From The Biography Of An Unknown Woman: Xxxi
i spotted her pondering by the shore
challenging the afternoon tropical sun
as if on an impulse
she walked in giant strides
with a sudden bout of energy
in spite of the humid heat
from a distance i could see
that she's fighting against
the tide of her thoughts
trying to pull her into the sea
she clutched at the sands
with her toes to no avail
the currents simply pulled
the sands from under her fragile feet
'i may not be a victor
but i won't give up either...'
spoke her face
as i saw her walking
back to the shore
from where her son was seen
waving to her...
08jun2010
04.00hrs
poem by Indira Babbellapati
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Ultima Thule: The Tide Rises, The Tide Falls
The tide rises, the tide falls,
The twilight darkens, the curlew calls;
Along the sea-sands damp and brown
The traveller hastens toward the town,
And the tide rises, the tide falls.
Darkness settles on roofs and walls,
But the sea, the sea in the darkness calls;
The little waves, with their soft, white hands,
Efface the footprints in the sands,
And the tide rises, the tide falls.
The morning breaks; the steeds in their stalls
Stamp and neigh, as the hostler calls;
The day returns, but nevermore
Returns the traveller to the shore,
And the tide rises, the tide falls.
poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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Tide Rises, the Tide Falls, The
The tide rises, the tide falls,
The twilight darkens, the curlew calls;
Along the sea-sands damp and brown
The traveler hastens toward the town,
And the tide rises, the tide falls.
Darkness settles on roofs and walls,
But the sea, the sea in darkness calls;
The little waves, with their soft, white hands
Efface the footprints in the sands,
And the tide rises, the tide falls.
The morning breaks; the steeds in their stalls
Stamp and neigh, as the hostler calls;
The day returns, but nevermore
Returns the traveler to the shore.
And the tide rises, the tide falls.
poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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The Tide Rises, the Tide Falls
The tide rises, the tide falls,
The twilight darkens, the curlew calls;
Along the sea-sands damp and brown
The traveller hastens toward the town,
And the tide rises, the tide falls.
Darkness settles on roofs and walls,
But the sea, the sea in the darkness calls;
The little waves, with their soft, white hands,
Efface the footprints in the sands,
And the tide rises, the tide falls.
The morning breaks; the steeds in their stalls
Stamp and neigh, as the hostler calls;
The day returns, but nevermore
Returns the traveller to the shore,
And the tide rises, the tide falls.
poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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Goodnight Till The Morning Sun
Walking
Walking upon white sands
Imprisoned by thoughts and narrow walls
That holds no comfort within right now
Walking
Walking beneath the sun
Yes warm
But feel embraced by the coldness
As hands touch loneliness
Down on hands and knees I go
To touch the warmth once more
But through clouds of smoke
I search for you
And the sun
Oh hear my voice upon the ocean
Within your dreams
Till the morning sun appears
And as sunshine warm your face
Open your eyes in joy
And know my thoughts are with you
But for now I am walking
Walking upon white sands
Imprisoned by narrow walls
And thoughts
That holds no comfort
But as I walk beneath the sun
Upon white sands within a dream
My heart belongs… to you
As I say goodnight
Till the morning sun.
poem by Robert Sheridan
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Clarity
do not eat words
do not eat my poetry
do not attempt to chew it
do not swallow it whole like how a boa swallows the whole pig
take your time. look at it. from the first word to the last.
think of this poem as syllables, not as thoughts, not as my thoughts.
or your thoughts. think of this poem as a feeling.
a baby sleeping. a calm look at the eye. a stare.
a grip. a hand grasping another hand.
a breath suspended in cold air.
two hands in prayer. think of this as the sound of a distant bell.
an orange dressed monk walking at the shore.
a leaf falling on the white sand.
a last step on the trip.
a beginning of a dream.
do not think now. Feel the sands slipping from your fingers.
See the sands falling on the floor of the sand.
do not move. Do not swallow your saliva.
And then speak the first word of this line.
This i think is clarity.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Sandy Toes Tickled Warm
Sands of time, sands of home, and sands of love
Sing such lovely songs to my well traveled
Sandy toes tickled warm Caribbean
Home –d and splashed with turquoise’s good sun
Foamy dances and lacey curls make public
Delicate beauty’s shells ~ bits of sea glass
Drifting barnacled treasures from above
Collected places, grains distance-d walked
Haulover, Melbourne, Sebastian, Peconic
Sanded estuaries, oceans and bays
Eternal tiny groundings filtering
Paths of His light, His times, home’s true heart
(Sweeping Memories, Tennessee
October 27,2006)
poem by Debora Short
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False Prophet?
