July 19th – I hope you haven’t confused the tide with today’s prompt. Tides reflect the level of the water; waves are the rolling movement of the water. In waves there is rhythm and power. You feel it in its push and hear it in the rumble. Your waves might be personal; changes or upheavals in your life. They could be sports related (You make me stand up and flail my arms in the air one more time…) Please do not waver in your adulation for waves.
And a reminder: don’t pass up the opportunity to “meet” an incredible young person and poet featured in Marie’s Poet Interview. Our featured poet is none other that Erin Kay Hope. Read her chat with Marie HERE and you’ll walk away feeling that there is hope for the world with young ones like Erin Kay in it!***
KEEPING UP WITH THE WAVES
POETIC BLOOMINGS 
Responses
A WORLD WAR II TALE
There once was a sailor named Howie
who loved a pert WAVE based on Maui,
but when they would fight
the result was a sight,
for old Howie would sport a black owie.
copyri9ght 2013, William Preston
Note: In the Second World War the U.S. Navy relieved some of its manpower pressure by using WAVES (Women Accepted for Volunteer Emergency Service) to handle some duties. I don’t think they had official Navy rank, though I am not sure of that. They looked the part, though.
Fun take on waves sweeping the sailors,
Yes, it certainly is!
a chuckle from the poem and Marjory’s comment.
Haha, love this, William! There’s a double meaning in it…
SURFER
Her life
is a journey
taken from beach to beach,
forever looking for the next
big wave.
copyright 2013, William Preston
Ooo…I love this image!! I’d like to learn…it would be so zen to get in that zone!
Yes, it’s a beautiful image, William. You always write amazing Cinquains!
love this one. Quick, post it in Cinquain Contest!
Almost forgot. Thanks.
WAVES
Naani times 3
The wind builds,
the smell of the pending storm
preceeds the impact of
the barrage of waves.
I stand firm on the shore,
welcoming the wind’s force,
the sight of turbulent waves,
the wash of rain.
Absorbed in the storm,
all worldly cares recede
and as cares fade away
I find peace.
Peace in the midst of storms. I iike the picture you paint than actually going through them.
🙂 – I guess I have learned to walk in the storms knowing that there is someone in control.
I love the contrast there, Marjory…between the storm and the closing line of peace…wonderful!
Thank You Hannah, to me they blend naturally
They sure do. 🙂
I love that too! Perfect picture, M!
Yes, love that contrast as well; the end was soothing!
Nothing like a good storm to help you redefine peace. I like this, Marjory!
Thank you, Jane – Good insight too.
ROLLING HOME
When waves roll in and break to foam
they seem like sailors coming home
to seek a rest beneath a tree
following many days at sea,
content, for now, with landsmen’s loam.
They wait a while, perchance to comb
the beach, aping my own syndrome
to grasp the sand in vanity
when waves roll in,
but then, with glitter much like chrome,
they come about. And so the tome
continues on. And so with me:
I feel at peace within this lee
and yet my heart desires to roam
when waves roll in.
copyright 2013, William Preston
OH, well done, Great look at and connection to the waves,
Thanks very much. Thanks also for your poem, which I enjoyed. You introduced me to another form; I checked the list and decided to try it, albeit with tongue in cheekiness.
Thank You – I like it when poets ID the form they are using, because I am on this up-ward learning curve (wave?) it helps me to understand more.
Ah, very nice. I feel at peace within this lee
and yet my heart desires to roam
when waves roll in.
Lovely, William! “…my heart desires to roam when waves roll in…” Oh so does mine!
That line stood out for me too!
Very nice. You not the first to connect wander lust with the waves, a good old tradition. But I especially like how well you balance this with sailors longing for home and those at home longing for roaming. It points to a much deeper look at human desire for both, almost simultaneously.
KEEPING THE SHIP SHIPSHAPE
When waves waft water
with wanton willingness
over the prow, bailing
becomes big business.
copywrong 2013, A. Naani Mouse
Hah!
