One Typhoon Day
come typhoon
i walk along the shore
and think of you
i told the sea
what i felt for you
i left the shores
the waves rage
taking in
the shells the fish
my footsteps
on the sands
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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In The Summer
In the summer
I stretch out on the shore
And think of you
Had I told the sea
What I felt for you,
It would have left its shores,
Its shells,
Its fish,
And followed me.
Translated by B. Frangieh And C. Brown
Submitted by Noele Aabye
poem by Nizar Qabbani
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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O Cruel Sea!
No more will I go near the sea!
No more will I stand on a beach;
No more will I live near a shore;
The sea no more looks lovely!
No more will I play on its sands;
No more will I bask in its sun;
No more will I watch ships and boats;
The sea has lost its glory!
No more will I walk on the shore;
No more will I build sand-castles;
No more will I eat sea-fish foods;
The sea has lost its beauty!
No more will I go over-seas;
No more will I adore the waves;
No more will I yearn for the sea;
The sea has lost its sanctity!
No more will I deep-dive for pearls;
No more will I collect sea-shells;
No more will I dream of Blue Sea;
The sea’s a Mass-Grave, watery!
poem by John Celes
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Footsteps
(l. stansfield/i. devaney/r. darbyshire/f. musker)
Dont give up, youre not alone
Though youre weak and chilled to the bone
I will shore the pain that youre going through
If theres one set of footsteps Ill be carrying you
If theres one
One set of footsteps in the sand
One set of footsteps
If theres one
One set of footsteps in the sand
One set of footsteps
If youre losing faith, Ill understand
Dont be afraid Im holding your hand
If you trust in me then I will be true
If theres one set of footsteps Ill be carrying you
If theres one
One set of footsteps in the sand
One set of footsteps
If theres one
One set of footsteps in the sand
One set of footsteps
Then Im gonna walk on, walk on
Im gonna walk on till the hurt is gone
Walk on, walk on
Im gonna keep going, gonna carry on
Walk on, walk on
Im gonna walk on
Im gonna walk on
Dont give up, youre not alone
Gotta try to be strong, youve got to move on
Just hold on tight and youll make it through
If theres one set of footsteps Ill be carrying you
If theres one
One set of footsteps in the sand
One set of footsteps
If theres one
One set of footsteps in the sand
One set of footsteps
Walk on, walk on
Walk on, walk on
Im gonna walk on till its gone
song performed by by Lisa Stansfield
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Walking In My Footsteps
You're walking in my footsteps
From the tracks
That I have left.
You're walking in my footsteps
For now you see
My regrets.
For now you walk
With a limp
From your burdens
Your back is bent.
And you're walking in my footsteps
For now I see
That you're upset
You're walking the road
That I've walked before
The one I swore
I'd walk no more.
And you're walking in my footsteps
For now you see
The tracks I left
You're walking it so fast
Just like a run
Leaving the mud prints
Under the sun
That dries up
and turns to dirt
Which blows away
But stays the hurt.
And you're walking in my footsteps
From your burdens
That I have kept
I see the blood
That I have shed
Mixed with yours
Though it still is red.
And you're walking in my footsteps
For the footsteps now, are the same
With the same depth
From the same tears
From the same old troubles
From the same old fears.
And you're walking in your footsteps
For mine are gone
And yours are here.
Randy L. McClave
poem by Randy McClave
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Ocean of memories....
