Sea
The roaring sea
on a summer afternoon
the sun burning brightly
upon the desert dunes;
the shimmering waves and heat
of the burning sand under the feet;
the increasing humidity in
the air, the dripping sweat
on the sun burnt skin.
The ebb and flow
of waves brings crabs, shells
and carcass of small birds or so;
at their return, destroys the small
sand castles of children though.
In this sea of life
with no defined shore, torn between modern life
and goals, quest for
unending desires and ambitions
burdening the hearts and souls replete
with never ending situations.
The ground under the feet
seems shaken,
depression and loneliness
are eternally taken
We, being victims of answerless
destiny and fate,
what holds for us being hidden,
beams of hope appear straight
beyond the horizon.
Copyright©2011Rizvana Parveen
poem by Rizvana Parveen
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Related quotes
Quest
What am I looking for?
What am I searching for?
What quest is this, I know not?
Where does this path lead to?
Where is my destination?
What quest is this, I know not?
Is my quest worth it?
Or is it just a pursuit for
some goal or purpose?
Or is it an exploration of
the journey called life?
Or is it a crusade for
meeting with the Lord?
What quest is this, I know not?
Copyright©2011Rizvana Parveen
poem by Rizvana Parveen
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Where They Sat
This is where they sat
and watched the sea
and incoming tide.
Now he has gone.
The waves still come
in and go out regardless.
The sunset brings memories.
The way the sun sits on
the horizon like a Buddha
clothed in a red gown.
He held her hand on
these sands. They kissed
beneath that sun the warmth
like an embrace. It was
here that he spoke of love
and their future and the house
and maybe their children
running in and out of the garden
on summer days. She holds
a handful of sand. Squeezes
between fingers. Gulls fly overhead
making an awful din. If she
closes her eyes she can imagine
him still there. Almost smell
his presence. She sniffs the air.
Sea salt and after sun lotion.
His body shining with sweat
after making love up there
by the rocks. Children and
parents and others enjoy
the sea and beach nearby.
He said so many things.
They are still in the air.
The words about her head
like invisible birds. Then came
the suicide. The final note.
Out at sea some one waves
To her from a small white boat.
poem by Terry Collett
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People Who Live
People who live by the sea
understand eternity.
They copy the curves of the waves,
their hearts beat with the tides,
& the saltiness of their blood
corresponds with the sea.
They know that the house of flesh
is only a sandcastle
built on the shore,
that skin breaks
under the waves
like sand under the soles
of the first walker on the beach
when the tide recedes.
Each of us walks there once,
watching the bubbles
rise up through the sand
like ascending souls,
tracing the line of the foam,
drawing our index fingers
along the horizon
pointing home.
poem by Erica Jong
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There Is Always A Resolution
the conflicts are the
sand castles
they won't last that
long with the
waves
leveling everything
to the shore
the waves take
what is due
them
the sand castles give
way
and then there is peace
a blank piece
a tabula rasa
that nature offers
to the mind
persistent
on the truth
the open space
the freedom of the
air
the pigeons
moving home
to roost
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Fate or Destiny
Fate or Destiny
Is it fate or destiny that brings your smile for me to see?
Is it fate or destiny that brings us together as we hold hands?
Is it fate or destiny that brings our hearts as a union as one?
Is it fate or destiny that brings our stormy seas to rest upon the shore?
Is it fate or destiny that builds a lasting relationship, never to fall?
Is it fate or destiny that brings us close beyond the horizon of a sunny day?
poem by Sharon Kubeck
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Children on the Beach
Most children love to build
Sand-castles on the beach;
And pretty seriously,
They work for such long hours!
Some also draw and write,
By finger on wet soil;
How well they imagine,
And work like artistes fine!
Yet, they are innocent;
They do not know the sea;
The water-waves that come
Wash off their labored tasks.
They never realize
That sand can’t stand for long,
In sun, rain or sea-waves;
‘The foundation isn’t strong! ’
Some do it just for joy;
Some hearts are broken fast;
Some jump with angry feet
–Their toil gone all awaste!