Haha, nice
Handy little mouse to have.
Hehe… 😀
WAY TO MAKE WAVES
Sedentary and tranquil
gives way to tumultuous and
turbulent; a churning
turning your demeanor
irascible, highly harassable
and looking to pick
your battles when they come.
Never one for confrontation,
but in your station you choose
to defend your honor and hone
a place for yourself, (or a small
piece of you) to claim your notoriety.
Your sole propriety to society
is to stay alive long enough
to outlive your dreams and it seems
the only way that will happen
is to rage against the light, and
anything else that gets in your way.
For on this day, you have decided,
there is no need to hide your ire,
you fire from the hip and slip into a stance,
your chance; your only chance
to take charge, be large and barge forward.
Don’t mind rocking the boat, the tide has come in
and you need no assistance in churning up
the foamy brine. For in your own mind,
you are already making waves.
Copyright Walter J Wojtanik 2013
I enjoyed reading this. Reading your work is a true exercise in reading the lines, including within them and between them.
Walt, this one has such great wordplay, especially assonance and alliteration. Nice work
Walt, love all your internal rhymes and wordplay–my favorite take charge, be large and barge forward–big smiles!
That line had me grinning as well!
Love your first line!
Oh, I Love waves…!! :)!!
So so I! 🙂
!! 😀 😀 !!
i have discarded
the long-held belief that waves
crash one at a time
© Copyright Marie Elena Good – 2010
Another older one for now. Busy with a sleepover with my grandbaby! 😀 The best kind of busy!
Oldie but goodie and so true.
Ah. Grandma’s sleep is over?
ha, ha, ha… yes, I agree…
HA! I figured as much, since we had one thurnder storm after another here, but she slept right though them. 🙂
“Sophie Sunshine Friday!!!”
Hugs and Squishes!!
♥
hee, hee
Aww! And warm Hannah Smiles and hugs to you, Auntie Hannah!
:)!!! Love that!
Aww… have fun!!! 🙂
Always! 😀
Very nice poem, Marie! Have fun with little Sophie!
xoxo
I’ve never tried this form before. Can only hope it isn’t too far off. A little serious this time.
Besetting Waves
My soul longs to know you, yet distant you seem,
near enough to sense, but untouchable, a dream.
I always look up when I think of you, to the Milky Way –
as though I think you reside on a star, it would seem.
They tell me you live in my heart, an odd thought to me.
Which chamber is your home? Do you ride vena cava’s stream?
Ancient of Days, speak to me, though you have no mouth –
is that why you became flesh? Truth, straight as a laser beam.
Why should you love this unlovely race? Why should you love me?
I’m treading water as waves of doubt, belief assail me, ever it seems.
I don’t know what the form is, but it doesn’t matter to me; I think this is well done and effective, and those “eem” rhymes ting like a bell, bringing me back to a common sound that, I suspect, indicates a common denominator, so to speak.
Ghazal, I just discovered it this morning. Thanks for the nice comment.
Oh, thanks. I think I tried that once; quit in frustration.
OK – GHAZAL – can’t find it.
How is the form spelled out?
Be interesting to give it a go.
http://www.shadowpoetry.com/resources/wip/ghazal.html
is where I found it but at some other sites they have different details – so am not sure if this is correct or not.
somewhere it said it is pronounced yazal (sort of like guzzle) I’m shrugging my shoulders cause I sure don’t know.
Thanks – I saved the web site as soon as I saw the list of forms!! I read the description once – which clouded my brain – I closed my eyes, took a break then came back later with paper and pen to figure it out!
My way to write the skeleton would be:
bA,bA -c,bA, -d,bA -e,bA -f,bA
(A being 1,2 or 3 words)
Now to go find my A 🙂
OK, found my A, The idea of the beach was a good start.
GHAZAL (A = sea)
AbA cbA dbA ebA dbA
What is summer is a tidy sea
In winder can be a mighty sea.