When one day missing you becomes unbearable
I will seek you out from deep within the ocean of my memories
Walk on the sands of time till it lead me to your sunkissed shores
Where our journey ended and love will once again be reborn
Here i will await your loving heart
I will gaze out across the ocean
Breathe in the winds of hope
Close my eyes and cast the nets of faith once more
Reel in the vision of bygone times
In one precious moment
I shall surrender my soul, my heart, my being
To the rememberance of the fragrance of your body
Rediscovering its secrets
I shall recall the waves to the shore
and bathe blissfully in the ocean of your memories
We shall become one
Dance to the rhythm of our heartbeats
Watch a million butterflies taking flight
Shimmering bubbles floating above us
Watch the sun as it rises and sets in eyes yours and mine
Embrace and behold the beauty of loves tidal wave
Ride the waves of ecstacy
Reaching a crescendo
As each wave of passion hits the shore
and we evanesce into sprays of pearls and water
Ultimately
just another dropp in the ocean of memories
A Torch, A Hand, A Cross!
the silent graves are shouting,
the waves come for the shore.
the time of thunder beckons,
the page is left unsigned.
miracles turn to ashes,
in the hearth of limitless time.
love burns in small fires left unnoticed,
the copper kettle is blind.
there's nothing left to say,
for words are tiny shells.
tiny shells cant hold oceans,
still oceans seek a home!
i only pray perhaps the snow will bring,
a torch, a hand, a cross!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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31
A fish that drinks like a fish, that is a fish in excess
A fish that fishes in troubled waters, that is a fish taking advantage of another fish in trouble
A fish that fishes or cuts bait, well, to be or not to be, to retreat or to attack, that is the fishy question
A fish that is neither fish nor fowl, is a fish that is neither one nor the other, lacking some convictions
A fish out of water, is a fish feeling left out, no longer in his accustomed environment
Do you have other fish to fry for now?
Is there other matter requiring my attention?
Poor fish,
the lake is finally fished out from his fishy mind.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Some things that can happen with a fish
A fish that drinks like a fish, that is a fish in excess
A fish that fishes in troubled waters, that is a fish taking advantage of another fish in trouble
A fish that fishes or cuts bait, well, to be or not to be, to retreat or to attack, that is the fishy question
A fish that is neither fish nor fowl, is a fish that is neither one nor the other, lacking some convictions
A fish out of water, is a fish feeling left out, no longer in his accustomed environment
Do you have other fish to fry for now?
Is there other matter requiring my attention?
Poor fish,
the lake is finally fished out from his fishy mind.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Shards Of Dreams
shards of dreams
carefully placed in
a silver container
quick, some quickfix, please!
some shards
scattered on the shore
walk along,
they prick and cause bleeding
a trail on the damp sands
the waves
hit and break
at the shore...
poem by Indira Babbellapati
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The Waves Of The Earth As Analogy
time is like the waves
of the sea carrying some season in between
the folds of our consciousness
burying some and then after a while
taking them back to the
shores of our being and we think that there is an end to all these
but the folds come back
recede and go somewhere to another shore
and another shore and another and another
and on the limitations of our
seeing we do not anymore remember but our
hearts still
our mouths no longer speaking
our tongues however
like our noses somehow have the glimpse
of the taste and smell
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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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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Personal Evolution
My shores are all but gone now...
Time has claimed my sands
Tears i have cried o'er Love that has died
My waves ebb and flow now on command;
The moon has all but given up
Taken it's leave from shining o'er Earths floor
Silence and sorrow are my constant companions
Embraced by tattered shores of nevermore;
Life 'tis but a glimpse of Divine Light...
A solumn glimpse of Eternity...
Shores of once sweet abandon-are gone now
Swallowed up, i am now, by the Sea;
poem by Theodora Onken
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Simple Shells
simple shells,
formed by time,
and experience....
once carried by life,
now left behind,
a gift? or just memory...
echoing the sound
of waves pounding
some far off shore....
waiting for the hands
of a child!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Weekend To Remember
please don't look at me light that
don't gaze at me that long
i have a weekend to remember
i cannot yet tell you
about the excitement of the place
the sun there and the sea
one day it rains and then the rainbow
on time came
i smile and take the walk of my life
on the white sands and
calming waves
the sounds of folding and unfolding
palms of the water
the shells singing silence in the winds
thoughts taking wings
and flying to the high mountains
trees that know how to dance with me
dews on early morning so pearly
don't take a hard look at me
just understand
i am on my trance again
on some things that i want to become true.
go away and understand, i know how to manage
my life, i know, i know,
i can still sit and stand and dance and sleep.
these basics of living
leave them all to me.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Faith, Hope And Trust
We all make those decisions,
To follow that which attracts...