You have humbled me-
Groveling for any stone
To throw;
Pebbles of yesteredays-
Paleolithic Era-
Sit silent-
In a copious-
Summer sun;
And you-
Drowning in such-
Circumstance...
The waters using you up-
Your energy dissolved-
In a mere flash-
One rip tide;
Gone in the glory-
And the deeps-
Unfathomnable-
Becomes the reality-
Of the still blue lagoon;
What a slap in the face-
From the tide...
It stung upon your-
Vanquished skin-
Shriveling from the water-
Logged tissue of your derma;
Down on your knees now-
In the glass house that-
You designed and built;
Flashes of a fresh view-
Of the sea and shore-
A Malibu moment resurrected;
Once accepted by you-
But unsatisfied- wanting more;
Away from the crags and rocky cliffs-
The pebbles-and the stones aside-
And onto the alibaster sands-
Where the heat comes rising from-
Your footprints-reminding even me-
That you were never immortal at all...
And Idoltry is not just a major sin but-
A delusion of the minds of those-
Who once believed in the magic of you.
Dedicated To: Sheltered aka: ...
poem by Theodora Onken
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From the biography of an unknown woman: IV
Her tears're never understood
But they're her closest companions
She's mostly seen around the sea
The sands and the sea sheltering
Her visible and invisible tears
High tide and low tide she watches
And quicklu sums up that
That's all life is all about
Sometimes she searches
The sands and the sea
If she could retrieve her tears
And if someone caught her tears
She would simply smile and say
'O, it's those sand particles, you see...'
19apr2010
20.53hrs
poem by Indira Babbellapati
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Sand Sculpture
the ebb and tide for once
froze as your deft hands
dealt with the sand particles
to carve my sculpture by the shore
under that hazy star light
i was sprawled on the stretching sands
and in the reflection of
your warm dreamy eyes
saw myself laid royal by the mighty sea
and regaled at your artistry
and the beauty you found in me
high on my foolish vanity
i dared to dance on the tip of waves
forgetting that i’m but a piece
of carefully arranged sand particles
the sea with its inimitable roar
came in rolling urgency and
simply pulled me into its embrace
05sep2009
19.50hrs
poem by Indira Babbellapati
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Waves And Foams On My Feet (revised)
when my feet step on the sands
and pebbles of the shore
i feel the life
stood upon by my whole body
when the waves
come and go like a pendulum on
my legs
leaving some sea caps
and foam on the hair
i begin to understand
who i am,
arriving and yet not staying
going away and yet coming back
in a matter of time
between storms and
clear days, and i agree with
the seagulls singing about life
and fading in a distance
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Waves And Foams On My Feet
when my feet steps on the sands
and pebbles of the shore
i feel the life
stood upon by my whole body
when the waves
come and go like a pendulum on
my legs
leaving some sea caps
and foam on the hair
i begin to understand
who i am,
arriving and yet not staying
going away and yet coming back
in a matter of time
between storms and
clear days, and i agree with
the seagulls singing about life
and fading in a distance
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Pre-Existence
I laid me down upon the shore
And dreamed a little space;
I heard the great waves break and roar;
The sun was on my face.
My idle hands and fingers brown
Played with the pebbles grey;
The waves came up, the waves went down,
Most thundering and gay.
The pebbles, they were smooth and round
And warm upon my hands,
Like little people I had found
Sitting among the sands.
The grains of sands so shining-small
Soft through my fingers ran;
The sun shone down upon it all,
And so my dream began:
How all of this had been before;
How ages far away
I lay on some forgotten shore
As here I lie to-day.
The waves came shining up the sands,
As here to-day they shine;
And in my pre-pelasgian hands
The sand was warm and fine.
I have forgotten whence I came,
Or what my home might be,
Or by what strange and savage name
I called that thundering sea.
I only know the sun shone down
As still it shines to-day,
And in my fingers long and brown
The little pebbles lay.
poem by Frances Darwin Cornford
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Pulled Up
Mommy, daddy, come and look at me now
Im a big man in a great big town
Years ago who would believe its true
Goes to show what a little faith can do
I was complaining, I was down in the dumps
I feel so strong now cause you pulled me up!
Pull me up up up up up up up up
I slipped, and I got pulled
Pulled up, I tripped, and then you pulled,
You pulled me up
I slipped, and I got pulled,
Pulled up, I slipped, and then you pulled,
You pulled me up pull me up pull me up...
Pulled me up up up up up up up up
I drift away to another land
Sleeping dreaming such a simple thing
I think of things that I might be
I see my name go down in history
I was complaining, I was down in the dumps
I feel so string now cause you pulled me up!
Pull me up up up up up up up up
I slipped, and I got pulled,
Pulled up, I tripped, and then you pulled,
You pulled me up
I tripped, and I got pulled
Pulled up, I slipped, and then you pulled
You pulled me up! pulled me up up, pulled me up...