With springtime days and quiet nights
it can change into a sassy sea.
When tides run high in autumn’s air,
wind can whip it to a bossy sea.
When I’m with you on star-lit beach
the moon turns it to a glossy sea.
For me, year round, what’re the season,
what’re the mood, ‘tis a lovely sea.
…
My approach to writing a Ghazal … Pick a likely A (my first A did not work) then find a bunch of ‘b’s to work with the A.
Next write my stanzas (not limited to 5) and play with their arrangement. Pick 5 stanzas arrangement that flows best.
The stanzas are related but independent.
Sort-a mechanical approach, but it works for me.
Maybe I’ll correct the typo’s and spelling and re-post it tomorrow. 🙂
Thanks much for the lesson. I’d like to try again, but probably in small sips; can’t guzzle it down.
I think your words are beautiful…
Thank you, Henrietta.
I think I need simpler defs – I confuse myself to easily.
Came up with a quick one in the shower. Needs work, but at least it is new. 😉
DEMENTIA
She’s lost the normalcy she craves
Thoughts and memories come in waves
Some leaving painful debris
Some forever lost at sea
© Copyright Marie Elena Good – 2013
“Good Wash” 🙂
ie. coming up (and retaining) one from the shower.
The poem says “a lot” of truth, hard waves to watch.
I agree with Debi; it seems fine and precise as is.
Painful message…
Yes… Hugs to you, Marie!
Revising? I like it as it is.
I wrote this years ago, then modified it last year for the Poetic Asides blog.
Song
I flow -a wave through space.
I’m light through a vacuum,
relentless,
infinite.
You are helpless to stop me.
I force myself upon you, into you,
and as I enter, you begin to understand.
You revel in my rhythm!
Nice. It almost makes electromagnetic radiation romantic.
Very pretty. I love “you revel in my rhythm”!!
[…] Written for Poetic Bloomings “Life is a Beach” – Day 19: Waves. […]
AMID THE CHURNING
Like
waves
crashing
onshore, life
sometimes overwhelms
me, making it hard to stand firm.
Yet, churning can bring change, replacing the old with new.
2013-07-19
P. Wanken
I used the fibonnaci form…but the line length of the final line wrapped. Oh well. It’s formatted as “centered” on my blog. pw
Fib’in- can be fun! Good go.
Oh, absolutely!
Love the form and the poem!
undulating
rhythms of life
going by
Good morning Michelle, Sending you a Wave here.We seem to post together more than once. 🙂 Like your poem. Are you on the West Coast?
Good morning Marjory! Waving right back at you. 🙂 Thank you. I am in the Central part of the country – Minnesota, land of 10,000 mosquitoes! lol
ooh, yikes!
That would be 9,999 plus the one I just ‘got’ tooooo many. 🙂
Oh yes!
Very true, Michelle!
SURFER’S FABLE (Villanelle)
I can’t hold back my pride.
Disbelievers come and see
I’m good when over waves I ride.
Caring my board to the sea side
Not caring who waits to see me,
I can’t hold back my pride.
Never from a wave I’d hide
Nor seek the safety of the lee
I’m good when over waves I ride
Loving the surge as I start slide,
Loving the motion, feeling so free
I can’t hold back my pride.
Mid stormy waves you thought I died
But, I’ll not surrender to the sea.
I’m good when over waves I ride.
Never to you have I lied,
And I must be who I be,
I can’t hold back my pride.
I’m good when over waves I ride.
PS – I have never even attempted to surf.
Me neither 🙂 !!
I haven’t either, but I love this poem! Almost makes me want to…almost. 😉
For me, this form is almost as daunting as a sestina. I think you’ve created an excellent one here.
Almost? Me too Erin. You and I and Hen can watch.
Thanks WP.
Yep :)!!
Riding the Waves, Take 1
I’m wrapped
in surging sea,
held by water muscle’s
tightening biceps, skimming on
the crest.
