En.Citatepedia^®.ro

Deserted Island

This island is deserted
It is very hot
like the desert
with tons of sand
only theres trees
the trees sway in the breeze
like a cool wind blowing through the village
the water matches the sky here
It's clear blue
you can see everything right down to the sand
under the forever going ocean
there's coral and bright colored fish
it's as warm as
the hot sand under my feet and the summer sun
the isolation is unbelievable
it is unspeakable
the only movement is of the ocean and the trees
there is only me
this island is deserted

poem by Kristen Otto
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Island In The Sand

You are walking across the desert,
under a hot blazing sun;
you eyes search the horizon
for an oasis somewhere.
Places of palm trees,
and a pool of cool water there,
a little island in the sand.

Finally you see something,
you run headlong towards it,
dive into the cool water.
This is what you think you see,
but you end up bathing in the hot sand,
it is only a mirage you see.

Love can also be,
very much like that,
island in the sand.
Once you get close,
it may also disappear.

14 June 2007

poem by David Harris
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Sand Island

The crisp cool wind is blowing in my face
Kenny G blowing “forever in love”
In my ears while trying to keep a pace
The blue, cloudless sky looming high above
Me only enhance my recurrent ride
To Sand Island, a very special place
Where all worldly problems are set aside
Awhile and “I” is the objective case
Yes! It’s all about me during this ride:
Pedaling, sightseeing and elation
These of which can not at all be denied
Me. Upon reaching my island mission
I’m Inspired enough for one more sonnet
About a special day I’ll not forget.

The meandering beaten path in front
Of me guides my way through a host of trees.
Some I identify but most I don’t
Have a clue as to their names. Just the breeze
In my face, the earth-colored foliage,
The fauna scampering in front of me,
And birds singing from branches, all upstage
My intruding presence. My mp3
Playing Kenny G songs along the way:
Love songs mostly but it doesn’t matter
I’m in love everyday, more so today.
I love god, wife and nature, all concur
And reciprocate. This is my heaven
In a very special place: Sand Island.

poem by Albert Ahearn
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In A Time Of Dearth

Before me,
On either side of me,
I see sand.
If I turn the corner of my house,
I see sand,
Long, brown
Lines and levels of flat
Sand.

If I could only see a caravan
Heave over the edge of it:
The camels wobbling and swaying,
Stepping like ostriches,
With rocking palanquins
Whose curtains conceal
Languors and faintnesses,
Muslins tossed aside,
And a disorder of cushions.
The swinging curtains would pique and solace me.
But I only see sand,
Long, brown sand -
Sand.

If I could only see a herd of Arab horses
Galloping,
Their manes and tails pulled straight
By the speed of their going;
Their bodies sleek and round
Like bellying sails.
They would beat the sand with their fore feet,
And scatter it with their hind feet,
So that it whirled in a cloud of orange,
And the sun through it
Was clip-edged, without rays, and dun.
But I only see sand,
Long, brown, hot sand -
Sand.

If I could only see a mirage,
Blue-white at the horizon,
With palm-trees about it;
Tall, windless palm-trees, grouped about a-glitter.
If I could strain toward it,
And think of the water creeping round my ankles,
Tickling under my knees,
Leeching up my sides,
Spreading over my back.
But I only feel the grinding beneath my feet.
And I only see sand,
Long, dry sand,
Scorching sand -
Sand.

If a sand-storm would only come
And spit against my windows,
Snapping upon them, and ringing their vibrations;
Swirling over the roof;
Seeping under the door-jamb;
Suffocating me and making me struggle for air.
But I only see sand -
Sand lying dead in the sun.
Lines and lines of sand -
Sand.

