I hear whispers
on waters
that crash and swell
a calling
to my distant lover
who never returned
to lift the dews of my sorrow,
the fog is still there
and i wait, aching—
to be seen,
to be joined,
to be merged
as one

I'll offer all my words to the sea
They may descend
        Never be seen

They may disperse
Within the seven oceans
            Await judgement    

Or be ignored
Left to evaporate
            Condense
            Form a smaller word
                                         Rain

Without you
Without me

When I think of you
And your proud smile
I feel Time laughing at me:
I still live in those fragments of seconds,
When I thought you were mine.
I adore you so much
My heart aches each passing day
Without hearing from you,
But the wound you left me with
It’s still bleeding, and I just wish
I could forget you.
When you left me alone,
I wasn’t hurt by your rejection
But by the love I knew I would let fade.
Every day and night, I miss so dearly
Feeling that deeply,
Not your smile or blue eyes are the ones who hunt me
But the pureness of my heart
When your light shone on it.
Gift me with your love.
And I’ll never let you take it back ever again.
I fear the sea won’t be enough
To heal my shattered soul
Now I’ve been this close to your home:
Hit me like waves on the shore.
Will your ghost ever stop
Haunting my present?
Do you not realise
The power you hold
Over me? How you
Control when it beats and stops
And make it dance until
It doesn’t work anymore.
I’ve stopped a long time ago
Wasting our time,
But just the words
And I’ll be yours again, completely.
Make me yours one more time.

I just died in her arms tonight
a romantic sad thought
however untrue
her arms tossed me off the cliff
into the rocky briny ocean waters
turned red with the blood of sorrow
the waves of death
washing away the scared face of me
she walked away from this loveless crime
I, in pieces floating aimlessly in the sea
my ghost still holds fond thoughts
of flowers surrounding her

The height of the cliff,
It draws me near.
It seeks out my rifts,
Takes away my fears.

The silent crashing sea,
It calls to me.
It brings a certain peace,
A calming finality.

The whispers of the breeze,
It soothes away crystal tears.
Gentle whispers of lullaby,
Echoing through the years.

The solid rocks below,
They tell me "come",
Their strength and rigidity,
Enough to lure the numb.

And so I stand at the edge,
Take the scenery above,
Before I succumb,
To the pull of below.

The blow. The flow.
My arms are wings thrown,
Yet the only way to go,
Is down, where peace and silence grows.

Dear ******* the groyne,
Forgive the forgeries upon my memory.
Forgive the feebleness of my firsthand.
Forgive the feeding of my frenzy.
Forgive the freneticism of my prose.
Take truth from the diction of my lens.

I trust you will grant me a fair hearing,
And offer me the clemency of purpose—
To once more capture or conquer
The presence of Iris herself in your greens.

Grant me a jury of judicious witness,
The pounding of the gavel as grace
For the crime of picturing the presence.
I bid the remainder of my fruitless fall.

Dear ******* the groyne,
Has your blacksmith forgotten you?
Left to entice waves at shutter speed,
Forged in flame,
Chiselled and tamed on Vulcan high.

Through his neglect has the time arrived
To render and share for all or none—
As Pandora, of beauty, of curiosity,
Doomed to open the box
For me and my eye.

Dear the man on the beach,
Do you have any sense of shame?
As if the still frame holds the truest face
The gods of our minds do not claim to fame,
But cower and quiver with a shout of shrill.

I beam bounty in the rays of the sun,
Watching the groyne creak and stutter
As the waves breach and mutter—
A voice of too great dread to utter.

I sense your presence, your song,
The siren’s call to prayer.
The screech of the zoom and focus,
Lulling and drawing a sailor of despair.

But it cannot be enough
To return the green to my grey.
It is but a mirror of Death,
For the true beauty lies beneath the skin.

As the waves crash,
And the wind howls,
And the flash—

Our moment in time, you and I—
A fleeting visit in a luminal light,
Between silence and soul,
Of a tune forgotten in the sands of us.

Yet for the sea, a distant whisper
Of a moment—
The opening of a story.

Was it a moment of theft?
A moment of true witness?
Good enough to frame?
Was I truly seen?
Or just a clutch for transcendence?

And still,
The tide remakes the shore.
The groyne groans.
The flash fades.

You carry the image.
I carry the knowing.

We both were framed.
We both were fire.