Riding the Waves, Take 2
You have to go
through undertow
along the shore-
line’s pull before
you hear the hiss
of crested fist,
the waves that fell
but angry yell
one final surge
and try to purge
whatever enters
their blue scope.
Just past the crests,
you float and rest
atop a roiling
ocean boiling
with lift and fall
and seagulls’ call.
The deep sea fills
waves’ pockets ‘til
you swim through warm
and cool, quite charmed,
for each wave glitters
with new hope.
I very much enjoy reading this. The sounds, the line lengths, the end rhymes in the lines and stanzas, the beat, all support the idea and feeling of waves. Magnificent, in my opinion.
“with lift and fall
and seagulls’ call”……………….nice! (I can see and hear and smell…a lot going on.)
Well done.
yes… always you take me there!
I love both of these, but especially Take 2. 🙂 I am so there!
Thanks to you all for kind comments.
Over or Under
Riding atop the wave
Free, easy, exhilarating
Sucked in under the wave
Fighting, fearful, drowning
Lord, grant me skills to surf
Your title reminded of an old (1914) sing, By the Beautiful Sea. Your message is a bit less jocular, though. It made the point.
Lord, grant me skills…. FOR Sure….
🙂 !!
Love that last line! 😀
That last line says it all.
Silent Call
With a quiet sigh
Another wave rolls over
The grey sand;
With unvarying
Regularity, the sea
Pounds the surf:
A wondrous song of
Sea and sand, stirring longing
In my heart,
Tugging earnestly
At my soul; can’t you hear the
Silent call?
© Copyright Erin Kay Hope – 2013
OH, Yes… I really does ‘call’.
I suppose … better to say …”IT really does call.” 🙂
IT sure does! 😉 Thank you, M!
Lovely…
Thanks, Hen! ❤
It is, indeed.
Gales of November
Against the break-water rocks they fling themselves
Great bursts of spray rising to the skies
The wind blows from the north, spitting snow
November’s seasonal display
Sailor beware! Stay out of her way
Gone the shallow summer days
Gentle waves on a sandy beach
Winter bursts upon us, hear her roar!
She will grab whatever is in her reach
The clouded sky a sullen gray
Matching the dismal colored waves
You who would venture from the shore
Could find yourself a watery grave
The gales of November, remember.
she sounds like a rough lady to me. Good personification in this poem.
Sounds strong and sure of herself, confident. 🙂
I would LOVE to be in a nice, warm room listening to her just outside my window…
Yes! That is the best way. 🙂 Great poem, Marian!
Life is a Beach – the Waves
Hypnotic are these gypsy waves at night
repetitive upon a full moon shore.
The surf sends shafts of water into flight.
As roaring sound reflects a heart that soars.
A rising tide; emotion fills the heart.
Such waves become recurring ocean’s slave.
A longed-for promise: we shall never part
as roiled, repeated waters will obey.
Enthralled, I see reflected in your eyes
that rapture; sure as waving water_ More
than beauty, grace and nature can devise!
A spellbound glance when opening your door.
So, now the moon pulls both of us to shore;
and loves a rhythm that has flowed before.
Beautifully written.
Yes, beautiful message…
Oh beautiful! I always love your sonnets, Jackie! 🙂
Waves of Emotion
It snowed overnight and the roads are a fright,
So the schools are all closed ~ on a Friday!
Mums and dads can’t drive, their cars slip and slide
So its family fun on a school day.
Dogs in bright jackets are leaping for joy
Taken out for a walk, on a school day.
Babies and toddlers peep out of their prams
They’re going to the park, on a school day.
Tiny tots muffled in mittens and hats,
Squeal in delight, on a school day.
Giggling girls, hugging their friends,
Slide down the hill, on a school day.
Teen terrors in hoodies become little boys
Throwing snowballs at girls, on a school day.
Steep slopes draw the daring on sledges and boards,
They hurtle downhill, on a school day.
