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Knee deep in the weeds
To the sound of water

Leeched skin drains
In the River Cole

Excited barks
In the clay banks

Rodents tease
The old black dog

Long grass forts
And half mile trenches

The quest for sticklebacks,
Minnows and chubs

Neighbour wars
Over fresh cut turf

Jumper goals hide
The weakest squash

The unmatched
And unskilled teams

Played till the streetlights
Brought us home.

By Darren Wall
Old memories hit the hardest
QUEEN Afareen designed a perfume bottle
she herself exuded a scent of untainted ambergris, orris wafted as her heavenly cue
lime with jasmine spritz her exuberant hue

a black swan neck curved crystal female form
this bottle crafted in alexandrite, mirroring her
pharaoh shaped silhouette, gold sun rays embedded facade, stopper of opal warm

ruby inlays rested languidly at bottle base
slivers of pearl and aquamarine laced
replica of Aphrodite she encased in Myanmar teak, sculpted with elk ivory, reclining bottle
in Muga silk before a river lilting lily wattle

then gifted herself her own bottle, liquid tomb
nimble fingers twisting opal top for perfume
her unique irreplaceable exuding essence
imperceptibly drifting reverent presence

drinking the last undistilled drops from
edenic perfume bottle, QUEEN Afareen
extinguished herself gracefully into muscled
arms of Adonis, as bottle drifted downstream
towards turquoise ocean emptied, beamed
a sorrowed counterploy buried, it screamed

Copyright: GhairoDanielsPoetry ____
Glen Gormley Sep 21
To me life is a river that each one of us must cross
From sleepy little eddies to a mass of heaving froth.
At times it may be beautiful, a gentle flowing stream
When times are good, and all is well it’s everything you dream.
The day is warm, the waters cool sent swirling through your toes
So quietly does it trickle past then its journey onward goes.
Not bringing any burdens only happy joyful times
When birds all sing and in the sky the golden sun still shines.
But at times it is a torrent, a raging flowing surge
Not helped by mixing waters when other’s rivers merge
When others bring you troubles, put problems in your way
You feel the water rising, your hopes being washed away.
No bridge to cross for many, too simple that would be
Some stepping-stones are all there are, they’re all that you can see.
So take a step upon those stones, some slimy wet and green
Waiting to upend you into hazards yet unseen.
Be sure your foot is planted, and the stone secure below
Take the hand of someone who’s love you trust and know.
Use your strength together to beat the rivers’ rath
Lean on one another and take the safest path.
Cross the flowing water whether it be calm or rough
When times are good and easy or when the goings tough.
And when the sun of life has set, and we reach that far of shore
Where all our pains and worries will trouble us no more
Look back across the river and the path your life had set.
And know that you were lucky as you did not get too wet.
What can we do in the end?
When our existence has become completely soulless…
And the world as we know it doesn’t deserve our perception of it…

Where’s the colour?!

What can we do?
Something, anything?
Something real? Love repeated…

Remember that thing… how it gleamed…

And now, there’s nearly nothing…    
Nearly nothing because of what we’re doing…
And what we’re letting them do…

And there’s no god to save us,
Just our words and power…
Power that should be as simple as a flower that welcomes the smeller…
But instead we’re being devoured by a scent so sick and seductive it makes us shiver before being swaddled in its shadow…

An oxygen and spirit-******* force that won’t stop slowly eating us until we give up the joke inside of us - the fake rose, the front; all our artificial flavour and fervour - the real desire is deep within and we’ve all felt and feel it like a vast river that connects all our fears and wonders, making us better, stronger, longer, brighter, grander, wholer - together - an awesomely dazzling luminous light that should never be underestimated by some jester…
A river, my river, I am the river.
A river, water that goes with the flow.
A river, a calm flow most of the time.
A river, now in a time of life that overflows.

The calm river, gone
not coming back as it was
but as a new river it went somewhere.

An island, a calm place
a stopping point.
The rivers stopping point.
An island, a place to learn
a place to evolve and come back better than ever.
But even an island can’t stop a storm from happening,
emotions from escaping.

A storm, a disoriented place where everything is dark.
A storm, a cry
just a girl.

A person, a safe place until the storm happens.
Even beauty can’t safe the sea.
The sea can never be saved.
It can only safe herself
And after some time
come back anew
as a calm river.

It’s a cyclus, happening over and over again
until the island disappears.
Until it’s fully gone.
But an island never disappears.
it might not be an island anymore
but it’s still there with me every step of the way.
This time it follows the flow,
evolves along the way until I don’t need him any more.

And then I go my own way,
to find that island.
As a calm river, getting ready for the upcoming storm.
As a girl, preparing to hate my mind.
But its nature, its human.
It will happen many times all over again.
And thats alright.
Penitence, /
Repentance: /
—Deviating from erroneous ways /
To a place of integrity. /
The Lonely River flows /
From Sin & Death /
To Living Waters. /

(—Se’ lah)

08-08-2025
AUSTIN Aug 18
where is that space
in your mind?
a path lead
to a
riverbed,
riverbed leading
into shallow rapids

there stands
three logs
pointed towards
a sunny sky

that’s were
i stand
a microphone
in hand
singing
a song
only for
me to know
The river flows without caution,
it turns and bends anyway it pleases.
Over time it changes its mind and decides
to turn left a bit here and right a bit there.
Over time its curves become more pronounced
till failure, and then it charts a new path through the land.
Over time it loops and twists and cuts
and takes new shapes and new routes,
but in the end it is still the same river and no one disagrees,
only thankful that it flows.
Zywa Aug 13
In the dark night sky

the river sings over stones --


its bittersweet song.
Song poem "El rio despierta" ("The river awakens", 1924, Antonio Machado), collection "Nuevas canciones" ("New songs")

Collection "Being my own museum"
Mustafa Aug 8
I am the ocean, some call me the sea
I have many names in different languages
I  was one of the first things to be created
Life upon earth began inside of me

I have been around for so long, I have lost track
Of how many millions of years or even billions of years
Many creatures were born and lived inside of me
So many are lost forever, never to be seen

Man has been fascinated by my might and power
He has travelled upon my back to far-off lands
And if I am in an angry mood, I drag all
Who rides on my back into my belly, deep down

I was there before the land was created, long before
I can swallow all of the land, ask the ones inside of me
I am not an angry, menacing monster, please note
I am the sea, a massive collection of all the waters

When the river empties itself into me, it trembles
Water is like me, but my mighr terrifies it
Yet the river knows there is no turning back
It empties itself into me and becomes a part of me
This poem is an ode to the sea , the ocean.Were it not for the sea where would the beach be
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