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stranded at sea



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Mon Mar 23, 2020 5:19 am
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neptune says...



going to give NaPo a try! hopefully this helps me improve my poetry writing & gets me comfortable with sharing my writing : )

don't have a specific goal, but maybe 5-10 poems?
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Thu Apr 02, 2020 3:33 am
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neptune says...



it rained for the first time since you left, and that
was the first time I felt myself drown. the
drops of rain that played against my hollow bones were
so soothing, soft, sweet like honey that crystallized
the memory of you in my mind:
cracked pavement, chapped lips,
sunlight on your face and
shadows on your eyelids (you always
said that black looked best on you)
and now I can’t remember if your hands
fit into mine or if shadows were dancing behind
my eyelids too, but everything was distorted and
we laughed because our sunburnt cheeks
dried out the bones that were shaking on the inside
(we were on fire).
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Thu Apr 02, 2020 4:21 pm
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CqpM8012 says...



love it! I got instantly connected to the feel of missing an important person
Medicine, law, business, engineering,
these are noble pursuits, and necessary to sustain life
But poetry, beauty, romance, love
these are what we stay alive for
- Dead poets society
  





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Wed Apr 08, 2020 5:06 pm
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neptune says...



lightning cracks like shattered glass
(a broken reflection in the water). so natural yet
unpredictable, so fragile yet dangerous. and i was afraid
of what would happen if i let the sand and salt
eat at the emptiness you left,
where i would go if my skin was shaking
from the thunder, lightning splitting my bones.
(the ocean is heavier down here where the dust
piles up like sand and the bones are buried treasures
where the seashells used to lie)
Last edited by neptune on Tue Apr 14, 2020 5:45 am, edited 1 time in total.
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Tue Apr 14, 2020 5:45 am
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neptune says...



the trees are crying again
and this time Spring isn’t returning,
because she’s rooted herself
in richer soil and tasted
sweeter seeds

and suddenly the pit in your stomach
doesn’t feel so natural,
because the winds have changed and
maybe so has she

(after all
roots grow and grow and still
they hold on but hands
hold differently, grow differently)

the trees are crying again
and this time the wind is less
forgiving, and it robs you
of dead leaves that have
rotted like corpses—
you are left with the spines of trees
& bare bones of
a forgotten skeleton,
wondering where Spring has gone.
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Wed Apr 22, 2020 4:33 pm
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neptune says...



i have forged a fire out of
sticks and twigs
so that the coming darkness
doesn’t consume me.

and when the nights are windy, i hold on
to the fire’s warmth, tend to its breath,
and huddle so close that the withering logs
look like bones.
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Fri Apr 24, 2020 5:01 pm
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Liberty says...



Spoiler! :
neptune, your poems are absolutely gorgeous. I love that each of these have a picture etched into them. Especially April 8th's. You focus on one image and twist that into a poem. Amazing. Keep it up! :)
LadyBug is the best frister ever <3
(everyone please know that LadyBug's the coolest goose you will ever meet)
(this goose blushes too much)
(lol imagine a blushing goose xD <3)
  





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Sun Apr 26, 2020 11:12 pm
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alliyah says...



Spoiler! :
I agree with Liberty, your poems have great use of imagery! Really loving your poem from April 22 - the progression to the twigs looking like bones at the end is unexpected and spooky in the midst of a comfortable image.

I also really dig that whole parenthetical stanza in the poem from April 14!
maybe i make up colors for poetic cadence, but i don't think i can ever love someone who doesn't understand that teal is a different color than dark cyan
  





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109 Reviews



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Reviews: 109
Mon Apr 27, 2020 12:24 am
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neptune says...



Spoiler! :
@Liberty ahh thank you!! c: I'm really trying to work on my imagery having reasons and intentions, so I'm glad that you noticed the different images from each poem!

@alliyah thank you so much! <3 I've definitely messed around with using more parentheses lately and I've had a lot of fun exploring my writing style in poetry. I really appreciate you commenting and reading my poems!


i lie on my bed every night
with the sound of the ocean
outside my bedroom door: a song
for when my mind is a stranded island and
my body sinks in my soft, safe sheets. a reminder
that the sun always leaves the worried thoughts to
quiet nights and listening moons, that the sea swallows
each hope and expectation with the tide, just so the salt
can burn a little more and my eyes sting at the thought
of the sun returning.
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"And the rest is rust and stardust."
— Vladimir Nabokov