I will paste newspapers over the windows to shut out the sand;
I will fit them into one another, and fasten the corners.
Then I will strike matches
And read of politics and murders and festivals
Three years old.
But I shall not see the sand any more,
And I can read
While my matches last.

poem by Amy Lowell
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Island In The Sun

The palm trees sway
under a warm Mediterranean breeze
as we lay on a golden beach somewhere,
dreaming that you and I could be,
castaways on an island in the sun.
Blue waters kissing the beach
beneath our feet
as we walk hand in hand
in the sand at sunset time.
The world a million miles away,
never to bother us anymore.
What a lovely dream,
to be washed up on that shore,
you and I for evermore.

poem by David Harris
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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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A Camel's Dream

When he deserted me
I deserted water
When I deserted the water,
it lost its shine crying.
Trees were growing dark in their places
in the woods; that evening he came to take me
with him clearing the thick glow of the sunset hues
then came he to make a path a kind of road
At the end of the road
I became the back he can ride
deserting many things I so long have to long for
while I look at the village
through those green trees
with my deep eyes
I saw him waiving at me
to bid me goodbye.
I was already entering the desert
and a portion of his road became the whole
the entire road for me.
For the borders of the nation he ruled
were the horizons of the four directions,
the sand hills I walk on with him on my back
were always the initial spot I had departed.
Numerous mornings and evenings met
on the rooftops of the sandhills where the
next morning and the sun crossed.
Originally what he wanted from me
was some amount of water he could use,
always in the shape of the water
I obeyed him.
At the same speed as the sunlight speedy
falls on the ground, stars fell.
With the power of the star-falls
the water soaked itself down to the ground
and then to
the roots of the sands.
Whenever his forehead shined
with full of heavenly words
and thirstied,
I dug up the roots of the sands
where the water gathers and kept it
in my body.

When the sun rose,
everything except the sands were
under the power of the sun;
when the wind blew,
everything along with the sands were
under the windy flows.
There I took out the water from my body
and washed his dry face.
When he loved me
I had a large amount of waters.
When he was communicating with someone
in heavens,
I listened to the music the sands were making.
Many trees were there with no shadows,
and the worlds I look through those trees were
always moving forward.
Through those trees the wind blew.
The thicket-bushes were weeping
and there came about some animals
who loved the bushes, and the one
who rides on my back
lets things to be ruled ruled
lets things to die dead.
He stands the trees and the animals
that resemble each other on their spots
then he passes by.
In the mean time he took out the water
from my body numerous times
and drank it to cleanse his body.
His songs made the sand hills
create echoes to echo
to ring through the regions afar.

When he finally changed the desert into the sea,
at its open entrance
I began to grow old all alone.
Though I wanted to serve him on the sea
he walked away from me
onto the sea.
Many years have gone by
and come along and
for me not to serve him on the sea
meant to go back to the desert, and
the sea had turned into the desert back again.
At its entrance to the sea,
I could not become a small boat for him.
All day long, I was lonely;
all night long, lonesome for days.
When he left me, I deserted the water,
I deserted again the act of deserting
and by deserting it, I no longer was left
to exist.

poem by by unknown author (22 June 2003), translated by Sangnam Nam
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Dreams to Nightmares

I stare at the wall and close my eyes
I started to dream about parts of the world
Beaches to oceans to schools of fish
My dreams turn to nightmares after awhile

The cool, damp beach where sand comes to rest
The emptiness in the pastel blue sky
The sand placed perfectly in place
The smell of salt water against the shore

The crystal clear ocean calm as can be
The current not even moving sea life
Fish eating at the bottom by the sand
The sound of calm waves hitting the shore

The colorful fish ranging from green to blue
Fish from all different sizes
The sound of fish jumping out of the ocean
They swim without a government to follow

The beaches turn to cemeteries
The oceans turn dark gray, and fish floating dead
The sky black as can be with flashes of light
You wake up realizing life is so much different

poem by Kasondra Sytnik
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A Buddha, Or...

a buddha...
or just another homeless man,
standing on the corner
of the street going nowhere.
what do we hold in our hands
that will remain?
even daylight is swallowed by night,
and night disappears into the dawn.
and love in the end
is merely a moment given,
a grain of sand
on a deserted beach.
the trees shed their leaves
for the winter cleansing,
and so we lay our bodies
down into the earth's embrace!
o to be ocean,
filling the great chasms of history.
o to be mountain,
and bridge the earth to the sky.
o to be wind,
to come and go without restraint.
o to be fire,
to consume, and yet to give warmth!

