Standing on the beach
The sand gets sucked away
From under ones feet
haiku by Leonard Daranjo
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Beach
Sitting on the beach with my feet in the sand
Letting the song of the ocean clear my mind of ever thing
Sitting on the beach with my feet in the sand
Watching the surfers chase the perfect wave
Sitting on the beach with my feet in the sand
Watching the sun set on yet another perfect day
poem by Ron St Jean
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Down to the beach
Down to the beach
Down to the beach
On a sunny day we go
Beach bags packed with sun screen lotions
Hands rubbing people’s backs in slow motion
Glistening oily bodies radiating with sensation
Down to the beach
Down to the beach
Where a chilly sea breeze blows
Let’s have some fun
In the red-hot sun
Down to the beach
Only there the ladies reveal saucy behinds
Whenever the raging sun is still kind
Down to the beach
As never-ceasing waves play across the shores
People happily play dreading any rainy downpour
Down to the beach
Where young lovers closely nestle
As sand creatures cause the sand to bristle
Seagulls gliding in the air with screams and whistles
Kids picking up shells and building stormy sand castles
Down to the beach
Where mostly good vibes flow
Down to the beach
We go whilst there is still sun without snow
poem by Sylvia Chidi
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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.'
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.'
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.'
Lucinda
We met one summer evening
As the sun was going down
She was lying on the beach
In her graduation gown
She was wrapped up in a blanket
(I could tell she knew her way around)
And as I lay down beside her
You know she never made a sound
On down the beach came the beach-cleaning man
Scoopin up the papers and flattening down the sand
Lucinda, lucinda, lucinda - weve got to run away
That big white truck is closin in
And well get wounded if we stay
Now lucinda lies buried neath the california sand
Put under by the beach-cleaning man
Lucinda, lucinda, lucinda - whyd you have to go?
They sent her to high school
They sent her to low school
She just wouldnt go further
song performed by by Randy Newman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Last Split Second
Sometimes in the heat of despair
we lost sight of perspective
It bends and curves and distorts
Like light round a black hole
and what we think of as truth is wildy out of proportion
yes the grains of truth are there running through the narrow waist of our preception
but each individual speck is not the beach, the beach is more than grains of sand
is this your last split second? will you spend it looking at a grain of sand or at the beach?
poem by Jilted BUTTERFLY
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Echoes of The Past
Echoes of your laughter
springs into my ears
another time and place
holding you so close
a smile upon your face
strolling on the beach
sand beneath our feet
watching the tide
ride upon the beach
hearts were so innocent
and sweet
wait until tomorrow
when life is complete.
poem by Heather Burns
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Killing An Arab
Standing on the beach
With a gun in my hand
Staring at the sea
Staring at the sand
Staring down the barrel
At the arab on the ground
I can see his open mouth
But i hear no sound
I'm alive
I'm dead
I'm the stranger
Killing an arab
I can turn
And walk away
Or i can fire the gun
Staring at the sky
Staring at the sun
Whichever i chose
It amounts to the same
Absolutely nothing
I'm alive
I'm dead
I'm the stranger
Killing an arab
I feel the steel butt jump
Smooth in my hand
Staring at the sea
Staring at the sand
Staring at myself
Reflected in the eyes
Of the dead man on the beach
The dead man on the beach
I'm alive
I'm dead
I'm the stranger
Killing an arab
song performed by by Cure
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Killing An Arab (live)
Standing on a beach
With a gun in my hand
Staring at the sea
Staring at the sand
Staring down the barrel
At the arab on the ground
See his open mouth
But hear no sound
I'm alive
I'm dead
I'm the stranger
Killing an arab
I can turn and walk away
Or I can fire the gun
Staring at the sky
Staring at the sun
Whichever I choose
It amounts to the same
Absolutely nothing
I'm alive
I'm dead
I'm the stranger
Killing an arab
Feel the steel butt jump
Smooth in my hand
Staring at the sea
Staring at the sand
Staring at myself
Reflected in the eyes of
The dead man on the beach
The dead man
On the beach
I'm alive
I'm dead
I'm the stranger
Killing an arab
song performed by by Cure
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Pigeons
ODALISQUES, odalisques,
Treading the pavement
With feet pomegranate-stained:
We bartered for, bought you
Back in the years
Ah, then we knew you,
Odalisques, odalisques,
Treading the pavement
With feet pomegranate-stained!
Queens of the air
Aithra, lole,
Eos and Auge,
Taking new beauty
From the sun's evening brightness,
Gyring in light
As nymphs play in waters
Aithra, lole,
Eos and Auge!
Then down on our doorsteps,
Gretchen and Dora. . . .
II
Pigeons that have flown down from the courts behind the orchards! Pigeons that run along the beach to take sand into your crops! What contrast is between you, birds of a rare stock, and the waves that know only the buccaneer sea-gulls and the sand-marten emigrants! And what contrast is between your momentary wildness here and your graces in the courtyards beyond the orchards!
You rise up and fly out five wave lengths from the beach. And now a strange element is under you the green, tumbling, untried sea. With that half-remembered element below you, you think, maybe, of rocky breeding-places and strong mates. Bravely
you hang above the untried, alluring sea just five wave-lengths out!
