How Many Grains Of Sand Are There On The Beach?
we are on the beach
it is a very bright and warm day
the coconut leaves are cooling us
the shade is comforting
the sands so white
the sea is crystal blue
the sea gulls are singing
colored fishes come up from time to time
hiding in the corals
if you want to know how many grains of white sands
are there on this beach
begin the count
for the meantime
we are taking our much needed plunge
we leave you for a while
enjoy yourself.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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.'
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.'
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.'
Fathomless
Beaches covered with sands of time--
Coast lines edges in scalloped design-
Lighthouse beams shine at whats left behind...
While the seas ebb and flow leave nothing to find;
Just ragged soaked memory echos--
In the shells i put to my ears...
Just oysters minus the pearls of wisdom...
My body 'tis drenched from crying my tears;
With no comforting harbor even in view...
With no loving lagoon harboring youl...
With no alibaster sands-all brand new--
Even with our love once deep as the blue;
Yes, the beaches are covered in sands of time--
Much like an hour-glasss but with a chime--
Ringing the bells for the season of the reason to rhyme...
For loosing you 'tis a fathomless crime;
On to distant and greener shores you are?
And i will never understand the reason- or the why...
Sitting here in the sandy granules of an empty beach--
Remembering you-i again begin to cry;
June 12,2010
The Essence
poem by Theodora Onken
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Me, My Dog, And The Beach
To the beach, my dog and I run,
Play catch frisbees, just for fun.
Umbrella's to block the sun,
Waves crash upon the sand.
My dog chases gulls that try to land. Sky so blue, sand so white,
My dog and I, were up at daylight.
Winds are warm and blowing slight,
Ocean sprays, dog strays,
Sand blows, through our toes. It gets cool, the sun goes down,
My dog and I, head back to town.
It's time we leave the beach to rest.
After all, we were just a guest.
All the birds have flown away.
We will come back, another day.
Just me and my dog, to play.
poem by Karen Curcio
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Self-searching
we always want to spend
Independence Day on the beach
what is it that we want to be reminded of?
the sands? yes what about the sand?
the grains?
when we arrive there
the kids run to meet the sea with laughter
the sea breeze is salty yet cool
the trees are tall and big and shady
the silent sands are peopled now
we will be too busy with fun
feeling saved and going public with
all that happiness gives us
the silent sands look at us with a gaze
it has a record of the past
it has absorbed the memories of the sea
it looks at us with pity
what is it about the sands and their silence?
i think i know it but my friend you must find it yourself.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Geography and you
you do not plant
trees in the big forest
neither shall you sell
ice drops in the
north pole
in tropical paradise
we are the lazy people who
spend most of our time
sun bathing in the beach
watching sea gulls
breathing the salt of the air
sipping cold mango juice
painting yachts
burying our bodies under the
comfort of the the white sands.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Morning on the Beach and wish I was with Sweetie
Morning on the beach and wish I was with Sweetie
Wind whines and whines the moments away
The crazy sea keeps moving and groaning
Oh.. how I wish it was me moving and groaning with Sweetie
From the far end, white sands of the beach
Grey sea comes to the shore and back
Some old tourists touch and play with the water
Oh.. how I wish it was me touching and playing with Sweetie
From the east the sun rises over the beach
Red big, bright and mighty rays
The Sun promises to be happy and hot as always
Oh.. how I wish I was happy and hot with Sweetie always
From the grounds plants waking up to a bright day on the beach
Darkness disappearing as the sun rises
Just like fear disappears when love and joy comes
Oh.. how I wish, my joy and love remove fear from Sweetie
poem by Nyota Yasulwe
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At The Seaside, A Solitude
the seaside is peaceful
the sky is blue with white cumulus clouds hanging there
slowly they move and change shapes
like the air is painting and mixing the colors in space
gentle hues graceful strokes
the white sands extend to some miles
the coconut trees are like handshakes
their shadows restive and steady
i lay my body weary of the years
i look at all these lines and circles and spheres
i like to give up thinking and just be a spectator
i let them talk and i merely listen
the seaside, the seagull, the clouds, the coconut trees, the white sands,
the circles and spheres and lines extending
to nowhere.
i cover my eyes with a straw hat. I cease.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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I Miss The Beach
I miss everything about the beach from the sands between my toes to the mighty sound of the ocean crashing against the rocks; it is there where I found my serenity.
I miss the sun raise to the sun fall at the beach, where its true colors have this wonderfully glow right at the point of when the sun touches the water.
I miss the smell of the salted water when the wind blows, I miss the way the sun feels when it caress my face, it has this magical warmth.
I miss the beach from the family fun to the just one on one in the sun, it reminds me of what home feel like, I miss seen the kids playing in the water, and how the fire bounces off the ocean in the darkness of night.