I sit at the window and, like falling snow,
My thoughts pile up into drifts.
My smiles turn to tears at the sights and sounds
Of my school days, as the frozen scene shifts.
Of ink wells and blotters, of wafers and milk,
Of chalk boards and outside loos;
Of walking to school by the RiverTyne,
Of castles, and coalmines and ships.
And then there are people, who wave as they pass,
Loved aunties and cousins and friends
A sister and brother no longer in touch
A mother and father I mourned.
There are icicles hanging near a frozen stream,
The snow covered branches are bending
The field is a snow frosted wonderland
Its beauty my broken heart mending.
Well written, I like the flow.
Tenderly sad…
I think this is superb.
Oh thank you x
This is such a tender piece! I’m so glad you chose to post your poems here, heavenhappens. 🙂
And you wanted advice from me? I may be calling to have you set ME straight! 😉 A great start. The repetition drives this. You can check our IN-FORM POET tab above and try a few form. The best advice I can give is… WRITE!
Thanks Walt, great encouragement! Will try a few different forms as I usually write Haiku unless the muse writes for me as she did on the School Day x
Two Poems for Waves
The Immediacy of Waves
I’m filled
with sky and sea, long stretching
until all meet where my senses
limit the reach to my interests.
I stand
on this ironed white sand beach,
and I am singular
amongst these crowded grains
of sand, but my solitude is swept
smooth by the drift of a small cloud
that lends shadow, brief shade
to my shoulders before the sun
disperses it to misty wisps.
And I stand.
Here, filled with sky and sea,
unaware that with every roll
of the waves my fortune turns.
~ ~ ~
Rollers
Rollers, we called them. Tumbling
blinds of bursting sea that knocked
you off your feet when you turned
your back on them. We learned
never turn your back on the sea.
🙂
🙂 !!
Charming little poems, both!
[…] PB “Waves” […]
Warning
The waves are eating sunglasses—
they steal them off your face!
I guess the sun gets in their eyes
and swimmers never realize
pickpocket waves are sneaky fast
and disappear without a trace.
That is cute. …I can ‘see’ their little wet mitts reaching out….
Be a great illustrated children’s book.— “Waves With Mittens”
Wonder what all they might nip off with….. (While keeping it light)
Ha, ha, ha… “…I guess the sun gets in their eyes” 🙂 !!
I love this, and appreciate the use of “sneaky fast.”
Cute! I like this a lot, Jane!
Yes they are “sneaky fast” little pickpockets but I would never have thought of it for a poem – very clever!!!!
Thanks, friends. Bill, that sneaky fast had you in mind ;).
[…] LIFE IS A BEACH – WAVES-Poetic Bloomings […]
Two Tiny Tanka
~
Arrival of Love
~
Stardust and God’s breath…
you’re there on the other side,
just beyond this wave-
closer with each rise and swell ;
pain for prize…hello, baby.
~
~
Treasure
~
There you are, shining
neath this deep crimson sea, love.
A pearl in waiting
while ocean provokes you forth-
moving you from your home, born.
~
Copyright © Hannah Gosselin 2013
~
Tanka: 31 syllables/five lines= five/seven/five/seven/seven
~
I have often deciphered pain as waves…especially those waves of labor pain, actually a wonderful place to go mentally to meditate through the journey, (such a reward at the end)!
OH, well done poetically and good wave to choose in times of pain.
Thank you so much, Marjory!!
Oh, yes, so very creative… I wish I had had those poetic lines of meditation during labor :)!!
Thank you, Hen! 🙂
:)!!
I love them both; images fly forth from them.
I’m glad you enjoyed these, thank you!
Oh, both so beautifully written, Hannah! I love “…pain for prize…hello, baby”. So sweet! ❤
Erin, thanks!! :)!
Both are beautiful but I esp like “Arrival of Love”
I think I do too, thank you so much for reading, Debi!
