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As I stand with my feet in the ocean,
and look at the setting sun,
I think of how many me's,
have stood in how many seas,
but always stared at the same one.

A snapshot of scenes in the movie of me,
at various times of my being.
A new version of me every single time;
the same star I'm always seeing.

It fills me with curious wonder,
for the places that I may go;
And the life that has yet to happen,
and the things I have yet to know.

Jess

Poetry Theme(s):

Currently Popular Poems:

Forever Searching

Search the walls Scan the corridors Express the highs Scribble the lows Writing explores The state of my mind.   Judith  
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Acronyms

PTSD PPE BA 2.75.2 Ratios, numbers, percentages “look after yourself…” they said. We were all Marcel Marceau feeling the invisible walls closing in. I was lucky, I could get out for 30 minutes Music in the car on the way home from the crem., to those invisible walls carrying the grief of the world on my shoulders and forever in my heart. Ratios, numbers, percentages “look after yourself… Suzanne
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Community of Stones & Souls

Timeless, resilient stones; Miraculous creations. Fractured, yet not destroyed; Revealing artistic beauty within. Assembled into a constructive entity; A purposeful community of stones. Timeless, resilient souls; Miraculous creations. Fractured, yet not destroyed; Revealing artistic beauty within. Assembled into a constructive entity; A purposeful community of souls.   by Adrian
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Lace-like Shadows

Dancing with lace-like shadows of forgotten worlds, the tortoiseshell creeps slowly, the last energies to lie upon the rough bark. With folded wings, Madame butterfly is no more til Spring. Charlotte
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Ominous

Unexpected darkness descends With a decrepit desire for long absent affection, clutching at thin wispy ends with diminished thoughts and caged responses my deserted smile departed. Jill
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Paradoxical Party

Only inebriated by our own troubles, with no form of sobriety in society and so intoxicated by our own thoughts. We are just circling around one another in the party of that I see as life. When we meet a death of our paradoxical minds, the death of our bodies or both intertwined, life carries on. So, as we reside in our physical form, celebrate. Have your cake and eat it. Please don’t step on anybody else’s footsteps if they are not dancing to your rhythm. Dance your own design, truth is, the party never ends live to love in celebration and hold onto your hats! Lauren.x
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That Coastal Feeling

The coast revitalises My lost energies Downtrodden to the sand Amplified by the wind. Respects returns Armoured by the origin Enlivened by the presence Of drifting dunes. The shoreline beckons With drifting sentiments Forgotten and vast reflections Rendered unbroken. Jeremy
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Entangled Yet Free

An open-closed cage The box globe captures Amber beech, suspended Surely, safely in its net. A network of veins, junctions and oval waxy minuscule leaves. Thoughts and the essence of Autumnal fall Entangled, yet free.     Anon
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Careful Where You Walk

In the nick of time, spring at last emerges almost too late to position itself centre stage. A final twirl, a bow sweeping the footlights taking the limelight laying down its profusion of greens its heady fragrances such signs of life’s abundance all showered at our feet. A few more days and summer casting spring aside will be upon us. Be careful where you walk: a purple orchid plucked just in time from the relentless mower daisies a golden drift of buttercups vivid blue speedwell ox-eyes unfolding as we watch bluebells cowslips the deepest of red clovers plantains holding on to their dainty quivers of white petals and the purple vetch a glorious tangled paradise. Rooks fly upwards circle, settle in the topmost branches of a spreading oak. The horses swish their tails. Soon it will be summer, the first swallows sleek with bright new plumage swooping and snaking above the lake, eager to announce its coming. The little clocktower peals out the music of its chimes telling the quarters but...
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Woodpecker Squall

The five feathers of Autumn weather Were a woodpecker’s downed chatter Under an Oaks wings And the rain’s prism sang in my lashes Over and over Ring in fast skies September October The beak of the sky Pummelled the wood But I dried it’s staccato why By waving the feathers of my hand Until the spots merged Back to fine weather Then left altogether. Stephen Kirin
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