ocean Archives - Spillwords

My Heart In A Bottle

Ash DouglasMay 22, 2020

My Heart In A Bottle written by: Ash Douglas @ALittlePunAsh Like a bottle in a vast ocean… I’m drifting further and further from your beautif...

EnglishPoetry1 min read

Soul of the Ocean

Nima MohanApril 29, 2020

Soul of the Ocean written by: Nima Mohan Ocean or the Sea? A big body of water? Is she just that? Well, if you ask me, I would call her a big Soul...

EnglishPoetry1 min read

All But Love…

Mitch BenselApril 9, 2020

All But Love... written by: Mitch Bensel @MitchRambling blissfully dying inside time is killing me as of late the sun covers me slow the breeze tells me ...

EnglishPoetry0 min read

A Mermaid

Maroulla RadisavicFebruary 14, 2020

A Mermaid written by: Maroulla Radisavic My love is a mermaid… I’m a poet and I sing my dreams and my pains Girls love me But I love a mermaid I w...

EnglishPoetry0 min read

An Ode To The Moon

Boris SimonovskiJanuary 17, 2020

An Ode To The Moon written by: Boris Simonovski @VolkashinPoet As I lay atop the mountain reminiscing of my past rendezvous, those visions have bee...

EnglishPoetry0 min read

WINDMILLS

TM DiSarroJanuary 8, 2020

WINDMILLS written by: TM DiSarro @tmdisarro Windmills at the Isle of Wight Grinding out a wall of sound Crashing chords into the night Hardly ever...

EnglishPoetry1 min read

This Is Where I Want To Die

Mikhael WrassleJanuary 8, 2020

This Is Where I Want To Die written by: Mikhael Wrassel @emmanuelpalada To drown in the ocean, where my eyes freeze, water flows into my lungs, as...

EnglishPoetry0 min read

Ocean Restoration

Kelli J GavinDecember 4, 2019

Ocean Restoration written by: Kelli J Gavin @KelliJGavin The only hit I have ever welcomed was the slap of a wave First, my ankles and then my thigh...

EnglishPoetry1 min read

A Drifting Halo

Mark TulinNovember 14, 2019

A Drifting Halo written by: Mark Tulin @Crow_writer The cool of the ocean and the warmth of the heavens come together to form a slow-moving halo ...

EnglishPoetry0 min read

Black Water

Ximena EscobarNovember 12, 2019

Black Water written by: Ximena Escobar @laximenin Closing my eyes upon your nearness I submerged in your darkness, I soared on the wavelets, flo...

EnglishPoetry0 min read

Two Lights

Joseph J. Breunig 3rdJuly 31, 2019

Two Lights written by: Joseph J. Breunig 3rd @jjbreunig3 I recall the few luxurious moments, of spending sunny days… climbing and sliding on the sl...

EnglishPoetry1 min read

Acadia

Christopher JohnsonJuly 13, 2019

Acadia written by: Christopher Johnson @cjohnsonwrite At 36, Erik Gustafson was an Angry Young Man. Wrathful, irate, sore as a crab, waxy, hot under ...

EnglishFeatured PostLiterature16 min read

All Bottles Hold A Message

NomiddlenameJuly 13, 2019

All Bottles Hold A Message written by: Nomiddlename the ocean’s ageless skin crumples beneath my stained glass stare retreating over ancient gilde...

EnglishPoetry0 min read

Fishes and Me

Kuni ShimizuJuly 11, 2019

Fishes and Me written by: Kuni Shimizu Like most any kids, I did my share of fishing when I was small. In the area where I lived, there were many po...

EnglishPoetry1 min read

Gerardine White (mostly called Ger) grew up in wild open country of West Limerick, Ireland. Her country life is represented in her poems and has a strong bearing on her core values and education. She inherited the skill of poetic rhyme from both of her parents and her Grandad – who were all fine poets and storytellers. Her education took place mostly in South West Ireland and the rest of it is gleaned from travel, from life, and from being an avid reader of all kinds of books. In recent years she has returned to poetry writing. This past year seeing her published in four Anthologies from Clarendon House Publications. She sees herself as a Spiritual person, very connected with life in all forms. She is happily married for past 20 years and currently lives in Sussex, UK. She enjoys healthy pursuits of country walks with a nice cuppa tea and chat at the end.

Resurrection by Suzanne Craig-Whytock

On the day that Budgie died, I was young and very sad. He was a pretty bird, always singing in his cage. Sometimes we let him out to fly around, and on that day, the curtains were wide open and he slammed into the glass hard. Momma put him into a shoe box and I cried as we buried him in the back garden among the lilies. The next morning, very early, I snuck out of the house and dug him up with a garden trowel because I wanted to see him one more time. When I took the lid off the shoe box, his eyes were open and his wings fluttered ...