Beach

July 15, 2013

That perplexing blue
Knocks the air out of you
just by looking
Makes you breathe in
Salt foams
Feeling grand
yet shrunken
listening
to the tossing clap of the waves

Waves like mountains
with crevices and steeps
Like the crests of horses running,

As each peak subsides
Red buoys appear
Bobbing and dipping
never staying still

Water spews like fountains
with upwards slopes and slides

The little house
on the hill top
Built well away from the tides

of creaking woods and rusting nails

Grass blowing in the breeze tickling my knees Perceiving a manifesting sea

Shipping and sinking hopes or desires or gold-filled chests of admiration.

The basin sits below restlessly turning thousands of miles reflecting the sky, & everything above it

never ceasing to amaze those who love it.

As you listen to the roars go distant
as the moon relaxes in tranquillity
you sit and ponder the wisdom that comes to mind
that it all will last for a short time

Something wrong with this poem?

Replies are closed for this poem.

Your Poem's Voice

See what makes your poem unique — its voice, energy, themes, and the literary traditions it draws from.

Comments (3)

QVAug 1, 2013

It is hard to bring forth the vision of perfection in our minds, but there comes a point when we realize we have reached the limits. Thank you again for taking the time to read my pieces :) Q.V.

EunoiaJul 30, 2013

Yeah, I find the I bounce around a lot. I like this poem, though it still isn't satisfying me. oh weell.haha, i like that! I will use that term as well! Thanks!

QVJul 24, 2013

I had a chance to glance through your earlier pieces, and I came back to this one because of the experimental form (and frankly it is much more liberated than the previous works). I have remark on the little time it took for you to develop as a poet, from what I call "Love is Pain" poetry (questions, imaginary dialogue, longing, etc.) to raw imagery. In other words, from raw emotions to raw imagery (much more effective and open to interpretation than telling your audience how to feel). The watery and surreal picture you painted (yes painted) is reminiscent of a poem I read by W.H. Auden called "On This Island", this does not mean you sound like Auden (poets should have their own voices), but simply, it is a charming poem. Q.V.