange.
It is enough to worship here each day
as you go by
no need for consummation
or hesitant introductions.
I am content with Love's Worship
because its perfections perfectly match
your apparition there-
gliding from unknown origins-
a breath-taking passage,
into spiraling sea- foam
leaving behind tiny shoeless tracks
soon rushed upon
by an adoring, loving sea.
poem by Lonnie Hicks
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Happy Dog
I’m a happy dog at the beach
If I had the power of speech
I would tell you all
To throw my ball
I’m a happy dog at the beach
I’m a happy dog at the beach
There are no new tricks you can teach
I’m bouncy and glad
And my tail wags like mad
I’m a happy dog at the beach
I’m a happy dog at the beach
My joy is always in reach
Whatever the talk
It’s the best place to walk
I’m a happy dog at the beach
I’m a happy dog at the beach
As I hear the seagulls screech
I chase and I bark
Long into the dark
I’m a happy dog at the beach
I’m a happy dog at the beach
And I don’t want to start to preach
But if you ask me
The best thing to see
Is a happy dog at the beach
poem by Flying Lemming
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Mr. Fish
One day mr. Fish,
was making a pasta dish,
then suddenly he thought,
about what he was taught,
his teacher would always say,
'no fish can go out of the sea anyday'
he shook his head,
then clearly said,
'I will go out of the ocean,
to breathe I'll take a potion'
mr. Fish said farewell,
to his freinds and family aswell,
for safety he bought a whip,
then he set off on his trip,
he made it to the shore,
but he still wanted to do more,
he flopped onto the road,
his backpack was a very big load,
so he started to tire,
then he saw a very big fire,
'aagh' he screamed,
then he dreamed,
that he was back in fishville,
because the fire was burning over his hill,
he went back on the beach,
then there was a loud screech,
mr Fish didn't make it,
because seconds before he was hit,
he died of burn,
all the fish had to learn,
to not go out of the water,
because it would end by being slaughtered.
poem by Svenili Hughes
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The exiles
As an exile I live
in a country that despises me,
despises my whole nation, our language,
the colour of our skin
where the president
has opened the doors wide
to all of Africa,
and citizens from other countries
are more welcome here than us
but even if he tries
to drive me and my people
into the sea, as immigrants
right into the wide world,
like my ancestors
I have sprouted from this very earth
and there’s no other place
where I can make a living,
no other place that calls me
with the same intensity
and although work is being reserved
by the colour of skin
and my patience is running very thin
and I struggle to survive
in the situation that I am in
no highfalutin balderdash
of this country only belonging
to those who are black
is going to break my people or me
and still we trust God,
to change circumstances,
to change the mindset op people,
and if not to conquer and destroy
to make this country a place
in which all its citizens
have the opportunity
to make a living
and to be free in speech,
in dignity, in association,
in religious beliefs,
to live a life
according to your own culture and values.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Another Near To Perfect Day
In the sky the sun brightly shining the blue sky with some clouds of gray
On an afternoon in late October another near to perfect day
The white surf waves are gently rolling one reason no surfer in sight
And the silver gulls on the white beach search for food in the warm sunlight
An artist may well sketch such beauty and writers about it may write
By the coastal town on the surf beach there is beauty in peace and quiet
Today the ocean is not roaring no big waves for surfers to ride
The waves on the beach gently lapping so timid the sea at low tide
In the park the magpie larks calling the only notes they sing pee wee
And wattlebirds on the flowering coastal banksias their harsh calls familiar to me
On a beautiful day in the Springtime of around 24 degrees
And there is a cool sort of freshness in the cool freshening coastal breeze
Save for the silver gulls the beach is deserted and so clean is the fresh coastal air
A good memory to keep and to cherish and a good memory with others to share.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Dark Crescent Moon Waves
Walking on the beach,
Staring at the sea of eternity
on how it is so serene at night,
watching the dark water is lit up by the crescent moon that is sunken
into the sea of life
Hearing the water crashing to the beach,
and seeing the swirling twilight sky is reflected on the dark water,
like it's the mirror to my soul
The push and pull of the waves,
is cursed by the black magic that moons hold
a curse that is so beautiful and so powerful
Like a picture in a sky
that is burn to my mind,
The dark mist of cloud covering the moon and sky like a blanket,
but sailing in the dark sea sky
Soon the sky of twilight fades away
as the phoenix's sun rise breaking through the clouds of dusk
and now the sea becomes in rage
as tides come down like god's hammer
and the sun's lights the sea in emerald green
The ocean is like another realm of life
where can it be beautiful and dangerous
poem by RyuOh Kenshin
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Sonnet: Change You Can But…
Change you can your hair color, not your skin;
Change you can your smile and grin: not your eyes;
Change you can your sex partners, not your kin;
Change you can your sinful life: Be soul-wise!
Change you can your friends and foes, not parents;
Change you can your teacher/guide, not your brain;
Change you can your exam-marks, not talents;
Change you can your habits bad and be sane.
Change you can the environment, not the sun;
Change you can the landscape old, not the soil;
Change you can your temperament and not run;
Change you can your heart and mind: you must toil.
Change you can your ambitions but be brave;
Change you can your life-styles much but behave!
6-3-2001
poem by John Celes
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