and o to know,
that we are each and all,
that we are none and nothing.
both the falling star,
and the blackened sky...
and yes a grain of sand
beneath the traveller's feet,
the home that cannot be taken,
but is freely given!
and hands that have no need to hold!

poem by Eric Cockrell
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Leaving Behind

The water has moved away leaving behind sand
Total dry belt as if deserted by loving friend
Soon the sky may be lit up with sun shine
There may be complete transformation to make it fine

As the sun has moved up the sand has lost its wetness
The dry has been blown away by wind from its surface
It is quite difficult to make even foot prints
That reminds me of impending danger with little hint

Life has not remained steady with its movement
Sometimes up and sometimes down with no more changes to send
It has become static now and needs some drastic changes
Life has to disappear and trees to shed leaves with age

What to write about life when can't stand for a minute
Wind blows in and takes away making little noise to mute
Cam prevails there after as if nothing remains behind to recover

poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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Down On Longboat Key

She sits and stares out the window at the water
Every night down at ....Cafe'
All alone she sips her pina colada
Talking to herself, dreaming time away
The story is that a dark haired stranger
Stole her heart many years ago
He promised her he'd come back and take her
Around the world, bring her hills of gold
Chorus:
Down on Longboat Key
Where the island sand meet the Gulf Stream Bridge
Down on Longboat Key
She spends her life in a dream
On Longboat Key
Down on Longboat Key
Down on Longboat Key.
Each afternoon as the snugboats come in
She runs to meet them down at the pier
She sees the fishermen, the nets and the sunset
But she don't see him, her eyes fill with tears
She stands there looking at the crystal blue water
And in the coral she imagines pearls
She makes believe he brought them all the way from China
Then the water swirls
The blue-green water swirls
Chorus:
Down on Longboat Key
Where the island sand meet the Gulf Stream breeze
Down on Longboat Key
She spends her life in a dream
On Longboat Key
Down on Longboat Key
Down on Longboat Key.
Young sailors make a play to take her home
She says 'No, I'm already taken'
Oh, they just laugh when she mentions his name
She just keeps on waiting, waiting, waiting, waiting
Chorus:
Down on Longboat Key
Where the island sand meet the Gulf Stream breeze
Down on Longboat Key
She spends her life in a dream
On Longboat Key
Down on Longboat Key
Down on Longboat Key.

song performed by by Alabama
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Grain....

when life one dark night says
that it is tasteless and so bland like the air
the leaves of the mahogany trees hear it
and the following morning confide it with the
sea breeze
who tells it all to the sands who spread same story
to the waves of the shores
who deliver it to every desert in the sand
who keep all these in the heart of their
sacred solitude
and the wisdom stops in there
every dry sand of the desert
thrives upon this story
and sleeps so soundly.

'it is a fact and we are not surprised' the grain
of sand so proudly tell the others.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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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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The Boiling Water

A serious moment for the water is
when it boils
And though one usually regards it
merely as a convenience
To have the boiling water
available for bath or table
Occasionally there is someone
around who understands
The importance of this moment
for the water—maybe a saint,
Maybe a poet, maybe a crazy
man, or just someone
temporarily disturbed
With his mind 'floating'in a
sense, away from his deepest
Personal concerns to more
'unreal' things...

A serious moment for the island
is when its trees
Begin to give it shade, and
another is when the ocean
washes
Big heavy things against its side.
One walks around and looks at
the island
But not really at it, at what is on
it, and one thinks,
It must be serious, even, to be this
island, at all, here.
Since it is lying here exposed to
the whole sea. All its
Moments might be serious. It is
serious, in such windy weather,
to be a sail
Or an open window, or a feather
flying in the street...