Our footsteps to walk on certain paths.
Some choose to seek a validation given.
Hopeful that an approval,
Will greet and meet them along the way.
Others make selections because of 'something' felt.
Something inside at first denied.
And feelings of aloneness upon them are dealt.
We all make those decisions,
To follow that which attracts...
Our footsteps to walk on certain paths.
And one day that climb on a path begins to clear.
A purpose that erases doubts...
Inside is felt to be near.
And all fears one had of being alone with feelings sad,
Disappear.
Knowing it was faith, hope and trust...
That never left them abandoned.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Yann tersen
It is an afternoon
Walk by the
Beach
An orange sunset
Follows me
Like
I am closely
Guarded for some
Unknown
Danger
I walk alone
The sea foams
surging
from
Time to time
Touching my
heels and toes
An alternate
Of sand
Foam
And sea
And sunset
Rinsing
My footsteps
I am looking
For some
Shells of
My past
On a sunset shore
Retracing
It to
The mouth
Of the river
At the
Other end
River
Meets
Sea as
I closely watch
The sunset
is still
closely guarding.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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43
It is an afternoon
Walk by the
Beach
An orange sunset
Follows me
Like
I am closely
Guarded for some
Unknown
Danger
I walk alone
The sea foams
surging
from
Time to time
Touch my
heels and toes
An alternate
Of sand
Foam
And sea
And sunset
Rinsing
My footsteps
I am looking
For some
Shells of
My past
On a sunset shore
Retracing
It to
The mouth
Of the river
At the
Other end
River
Meets
Sea as
I closely watch
The sunset closely guarding.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Sunset As I Remember It
It is an afternoon
Walk by the Beach
An orange sunset
Follows me Like
I am closely
Guarded for some
Unknown Danger
I walk alone
The sea foams
surging from
Time to time
Touch my
heels and toes
An alternate
Of sand Foam
And sea
And sunset
Rinsing
My footsteps
I am looking
For some Shells of
My past
On a sunset shore
Retracing It to
The mouth
Of the river
At the Other end
River Meets
Sea as I closely watch
The sunset closely guarding.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Yes, Let The Sleeping Dogs Just Lie Peacefully On The Beach
yes, mr. clark,
let the sleeping dogs just
lie peacefully on the
white sands of the beach
let them sleep well
to the songs of the
sea breeze
let the waves be
gentle and
let the one who
thinks so well
have that clear and calm
eye
let him pass
his way and let his footsteps
every footstep
be erased by the winds
by the waves of the
gentlest sea
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Beach,4 P.m. Somewhere...
as i walk along the beach
this afternoon
i give in to the child in me
picking up stones,
amazed by its colors
and shapes
i begin to make stories out
of them...stones, smaller ones,
like a creature possessed by an
enigma,
there must be an underlying
truth to its
shape, it is, as it must
be telling me about
what happens to me
after this?
is this a hurting enigma?
am i mad at my attempt to give meaning
to one without meaning?
i am interpreting a pebble
the smallness of humility the silence
of the insignificant
the wars of the sands
the struggle of the waves of the sea
chasing each other
as to who reaches the thighs of
the shore first
a mad man is reading the shores
of the sea on
a very insignificant moment of the day
the stones are writing novels
on the hot skins of the shores
people who pass me by are sparing me
of saying anything
and they refuse to look at me and give
that look
of that feeling that i must have been
one kind of
a wasted man
a child looks at me with pity
and asks, what are you doing with the pebbles?
are they speaking to you?
i am awakened by this vastness
sometimes to be found, i must experience being lost myself
in the secret labyrinths of
thought
the child is looking for play,
i do not have it.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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