Adults do similar things,
Although, they are aware;
They build castles in air,
And write upon water!
Are not adults stupid
To work with dangers nigh?
And build such flimsy things
That easily gets destroyed!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 5-10-2008
poem by John Celes
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On The Dunes
Drive along the sea
Far from the citys twitch and smoke
To a misty beach
Thats where my life became a joke
On the dunes
On the dunes
(became a joke on the dunes)
Where rents are high
And seabirds cry
On the dunes
As you spoke you must have known
It was a kind of homicide
I stood and watched my happiness
Drift outwards with the tide
On the dunes
On the dunes
(homicide on the dunes)
It wasnt fair
Its brutal there
On the dunes
Pretty boats
Sweeping along the shore
In the faltering light
Pretty women
With their lovers by their side
Its like an awful dream
I have most every night
In the summer all the swells
Join in the search for sun and sand
For me its just a joyless place
Where this loneliness began
On the dunes
On the dunes
(loneliness on the dunes)
Im pretty tough
But the wind is rough
On the dunes
song performed by by Steely Dan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Burning Feet
No standing with these burning feet
I got to kill the the fire
Got to kill the heat
I see a road and a river
I gotta go
'cos there's fire in my shoes
And you're moving too slow
For these burning feet
I got to move
Burning feet
Need a cool groove
Burning feet
Win or lose
Looking to kill the heat
Oh these burning shoes
One day they'll find me in pieces,
By the side of the track
Smoke trail behind me,
Flames from my back
This is what made me,
Yeah how I was made
Forever, in the heat
And never in the shade
Of these burning feet
Burning feet
I got to move
Burning feet
Need a cool groove
Burning feet
Win or lose
Looking to kill the heat
Oh these burning shoes
song performed by by Chris Rea
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Smoking
Burning desires,
Burning face,
Burning eyes,
Burning lungs,
Burning heart,
Burning existence,
Burning world,
Everything is burning and burning.
Fire can never soothe a burning mind,
It will burn more and more
And reduce to ashes
Thy wishes,
Thy ambitions,
Thy vivacity,
And even thy life
Thy ruin is imminent.
poem by Mohammad Akmal Nazir
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Grains of Sand
Rolling in receding back
I watch the ocean’s waves.
Wondering what do they bring
or take away.
Reaching to my feet
some sand I scoop.
Through my fingers
those tiny grains flow.
Some so smooth
as if their journey long.
Others jagged sharp.
Had they not traveled far?
I muse to myself
What tales could they tell?
Relating their travels
carried by the seas.
if any what secrets
might they hide?
Tragedies triumphs
fair seas and foul.
Had they witnessed
great things and small?
As my mind wandered
imagination followed.
Again the waves roll in.
Now the sand is gone.
That sand I held
taken away.
Where will the seas
carry those grains?
On what other shores
will they a visit pay?
poem by Kurt Hearth
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0332 How were they to know?
Yes, how were they to know,
searching in the heat of forenoon dunes,
those high hills of sand
where once the forests grew,
now a rhythm of burnt sunned, cool shadowed, mock horizons,
- they, searching for the camel which had strayed -
and finding there, a man sitting still, cross-legged
in the sand upon a small strip
of faded coloured carpet,
palm of hand crossed in palm of hand,
and in the palm of his upraised right hand,
one grain of sand
and who, as they approached,
did not shift his gaze from that one grain;
and yet they sensed that he sensed them;
better let him be, he knows what he’s about,
or if he’s mad, at least he’s quietly purposeful…
how were they to know
that as he gazed, the universe he saw
in that one grain of sand then
grew inside of him? till it filled itself,
like a sand-clock, as the last grain
falls from the upper to
the lower, and all is still again
as measured time stops still
amid the sands of time?