Seriousness, how often I have
thought of seriousness
And how little I have understood
it, except this: serious is urgent
And it has to do with change. You
say to the water,
It's not necessary to boil now,
and you turn it off. It stops
Fidgeting. And starts to cool. You
put your hand in it
And say, The water isn't serious
any more. It has the potential,
However—that urgency to give
off bubbles, to
Change itself to steam. And the
wind,
When it becomes part of a
hurricane, blowing up the
beach
And the sand dunes can't keep it
away.
Fainting is one sign of
seriousness, crying is another.
Shuddering all over is another
one.

A serious moment for the
telephone is when it rings.
And a person answers, it is
Angelica, or is it you.

A serious moment for the fly is
when its wings
Are moving, and a serious
moment for the duck
Is when it swims, when it first
touches water, then spreads
Its smile upon the water...

A serious moment for the match
is when it burst into flame...

Serious for me that I met you, and
serious for you
That you met me, and that we do
not know
If we will ever be close to anyone
again. Serious the recognition
of the probability
That we will, although time
stretches terribly in
between...

poem by Kenneth Koch
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Ocean is as one with the world

As I Stare out into the Sea,
I can feel the soft oceans breeze
the warmth from the sun
the grass dances with the whistling wind
the ocean is filled with thoughts
and mysteries,
I feel the cool water
the ocean is alive filled with lost souls
washing emotions up onto the shore
My feet sink in the softness of the sand
The ocean is made up of dreams
and achievements,
My mind lies in the heart of the ocean
The rocks are bones
Out in the open the waves settle and
wait for their attack,
I feel as one with the ocean
as the ocean feels like one
with the world.

poem by Izabelle Sheridan
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Sand Blasting

Sand here, sand there.
Sand is mired everywhere.
It happened so quickly,
No time to think.
Shall I run for safety
or just sit tight?
and pray I'll make it
through the night.

Then came the roar,
the deafening sound.
Trees erupted
with the ocean abound.
Flooded towns.
No time to run
for higher ground.

Survival now comes to mind.
Power outage. You feel you're blind.
Morning comes. You look outside.
Recognition gone, no seaside.
Greif has come with no relief
You feel you're numb.
Sadness sets in. You ask God why?
No answer given. You wonder why?

Sand here, sand there.
You look around.
You become aware
That this can happen to anyone.
You see life differently.
There's no prodigal son.
We're all vulnerable,
Everyone.

poem by Edwina Reizer
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Working Metaphore

Work is like an island in an ocean of time
Landing on this shore felt like paradise
But the island is small and quickly grows boring
I am standing in the water, looking out as I work

Time passes in portions of half an hour
Wave upon wave of life slipping down the tide-line
I am deciding whether to let go and wash away with it
Or hold on and climb the beach again

How many islands are in this ocean?
I gaze out and see a few just waiting for me
Can I swim to them, will they take me?
In the water between them, is there love lurking?

Changes are on the horizon, as a tsunami
Rolling towards this island invisibly, towards me
None of the islands will survive it, I fear
Or maybe only I will be washed away into oblivion

Tick, splash, tick, splash, wave upon wave of half hours
Carrying me just a little further from the dry sand
Behind me, the managers are calling from the trees
I hesitate for a moment, and let the waves wash over me

Only a few more, and I can swim for a while,
I might ride the changes to a far away place if I'm swimming
In the water I can meet another, to drown my regrets of the last
The waves wash over me, and I wait for the tide to swim

poem by Poet Dragon
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Blessing In Disguise Romance Is...!

Hot Sun is burning the town;
But blue Sky clear everywhere,
A stretch of green trees along ways
Keep the eye cool to look at all!

Desert covered with sand everywhere,
No trees seen even after many miles,
Mirages giving false impression of water
Get cancelled once oasis is located!

Only continuous works going on nonstop
Making life monotonous with no relief at all,
And no time to eat and take rest well....get
Neutralized in sudden romance in-between gaps!