You remind us of the ladies who came down to the gypsy carts that were on the beach yesterday, and swore they would take to the gypsy ways!
And now you run along by the waves, taking more grains of sand into your crops!
A wave-break startles you. You take to your wings again. Now you see the dove-cotes beyond the orchards, and you fly towards them.
And all night long you will hear the sea breaking, and you will dream, maybe, in the dove-cotes, of strong mates and rocky breeding places.
At dawn you will fly down to the beach again, run along the hard sand, take grains into your crops, and fly five wavelengths
from the beach.
The sand-martens will have left their holes, and you will see them gathered in flocks on the sand-heights, the dusky gypsies.
And you will not notice when they have departed, going without after-thoughts, going over that green, alluring element, the sea.
Pigeons that run along the beach, taking sand into your crops!
poem by Padraic Colum
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Standing on The Beach
Standing On The Beach
We are standing on the beach
Watching the sunset slowly go down
With this slow blowing breeze
and waves rolling across our feet
With you standing so ever close
You in front and me just behind
With our hands so ever inter twined
With your hair blowing in my face
It smelling so ever saccharine
I loosen one hand reach up
And pull your hair aside
Then I lean my head so ever slightly
Towards your sweet smell neck
Then I begin to lightly kiss it
from top to bottom
I can notice the chill bumps
Across your exposed skin
You moan so ever slightly
As to give your approval
You softly curse my head
As to want me to continue
This so ever lightly kissing of the neck
poem by Scott Austin
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A Bright Sky
I walk down the beach in the beaming sun,
My feet sink into the sand, gently,
My hair is swept backwards as the warm breeze hits it,
Suddenly I turn around and everything is opposite,
My hair is swept backwards as the cool breeze hits it,
I feel as though I walk above the sand,
And I walk back down the beach in the night,
I look up and all I can see is darkness,
The night sky is lit by the moon and the stars,
It’s a bright sky.
poem by Sophie Shaw
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Beach
As I walk along the deserted beach
I feel the damp sand surronding my feet
I feel the cool relaxing breeze creep up upon me with ease
As I look out at the restless waves my thoughts unwind like restless days
The beach is a very quiet and calming place
poem by Shiny Shine
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Sandy Thoughts
'Ride this wave with me and know,
That every wave leads to a beach
But every beach is different.
The beach I seek is one where
The sand fits perfectly between my toes
Like your fingers between my hand.
Where the water embraces my skin in warmth,
To remind me how it feels to hold you.
A beach where me and you are the only ones,
To let you know, you are my only one.
I am not afraid of where this wave will take us,
I am afraid that you and I will never see the beach I seek.
That when I look back and think, what could have been,
Should have been, will never be.'
poem by Vinh Nguyen
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To Beach or Not To Beach
The beach, for some a burst of bravado,
for others a bath of brilliance.
Sand-coated with lotion and encompassed with cellulite,
I enviously gaze around me.
Bikini bronzed bodies swarm the beach,
while children are amused with sand-castles and beach balls.
Invading music blares from the neighbouring umbrellas,
and with a headache developing,
I cringingly approach the waves.
Mulitcoloured surfboards ride the towering waves,
and currently joined by eager faces,
we duck and dive in time to each wave.
For a cure to the killer salt in one’s mouth.,
I recommend the common beach ice cream
and armed with my overflowing towel,
I retreat for the day.
A fiery sunset is the perfect ending for any beach experience.
as footprints are imprinted on the moist sea sand,
some will experience feelings of tranquil peace,
Others, feelings of physical pain…
poem by Margaret Purslow
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Sand On My Shoes
As I sit by the sea
Drink tequila by the shade of a tree
Theres a seniorita sat on my knee
Sprinkling sand all over me
Ive got sand on my shoes
Ive lost everything that Im gonna lose
Ive got nothing but the sun and the moon
And the sand thats on the beach
I am happy though my shoes are tattered and torn
Because the sea is so shiney
Ba ba-um-ba
Ba ba ba ba ba ba ba ba-um-ba
Ive got sand on my shoes
Thought I was civilized
Till I saw the sea and I realized
That the city life was just not for me
Left my troubles behind me
Ba ba-um-ba
Ba ba ba ba ba ba ba ba-um-ba
Ive got sand on my shoes
Ive got nothing else that Im gonna lose
Ive got nothing but the sun and the moon
And thats plenty for me
Ive got sand on my shoes
Ive got sand on my shoes
Ive got sand on my shoes
Sand on my shoes
Ba ba ba ba-um-ba
Ba ba ba ba ba ba ba ba-um-ba
song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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We walked on the beach
We walked on the beach
my shadow and I.
Rocks protruded
out of the sand
and a big ship passed by.
The tide was high
and the angry sea crashed
and slapped spray
upon the rocks.
a Strong wind scratched
me with buckets full of sand
and I wondered what had happened
to a perfect day at the beach,
but later the wind died down.
a Single gull surfed the air
and suddenly it wasn’t there
and only the green sea,
the white-hot sun,
surf crashing on the beach
and I remained.
poem by Gert Strydom
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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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