how were they to know
as that small figure against the desert sand
his cloak still burning to the touch,
returned to the oasis, as the red-hot sun
sank below the dramatic shadow of the furthest dune,
and later, sitting by the green palms and papyrus reeds,
the camels head down, humped around the welcome pool,
one child, then many children,
then grown men, asked him their questions;
and the answers, as the night folded in
below more stars than anyone could count,
drew the circle of cross-legged silent listeners
- occasionally, urgent voiced with a lifetime’s pressing question -
as if some grain of sand became in their mind too
totality; the universe.
poem by Michael Shepherd
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The Old Women Of The Ocean
To the solemn sea the old women come
With their shawls knotted around their necks
With their fragile feet cracking.
They sit down alone on the shore
Without moving their eyes or their hands
Without changing the clouds or the silence.
The obscene sea breaks and claws
Rushes downhill trumpeting
Shakes its bull's beard.
The gentle old ladies seated
As if in a transparent boat
They look at the terrorist waves.
Where will they go and where have they been?
They come from every corner
They come from our own lives.
Now they have the ocean
The cold and burning emptiness
The solitude full of flames.
They come from all the pasts
From houses which were fragrant
From burnt-up evenings.
They look, or don't look, at the sea
With their walking sticks they draw signs in the sand
And the sea erases their calligraphy.
The old women get up and go away
With their fragile bird feet
While the waves flood in
Traveling naked in the wind.
poem by Pablo Neruda
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Just Wait
the desert does not end
as a desert per se
beyond these faceless sand dunes
there is always a shore
where our feet can taste
the sea again
beyond the sea is another
sunless horizon
a cool evening
a breezy affair
another conversation of
two lonely people
converging again
remembering what once
was an island
a lagoon with parakeets
coconut trees
and free flowing falls
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Devil Music
They called him 'master'...
When he came.
To take them from the comfort of their homes.
Stripped of treasures,
And their names.
With nothing they could say,
And silent broken hope!
Forced to worship,
Strange deities.
And folks who treated them
Like they were beasts.
Some tried to flee,
The increasing heat.
But many found themselves soon in defeat.
The blazing burned their feet.
And the ones who ran were chased like enemies.
This fire...
It kept on burning!
Burning, burning, burning...
Out of control.
The 'master'...
Desired this fire.
To burn, burn, burn
Out of control!
Morning, noon and night
They'd call him devil.
And sang the music to him that he loved.
They would dance.
And together clap their hands.
This devil music kept them in a hold!
Yes,
The fire...
It kept on burning.
Burning, burning, burning...
Out of control.
The 'master'...
He kept the fire.
Burning, burning, burning
Out of control.
Yes this fire,
It kept on burning!
Burning, burning, burning
Out of control.
I said the fire...
It still keeps burning!
And it's blazing in a rage,
That's out of control!
The spreading flame...
Became higher.
So high it fixed in young minds,
Sold by the old!
Yes,
The fire...
It kept on burning.
Burning, burning, burning...
Out of control.
The 'master'...
He kept the fire.
Burning, burning, burning
Out of control.
Burning, burning, burning
Out of control.
Burning, burning, burrrrrnin...
Out of contrrroooool.
'ssssyesssss...
Children! '
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Dunes
oh! man. remember the day when you are born, the sky that
twinkle in your eyes, as the sea breeze, in the dunes of sand,
tranquil, in the luminous pavement of water beneath your
mother's tear
you have chatter the fears of death, of which the stings of pain,
labour in the weary sweat of your father hand has come to sprout
like orchards green of graves in the blue sky in your mother
dream
a dunes, that whisper the cool olive oil in the green leaves of
summer in the meadow of oasis of desert from the storm in the,
night of the skies, waiting to capture the smiling faces of your
loved father and mother cribs
like a cheddar, full of tasted cream of cheese, in every tongue,
awaits to capture the aroma of judgment in our hearts, so
especial, that every wind calls our spirit to mingle every direction
it brings
each pieces of sand, leads us to a place, where the emptied
soul, find its meaning of being one in the darkness of uncertainty
a call for, to follow the segment of our life in the course of nature
tranquility
life is what we make it, a wind that redirect us to focus ourselves,
the dunes of where we have to follow, where the cooled wind,
will brings to the sea of life everlasting
' let the dunes be, a dunes to other in the great blue ocean of God'
l
poem by Antonio Liao
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Sea.