Pulled me up up up up up up up up
I got up
cause you pulled me up
I stood up
cause you pulled me up
I got up
And that was because you pulled me up
I got up
In a little while you pulled me up
Pull me up up up up, up up up up!
Pull me up up up up up up up up!
I cast a shadow on the living-room wall
Dark and savage with a profile so sharp
Keep that wonderful food on the table
Theres really no hurry Ill eat in a while
I was complaining, I was down in the dumps
I feel so strong now cause you pulled me up!
Pull me up up up up up up up up!
I slipped, and I got pulled
Pulled up, I tripped, and then you pulled,
You pulled me up
I slipped, and I got pulled
Pulled up, I slipped,
And then you pulled, you pulled me up!
Pull me up...pull me up...watch out!
Pull me up up up up up up up up!
Pull me up up up up up up up up!
Pull me up up up up up up up up!
song performed by by Talking Heads
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Stranger On The Shore
The waves rush up around my feet
from an early morning tide.
Seagulls bob up and down
resting on the water
waiting patiently
for the underlining currents
to carry their breakfast in.
The sky is dark and cloudy
with the looks of an approaching storm.
I stand here as an observer
as life goes on around.
A stranger on the shore
waiting here for no one,
breathing in the fresh salt air
filled with ecstasy at all that I see.
The regal white crowned waves
dancing momentarily around my feet.
They say the world is your oyster
and the pearl is all you see.
From my lonely vigil,
I gather wisdom in
as I stand alone at each morning tide
a stranger on the shore.
poem by David Harris
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Curling Waters
The tide rolls in on curling waters,
then stretches its fingers to touch the shore.
It hisses as each wave breaks
and its white waters pound against
the sands and rolling stones.
We can sit for hours watching
its endless race
to see which finger
can go farthest up the shore.
Its waters then retreat
as a new wave takes its place.
25 September 2008
poem by David Harris
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The State Of Non-meaning
so many sands
long term plans
so many grains of sands
on the beach on the mind of man
oh, i guess
so many poems composed
each poem has become a grain of sands
so many grains
from my mouth
to my hands to my feet to the beach to the sands of time
in search for meaning
when actually there is none.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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My Journey
I've walked my feet
all over this earth.
I've done this walking
mere months from my birth.
I've walked when life
was insecure.
I've walked in sand
down by the shore.
I've followed the footsteps
of family and friends.
And sometimes these steps
led to dead ends.
But every step that I ever took
was a step towards finding you.
Would I do it again?
Of course I would.
Would I find you again?
I'd hope that I could.
For the walking is only
worth the while
if the miles I walked
produced your smile.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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Here, Here My Dear
we honestly did not intend to build a palace in the sky
you must understand our disappointments and sorrows
that is why we are playing with our hands on the sands of time
we do not intend to challenge the waters on the shore
we do not mind if everything we built is erased by it
we are merely squandering time because we have nothing meaningful to do anymore
we cannot simply delet ourselves like some innocuous words in the
sentence
we have no power to simply burst like a balloon release ourselves as air and leave the empty rubber on the ground
we have codes in our bones some inscriptions on our skins
the instructions are vague and incomplete that is why we are being held here with the caprices of too much waiting
come join us let us play on the sands of time let us swim on the
shallow seas of our usual existences
it is not fun really but it can be if we think it to be
it is all in the mind it is beautified by the heart
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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From the biography of an unknown woman: xxxvii
...And she looked back
standing by the shore
in a stark day light
trying to count
the innumerable steps
the sands hid
in her search for love
and for that one moment of
unadulterated passion
where the boundaries of
earth and above get
disolved...
'just like my foot-steps
on these sands!
can i ever trace?
how far i travelled
in search of love...
tough is the path not to think of
travails the self negotiates...! '
she mused
sea, the witness...
30aug2010
12.12 hrs
poem by Indira Babbellapati
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For music
ALONG the shore, along the shore
I see the wavelets meeting:
But thee I see--ah, never more,
For all my wild heart's beating.
The little wavelets come and go,
The tide of life ebbs to and fro,
Advancing and retreating:
But from the shore, the steadfast shore,
The sea is parted never:
And mine I hold thee evermore,
Forever and forever.
Along the shore, along the shore
I hear the waves resounding,
But thou wilt cross them nevermore
For all my wild heart's bounding:
The moon comes out above the tide
And quiets all the billows wide
Her pathway bright surrounding:
Thus on the shore, the dreary shore,
I walk with weak endeavor:
I have thy love's light evermore,
Forever and forever.
poem by Dinah Maria Mulock Craik
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