#poems about the ocean

[serenecirce]

Oh the desire to be loved like how the moon loves the ocean

They loves the moon even when they cannot see it

They dance for eternity

In sync with each other until the universe crumbles

-Athena

[maryhall]

in the inky abyss

lives a glowing octopus

she shines sky-blue

despite being so deep

see her stomach

in her glass head

she floats with the current

wherever it takes her next

[ohwaitwhatdamn]

I’m standing at the edge of the Pacific Ocean

getting pelted in my face with hail

I’m screaming into the void

but no one can hear me over the roaring

The wind is embracing the angry waves

and creating an offspring of saltwater

Sticky and humid across my skin

The air thick and sweet

The ocean keeps my private thoughts

deep down and buried

I brought the humidity back to Seattle

with me and it sticks to my knees

It’s a fair price to pay for something that

knows my feelings and thoughts

[asoftepiloguemylove]

LOOK AT ME, LOOK AT ME, LOOK AT ME / BECAUSE I EXIST, I EXIST, I EXIST

Franz Kafka Letters to Felice // リリイ・シュシュのすべて All About Lily Chou-Chou (2001) dir. 岩井 俊二 Shunji Iwai / Phoebe Bridgers Funeral // Emily Palermo // Ocean Vuong Someday I'll Love Ocean Vuong // 堕落天使 Fallen Angels (1995) dir. Wong Kar-wai // Margaret Atwood // Bell Hooks All About Love // @mango-season // Mitski Nobody

[cyberr-v0id]

Too many people relate the ocean to sunshine and summer and relaxation and… that’s just not it.

I mean no hate if that’s what it means to you, and maybe it’s the fact that I AM an ocean child, my family is from the sea and we came to this country across it, but I can just never relate the ocean to an ice cream and a pool floatie.

To me the ocean is wild. It is danger. It is freedom. It is tasting the edge and knowing that not everyone can come back from it. It is swimming as far out the bay as you can when you’re twelve because you’re just so enchanted by the water and what it promises, only to realise that you’ve drifted far from where your family was. It is promises and secrets and treasure. It is alluring, a siren in the back of my mind, calling to me. It is hooked deep into who I am and I know that I can never come back from that.

The ocean is restless and she cares for no one any more than she has to. She would willingly drag me down ti her depths and never let me go, and that just makes me love her more. The ocean is in my heart.

The ocean, the sea, the waves that crash on the rocks in the storm, that rush up up up over the sand banks and into the town. That isn’t a being that is intrinsically tied to sunlight and fruit and sun tans.

Have you never stood on the cliffs, or the end of the pier, and felt the waves crashing below and the salt spray fly onto your face? Have you never felt the tug of a current, or stayed on the shore even as the tide comes up to your legs, then up to the harbour wall? Have you never stepped into her fierce embrace and wished to never leave?

The ocean is restless, yes, and wild, and dangerous. She will be tamed by nobody.

[boycritter]

things that make me think lake thoughts

[starsstardust]

About Love from the last 5 books I read

Amanda Lovelace, the princess saves herself in this one // Trista Mateer, Aphrodite Made Me Do It // Ocean Vuong, Night Sky with Exit Wounds // Phoenicia Rogerson, Herc // Ada Limon, Bright Dead Things

[delicris]

Ocean Vuong || Dear T || Time Is a Mother

ALT text in the picture

[imminent-danger-came]

"Do not ask how the oceans blue, or why the tides their time do keep. To love, is simply to know this: the tides are true as the ocean is deep."

[pencap]

.

[hersurvival]

As a girl I lived on an island,

One you probably haven't heard of,

Because why would you?

All that to say, I was raised on the beach.

5 a.m: The sea foam, like champagne bubbles,

Washed ashore and clung around my ankles,

Leaving behind rings of wet sand.

8 a.m: The waves lapped at my knees,

I don't remember walking out this far,

But I am still safe, still in control.

By 11 a.m. I was up to the waist, surrounded,

And dragged out into the depths.

They always warn you about the undertow -

Before you know it, you're out of sight, too far.

And I've been stuck in the ocean ever since.

Have you ever swallowed the sea?

Waves crashing above your head,

Sending you under the surface?

It makes you sick.

You fight to float, to tread water,

No energy to waste on screaming.

No one can hear you out there

Anyway.

The tides change every twelve and a half hours.

But high-tide to low-tide,

You'll just keep getting farther out

At sea.

[amalgamationink]

NAPOWRIMO24 #12: the pyrite age of pyracy

[asoftepiloguemylove]

WE SHALL BE MONSTERS

Saptajit Banerjee What does it mean to be human? // 스위트홈 Sweet Home (2020-2024) dir. Jang Young-woo; Lee Eung-bok; Park So-hyun // Victoria Schwab Vicious // Melissa Broder Problem Area from "Last Sext" // Clarice Lispector The Hour of the Star // 스위트홈 Sweet Home (2020-2024) dir. Jang Young-woo; Lee Eung-bok; Park So-hyun // Ocean Vuong On Earth We're Briefly Gorgeous // George Seferis Collected Poems 1924-1955 // 스위트 홈 Sweet Home (2017-2020) cr. Kim Carnby & Hwang Young-chan // Fyodor Dostoyevsky The Brothers Karamazov // Frank Bidart Half-light: Collected Poems 1965-2016 // Florence + the Machine Rabbit Heart (Raise It Up) // 스위트홈 Sweet Home (2020-2024) dir. Jang Young-woo; Lee Eung-bok; Park So-hyun // John Flaxman Scylla

[maryhall]

candlelight flickers in the dark

and i do not know who i am

the space between the bed and the wall

stretches as an abyss or watery grave

that laps at the legs of my bed

its dark consumes discarded blankets

drags them down like my own self

but still i wonder who i am

my true self lays at the very bottom

of the ocean with the whale fall

where marine snow falls lightly

onto the heads of little crabs

and larger ones eat them

until my body is nothing but bones

let me remain in this bed

[loonarmuunar]

The water laps and pulses. Growling, stroking, choking.

Same place same rhyme.

Sickly blues and black eat at the metal, as it has eaten before.

History repeats. Same rhyme.

The ocean feeds, as it was force-fed your oils and skins. The sweat on your back like those back in your sweatshops like the sweat in your blood money. Blood to a shark, you followed to the depths.

Pulsing, stroking, choking.

Air is pulsing and beating, the rhythm in your chest a weak drum. Deus ex machina’s abandoned lover. How many days? How many hours? How many minutes?

Unsinkable, indestructible, immortal.

Choking and choking and choking and waiting.

Waiting

Waiting

The sun is gone

Waiting

Stroking, choking, dying

Repeat.

[headspacedad]

The Sea Wolf

when I was a very little kid, still in the single age digits, I found a poem I half memorized in a book at the library. 

Then, for the next thirty years or so I never saw it again, not even when I put the lines I remembered into internet search.  A few years back - I finally found it.  I still have no idea who wrote it but here it is:

The fishermen say, when your catch is done And you’re sculling in with the tide, You must take great care that the Sea Wolf’s share Is tossed to him overside.

They say that the Sea Wolf rides, by day, Unseen on the crested waves, And the sea mists rise from his cold green eyes When he comes from his salt sea caves.

The fishermen say, when it storms at night And the great seas bellow and roar, That the Sea Wolf rides on the plunging tides, And you hear his howl at the door.

And you must throw open your door at once, And fling your catch to the waves, Til he drags his share to his cold sea lair, Straight down to his salt sea caves.

Then the storm will pass, and the still stars shine, In peace-so the fisherman say- But the Sea Wolf waits by the cold Sea Gates For the dawn of another day.