Hour One
Take a dip but
don’t make a splash
Tread lightly and
let the waves crash
Over you.
Let the chaos
make you calm
And the roaring
be a balm
For your soul.
Hour 1- The Temp-ress
She summoned the wave to her vicinage,
Purely with the strength of the soul,
The tide obeying her like she was the moon,
A tempest slowly gathering around her.
A smile on her face as she played with the current,
Testing its limits as she tested her own,
“You will always be with me, won’t you?”, she crooned,
Her hand cupping the brine dripping out.
“The ocean is my friend, and me, her slave.
I am only a reflection of the light each drop holds.”
She ruled the currents of the ocean with her power,
Yet she knew it could break rope and wood to smithereens.
“It is why”, she said as she stepped on the beach, barefoot,
“I surrender myself before I can conquer.
For how will the ocean reject a gift of bone and sinew?”
She stepped into its fore and the ocean, oh, she took her in.
Note: The title is a play on the words ‘tempest’ and ‘temptress’, owing to the protagonist looking to tempt the ocean into taking her in when she rejects everyone and everything else.
Side note for the people who are still here: Just this morning in the beach I asked the ocean to come say hi and it miraculously did.
But What About The Raindrops?
Write a poem about being in water. It can be about swimming, the shower, a bath, the rain, etc.
On my bucket list
Is an item or two
That has to do with water
Shall I share them with you?
A walk-in bathtub
Sitting upright with water all around
How comforting that would be
But not over my head, lest I drown.
An outdoor jacuzzi
With the sun shining bright
Or the moon in its stages
Watching as in the water I delight.
The ocean I long to see
I can hear the waves call out my name
But to get there takes over six hours
That is such a shame!
Sitting by the river
Especially as the sun begins to set
Brings me peace when I am still
Upon this I shall reflect.
The waterfalls I visit
Allow me to see that even as my thoughts cannot be contained and often overflow with a crash
That doesn’t mean there isn’t tranquility found within them
Guess that explains beauty from the ash.
In the desert
Months elapse without rain and
the sun blazes over us,
unrelenting.
The air is dense and
crackling dry.
We search the sky for clouds,
for any hope of change, but
the deep blue is
painfully endless.
Birds huddle in shady patches
in the sand, their beaks open,
their songs muted.
Coyotes lope through
the ominous dawn,
their ribs showing.
We gather inside
in sterile rooms,
air conditioners blowing,
and we watch shows about
Norway and Sweden where
snows drift high and waterfalls thunder,
where rain
is plentiful and
sustaining.
Hour 1- Sapling
The sapling in my head withers
from heat and I radiate its fatal fever-
the way bodies are so hot and then cold.
Sometimes the mind’s heat versifies
and at times it overwhelms
one with a need to turn all things cold.
#1
There is nothing like the morning dew, so I grab my coffee and put on my shoes, my lover she’s waiting for me across the yard and into the garden. She shows me all the pretty flowers born from her labor of love and at night we gaze upon them while looking at the stars above.
Hour One: Surrender
Surrender (Hour One)
The wave crests and crashes
down upon me
crushing me in its curl
and I am engulfed,
immersed,
overwhelmed by its strength,
unable to emerge
unable to call out
unable to surface
unable to breathe,
churning
twirling
tossed to and fro.
No sound save
a muffled burbling,
as if in a dream,
a bubbling,
the sucking of water,
a seething power
surrounding me
and I am helpless.
Storm-tossed like the shells
that scratch my skin,
scraping along the seabed.
swirling, swirling,
endlessly it seems
my lungs should burst for want of air
until at last
I am tossed up,
spewed out,
surrendered as the surf recedes
gasping, sputtering,
draining water from every orifice,
like a beached whale
upon the sand.
Write a poem about being in water. It can be about swimming, the shower, a bath, the rain, etc.
The Seashell – Hour One
I took my baby to the beach
I walked her to the water
A million seashells in our reach
A day for Mom and daughter
A moment that had harkened back
To days spent in my youth
My Dad and I had quite the knack
Of finding hope and truth
How does one find but truth and hope
Within a simple shell
Well each one has the means to cope
Amid each ocean swell
A story that one can all but guess
That brought it here this day
But one I stand here to profess
Is profound in its way
Up against the ocean’s odds
The shell has bounced along
Its fate left only to the gods
Amid the currents’ strong
Yet here it stands within our hands
So perfect and pristine
Upon arrival to the lands
On water, crystalline
I took my daughter to the beach
A day of summer fun
Fond memories within my reach
Beneath the summer sun
For not just searching for the shells
But stopping to think too
Despite the many ocean swells
The seashell made it through
The day became a blessing
For my daughter to recall
The shell is but a lesson
Of survival for us all
A symbol of the will and might
We all hold deep inside
That carries us past every plight
To reach our shores in stride
Esli
I already dreamed that this happened
And now, it’s happening again
Not a dream that you’d want to have, a dream of quite literally doing the dishes
The problem arises when you set birds for your alarm clock
It would be nice to even have a nightmare again
But if wishes were horses/
And globes were square/
And beggars could ride/
And a lie warn’t a lie/
I’ll have to try again tomorrow
(Hour 01) 10.30-11.30pm. IMAGE PROMPT: spiky sculpture in snow
(Hour 01) 10.30-11.30pm. IMAGE PROMPT: spiky sculpture in snow
nuerons
that’s the third : spiky structure i’ve seen : slowly floating past : ominous : misshapen oversized Soviet-era crown : metal neuron : cold steel-like structure : somehow sucking in light & not letting go : defying all the physics i know
not sure how they move : what propulsion system they use : technology well beyond my ken : & though i’d love to find out : i’m not stupid enough : yet : to approach one : something in me : aches to know more
being close to a mystery : & not knowing is agony : even if that knowledge : most likely : has the potential : express purpose even : of obliterating : us