Romance in life is a great boon to forget crises
Though problems drag on endless in this world!

poem by Ramesh T A
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I Love You More

I love you I love you I love you
I love you I love you I love you
I love you I love you I love you
I love you I love you I love you
I love you more than there are ocean grains of sand
I love you more than there are voices in the wind
I love you so I cant let go
I love you so I want the whole wide world to know
Its not unusual to feel this way
Sometimes I feel a bit insane
I will confess I deserve nothing less than
What youve given me so far
I feel a high when I am by your side
My lifes so bright like summer skies
I dreamed so long to have someone like you
And now youre here with me
And it feels so good
1 I love you more than there are ocean grains of sand
It must be love if I feel this way
I love you more than there are voices in the wind
Only love makes me do these things
I love you so I cant let go
Now that I have you
I love you so I want the whole wide world to know
I always thought you were my soulmate
And extension of my heart
The angels say its a spiritual thing
We will never be apart
Thats why Im high when I am by your side
My lifes so bright like summer skies
I dreamed so long to have someone like you babe
And now youre here with me
And it feels so good ooh
Repeat 1
I love you more than all the ocean grains of sand
I love you more than all the voices in the wind
I love you so yeah
Never let you go
I love you so I want the world to know
I love you more than all the ocean grains of sand
I love you more than all the voices in the wind
I love you so
Never let you go
I love you so I want the world to know
I love you more than all the ocean grains of sand
I love you more than all the voices I hear in the wind
I love you so
Never letting go
I love you so I want the world to know
Ooh boy I love you so
24/7 it wont get old
Ooh boy I love you so
24/7 it wont get old
Ooh boy I love you so
24/7 it wont get old
Ooh boy I love you so
24/7 it wont get old

song performed by by En Vogue
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ocean Breeze

As I look out at the ocean
As I drive down the coast,
All I can see is a little bit of white and the rest nothing but blue,
Only thing that this scene can bring is nothing bad, but to boast.

By this bringing nothing, but the deep beauty to me and you.
Enjoying everything such as the white waves crashing into the rocks at the ocean,
And feeling the Ocean Breeze as it shot past us further than anything else can reach.
This is when all you can hear is nothing but water as it is motion.

Causing me to want get out of the car and walk down on the beach,
And to the foam builds up as the wave starts to hits its crest.
As the beach sand stuck to the bottom of my feet,
Or as I stopped and dug down in the sand to search for that sunken treasure chest.

Feeling that wave
Or as it knocked you over down on your seat.
This something that a lot of people will never hear or see.
And this is why the Ocean Breeze and Scene means so much me
By Frank Pulver

poem by Frank Pulver
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By The Ocean (For Dislocated Heart)

I stand by the ocean,
Breathing in the crisp air of night fall,
Watching the moon slipping away,
As the sky melts into the sea;
An endless darkness.
I can feel my mind falling into its depths,
Thinking about every breath I take,
About the world above,
And the world below.
Questions fill my mind,
Questions of life, living, and existence,
Yet still I stand,
Silent and still.
The gentle breeze in the palm trees,
Brushing my hair across my face.
The wind pushes my dress against my legs,
The feeling almost mimicking that of the water.
I can feel the cool spray of the ocean with each wave,
A giant lung breathing the same air as I.
It is a calm entity existing to exist.
A world so unknown and full of wonder,
Yet so simple from above…
I breath a sigh and close my eyes,
The sight of the waves imprinted on my eyelids,
The scent filling my nose and mouth,
The water touching my skin,
The taste of the salt on my tongue,
The repetitive sound of the water endlessly fill my mind.
My feet buried in sand as if to be innocent sand crabs.
A moment so calm and simple,
Yet so meaningful,
If you take the time to experience it,
A moment in which nothing else matters,
Nothing but the water, the sand, and living.
Everything else, like the sky,
Melts away into the sea,
Into the endless dark abyss.
And so I stand,
By the water,
Living and breathing.
If only the world would stop for a moment,
A moment to live and breathe too;
So relaxing and yet so eye opening.
The silence of the night wrapping around me,
The ocean rocking me into sweet oblivion.
Until I have to open my eyes and walk inside,
Back to reality,
But until then,
I'll just stand here,
By the ocean.

poem by Bethany Maxwell
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