I miss the beauty of the beach for this is the loveliest gift that God has created for us to enjoy our time with each other, oh how I miss the beach.
poem by Kimbaline Navas
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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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A Nude Story
the light blue sea marks a boundary with a mild wave and foam
along the sands of the shore two white empty benches hold a pink bikini and a white swimming trunk
at the other side of another empty beach chair,
is the bra
the calm sea erases the footsteps towards it
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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A White Woman With Pink Two-piece Suit
she has blonde hair
a perfect body
white against the dark
she walks alone
along the white sands of this beach
i follow her and she knows
i am following her
she stops. she stoops to pick up a shell.
she looks at it carefully.
i stop and look at her too.
she smiles. i smile too.
we exchange no word.
for this meeting.
i change my direction.
she does not follow me.
the message becomes clear.
there is no meeting
of our minds.
i remove my shorts.
and shirt.
i go to the sea and
plunge my body.
the sea is hot.
the sun is up.
i dive deeper.
i have not seen
anything.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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On This Beach...
Life is a beach.
There are jellyfish. And sea urchins…the painful bumps along the road that we all encounter in life. On this beach.
In life..and on a beach there is warm water-like times, when we are happy, and have good times and enjoy living. On this beach.
We also have times, like a beach, when we have cold water times; when we are sad, or upset about losing someone or something. On this beach.
There are rough times, the same way the sea has rough water that pounds angrily against the shore. On this beach.
Life, like the sea, has high and low times, or tides. There is low tide when you think u can no longer go on, that life has done too much damage to you. Then the tide comes back in…and you are reminded that life goes on. Life gets better. You cannot give up on life, like you can’t give up on a beach because of a rough day or low tides. On this beach.
Life has sharks. Maybe not the same sharks from a beach, but they are there. They are the people that thrive on your pain and tears and hardship, the same way a shark sustains itself through brutal killing of unaware seals who don’t know what is coming or how bad it is. The sharks are there. Waiting. For someone…for you…like an unsuspecting seal, to come along and unknowingly become trapped in their lies and hurt. On this beach.
Life…has good times. Wonderful times where the only thoughts you have are about how much life is worth living and how much you love life. It is like the clear, cool blue water on a beautiful day at the beach. On this beach.
Life has those amazing people….akin to the beachgoers on a sandy shore…just along for the ride…to enjoy the good…and pack up and leave when it rains or something goes wrong. But there are the surfers..the daredevils…going back into the fear and love of the sea….of life. They risk the sharks, and jellyfish, and rough water and low and high tides, not because they are invincible, but because they know about the good that is to be had in this world. On this beach.
Life is so comparable to a beach…most importantly in that it has sand like a beach. Billions upon billions of unique grains of sand, like the 7 billion different people in this world, on this beach.
poem by Dark Fallout
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Heart's Day
we went on a picnic to the beach
with samsam, a local dog,
pret, my poodle, kuting, my japanese spitz,
bonbon, our dachshund
emma, my wife brought her favorite househelp named tatang,
marinel and gina, her friends cooked the potatoes
and prepared the sushi
jasmine rice that looked like tiny pearls
and pork barbecue
pret, my loyal poodle went with me walking
while kuting and bonbon played on the grass
barking and chasing some teasing finches
the air is cool
the sun not so bright at ten a.m.
clouds hang like soaked cottons
the sea is crystal clear like a mirror
the corals are visible
with some stone fishes
emma snored while asleep
and tatang excused herself to take a view of the place
i took my plunge alone in that crystal sea: splash!
it is a beautiful life
and on this day of the hearts
i can hear mine singing.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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at the beach in boracay February 2011
the coconut trees
line up the white sands
along the shores
of my privacy
like green umbrellas
with hands and fingers
touching no one here
but only skies
the sea is a lonely woman
with a flat blue belly
waiting for our legs and arms
in this place i am obscene
still thinking about what i should not have shared with you
i tell the sea
i am in love and i must be forgiven
but it does not believe me
the sands as usual
look at me with blank eyes
the waves are all
having their tongues-in-cheek
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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A View
driftwood
with seven twigs
on the shore
as clear as glass
is the water
and all stones and pebbles
are visible
above
blue skies
so blue that the white cotton clouds
appear like sperm cells moving
impregnating
an earth-sky womb
and then
it rains
the water rises
the drift wood again taken
floating
gently to another shore
another island
of white sands
a coconut tree towers
to reach a waft of cloud
winds as cool as ice
sands slipping on the fingers
a leaf from a guyabano tree falls
on the mouth
of a sleeping woman
beside her
the man whose arms are enclosing
her throughout
the rainy night
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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My Friend You Must....
we always want to spend
Christmas on the beach
what is it that we want to be reminded of?
the sands?
yes what about the sand?
when we arrive there
the kids run to meet the sea with laughter
the sea breeze is salty yet cool
the trees are tall and big and shady
the silent sands are peopled now
we will be too busy with fun
feeling saved and going public with
all that happiness gives us
the silent sands look at us with a gaze
it has a record of the past
it has absorbed the memories of the sea
it looks at us with pity
what is it about the sands?
and their silence?
i think i know it
but my friend you must find it yourself.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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