One from past year, it just seems to ‘fit’ 🙂
SAND DANCE (Pantoum)
Waves come crashing on the beach,
from clouds the rain is dripping,
waves recede back out of reach
along the wet sand I’m dancing.
From clouds the rain is dripping.
Holding a cape of old cowhide
along the wet sand I’m dancing
while avoiding the racing tide.
Holding a cape of old cowhide
against the rain that’s falling
while avoiding the racing tide
I watch gulls run for covering.
Against the rain that’s falling
as they seek their dinner clams,
I watch gulls run for covering
beneath old driftwood jams.
As they seek their dinner clams
waiting out the storm’s wet sting
beneath old driftwood jams
mid the buffeting of the wind.
Waiting out the storm’s wet sting,
my sand dance still goes on
mid the buffeting of the wind
at the stormy bay at dawn.
My sand dance still goes on
waves come crashing on the beach,
at the stormy bay at dawn,
waves recede back out of reach.
Marjory Thompson 5/2012
Gorgeous… you had me at “…dancing…”
The pantoum is my favorite of the “French” forms (I think it’s Malay, originally), and this is an excellent one, in my view. Thanks for posting.
Beautiful, M, just beautiful! Dancing on the sand brings such a sweet picture to mind. 🙂
Thank you, each…. come on over (Erin ‘up’ for you) and we’ll go dancing on the sand at the bay.
Secrets
In the windswept conch shell,
I hear the waves whisper.
You always say so MUCH with so few words. I want to find a shell to ‘listen’ to. Great job, Hen
That’s what I always tell her too! Love this, Hen! 🙂
😀 !! Thank you, Erin, for me, less is more :)!!
You’re welcome, Hen, you do it so well!
!! 😀 !!
Oh, I Love the conch shell!! Thank you, M!! :)!
Amen to that.
🙂 !!
GONE… (HexSonnetta) May 2012
Sea waves loudly crashing
on sand beaches I comb
while wondering alone,
watching, mindlessly floating
with white seagulls dancing
to the ocean’s deep tone.
Spirit lifts with the breeze
as water and sky blend
gently blurring the end
as each turns new ways
knowing all our past days –
Gone with the Wind – hearts mend.
Looking to the new dawn
To build a new life on.
Oh, M, this is Beautiful… “Gone with the Wind…”!!
Yes, gorgeous!
Thanks to both of you, Hen and Erin. :). 🙂
To Form A New Wave… (Minute Poem)
Her folds of foamy green she pulls
From rocky shoals
With weary arms,
Her fading charms.
About her in her last despair,
She droops her hair,
Sheds salty tears
To calm her fears,
And on the sand she softly sighs,
She moans and dies,
A wave of blue
To form anew.
© Copyright Erin Kay Hope – 2013
This is an older one as well. 🙂
I think this is excellent; very good imagery.
Thank you, William!
Yes… painted lovely…!!
I love the whole idea and growth of it. 🙂
White Force (a fibonacci)
White
waves
rush at
crushing speed,
heading straight toward you.
Can you withstand force or fall prey?
Sara – I like it, but it is just a FIB (1-1-2-3-5-8-)
a Fibonacci has a return (1-1-2-3-5-8-8-5-3-2-1-1)
I don’t know, but I like to think that a Fibonacci has a return and a Fib doesn’t. This is a nice little white Fib.
Well, all right, it’s not a good joke. But it is a good poem, in my mind.
Thanks, Marjory. I was not aware of that.
Great question!!
Thanks, Hen!
What a great ending line! I’ve done both–sometimes that wave is a lot bigger than it looks–lol!
I know!
WAVES
Rolling
booming
pounding
looming
foaming
roiling
crashing
boiling
rising
reaching
folding
beaching
advance
retreat
swoosh
repeat
Wow, yes!
FUN read….
http://saravinas.blogspot.com/
had a photo so wanted to share via my blog. Happy Sunday 🙂
[…] … Written for Poetic Bloomings, Day 19. […]