The sea sent the sloshing waves,
To kiss my feet, legs, body and face,
Loving me as always as I approaches,
It's caress so soothing
Like the fingers of a woman,
The waves mischieveously
Taking away the sand
From under my feet,
Making me loose my balace,
Like the way one feels at times,
In real life, the sea watching
My imbalanced dance,
Gurgling all th way, with asound
In the wind, singing relentlessly,
As if to tell me to be happy,
All the time, all my life,
Till I left the sea shore,
With a heaviness of spearation,
The sea smiling it away like always.
poem by Ravikiran Arakkal
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Beach Life....
I sat on the wall and just.
Watched
My mind and eyes danced to the fore
Shore
Waves of seas and souls who pranced
Jubilant
Was my expression
As impressionistic imprints imbedded in
Mind and sand and sea
Buckets of love and sand ebbed and flowed
Feathers flew, fled, fought for disregarded chips
And lay also
Lay as unwanted knickers on the tangerine sand
It was a knickerbocker glorious day
Of ice-cream cones and cream clad skin
Of towels, flip-flops
Bunny hops
Sandy hands and castles
Surrounded by murky, frothy, salted streams
For once the sky held little
Importance as
I was far to distracted by
Life
...............thank you for reading..........
poem by Karen Sinclair
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What we are...
Two souls separated by a distance
Two hearts engaged with their own lives
Two spirits misplaced in each own horizon
Two people shackled by their own destiny
That’s what we are…
Love was introduced breaking the distance
Hope brings together the different lives
Faith binds two souls together in one horizon
Candles of passion burns the written destiny
That’s what we are…
Only time can tell and erase the distance
An eternal flame will burn the rest of our lives
Burning intensity you can see across the horizon
The scars of love and tenderness will rewrite destiny
That’s what we are…
poem by Kay Barcelon
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Burning Heat
Burning in my heart- burning in my soul
Gotta have it more and more- hot and overloaded
Starving for some fun tonight- always dressed to kill
Dont tell me what I need- I need the thrill indeed
Dont stop me now
Ill run you over- bastard
Get out of my way
I feel mighty great
Burning heat- gets me- burning heat
Burning heat- breaks me- burning heat
Cant you see it coming- stronger than a bull
Get yourself going- youre too easy to beat
Dont forget Im strong- powerful and straight
I can take you on cause I am hard to break
Dont stop me now
Ill run you over- bastard
Get out of my way
I feel mighty great
Burning heat- gets me- burning heat
Burning heat- breaks me- burning heat
Burning heat- gets me- burning heat
Burning heat- breaks me- burning heat
Burning heat- leads me- burning heat
Burning heat- feeds me- burning heat
Burning in my heart- burning in my soul
Gotta have it more and more- hot and overloaded
Burning heat- gets me- burning heat
Burning heat- breaks me- burning heat
Burning heat- leads me- burning heat
Burning heat- feeds me- burning heat
song performed by by U. D. O.
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Memories of Summers Spent
For Faizil
I remember the sand dunes of Aniston
Eastwards on the south of the Western Cape coast
The blue skies hanging over
Illuminated by the burning sun
Within the sand dunes concealed
Lies the bones of shipwrecked sailors of yesteryear
Contrast of desert and ocean
Like two dimension woven in one
Dwarfed by the sands of time
I remember how we raced to the top of the dunes
Breathless without thought
Just the absolute carefree bliss of being children
The race down was a running and a tumbling
Our summers spent camping at Arniston
When finally at the bottom, we would lay exhausted
Panting, catching our breath
poem by Persian Khushi
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