Posts: 771
Threads: 425
Joined: May 2014
Let's Pretend it's April - Nov. 16
Rules: Write a poem for LPiA on the topic or form described. Each poem should appear as a New Reply to this thread. The goal is to, at the end of the month, have written 30 poems for the month of November. (or one, or six, or fifteen) Prompts may be revisited at any time. All members are welcome.
Topic : Write a poem inspired by the Beach
Form : Any
Line requirements: 8 or more
Feel free to reply with comments or kudos as you wish.
Questions?
Posts: 405
Threads: 58
Joined: May 2022
I sit on the Delaware shore
my toes digging the sand. Above,
an osprey soars on speckled wing.
Tucked, it plunges with fierce precision
piercing the shimmering blue;
emerging with a meal of silver
gleaming, tight in his talon.
The raptor flies on beyond
the shriek and holler
of tanned children, playing
till they’ve had their fill,
nourished by every wave.
I admit, edited, but recycled.
Posts: 970
Threads: 226
Joined: Aug 2016
A much needed trip to the beach
Escaping the people who preach
She's on a blanket, I wanna spank it
Sunning that scrumptious peach
Sunning that scrumptious peach
Thinking of things she could teach
Lotioning oil letting me boil
Relaxing in reach, no need for speech
Relaxing in reach, no need for speech
Desire takes the form of a leech
My tongue is in trouble seeing the bubbles
For a big mouth bite of each
For a big mouth bite of each
On my knees as if to beseech
Teeth sinking in, id do this again
A much needed trip to the beach
A much-needed trip to the beach
Sunning that scrumptious peach
Relaxing in reach, no need for speech
But a big mouth bite of each
She laughed and called me a freak
Splashing sand at me kinda weak
I said her bum is making me dumb
She Then laughed and called me a geek
She Then laughed and called me a geek
So I pinched her and gave a tweak
The waves in her smile stretched on for miles
No need to speak playing it meek
No need to speak playing it meek
Positioned so I could peek
Im just a guy, hands on her thigh
Planting a kiss on each cheek
Planting a kiss on each cheek
I poked her with my beak
Swatting her hand splashing more sand
She laughed and called me a freak
She laughed and called me a freak
Then laughed and called me a geek
No need to speak playing it meek
Planting a kiss on each cheek
Peanut butter honey banana sandwiches
Posts: 11
Threads: 2
Joined: Nov 2025
Waves
Boats cluster on horizon with light rigs
ablaze—
scuttled shrimps netted from deep sea floor.
Sparks in the distance glow under the dunes,
red blaze
flushes faces, crisps mallows on sticks.
Sloshing sea clacks the shells and stones, dancing
star rays
tap-tumble on resculpting shore.
I listen, then breathe, watch life lights shimmer,
split gaze,
pulse slows, joy grows, in warm salt sprays.
Posts: 38
Threads: 6
Joined: Nov 2025
"Three Limericks About the Seaside"
A child on the beach, what a dear,
Said, “Mummy, let me bury you here!”
He buried her deep,
She started to weep,
Then drowned when the sea drew back near.
------
A swimmer who wandered too far
Felt a sting like the burn of a star.
He thrashed in the foam,
Too panicked to roam,
And sank while the jelly said "Ha!"
------
A couple who paddled with ease
Let their boat go slack in the breeze.
They bobbed in the deep,
In careless, calm sleep,
Till a tanker erased all their pleas.
Posts: 341
Threads: 204
Joined: May 2013
Sea Me
For as many traits shared
with my brother, the love
of the ocean ranks low.
Ocean lore, beach fires,
fresh fruit, and cocktails.
Not to forget a lack of dress code.
I feel absurd for not loving
more of the shore. In my youth
jumping into waves was a philosophy.
Blue memories of
lakes surrounded by snow after
an early spring hike with old friends.
That was all life's tragidies ago.
When brightness was an expectation.
Before circumstances sourced frustration.
With the sea waiting for me, I wonder.
Will I feel different this time?
Only one thing is impossible for God: To find any sense in any copyright law on the planet.
--mark twain
Bunx
Posts: 26
Threads: 3
Joined: Nov 2025
Trapped shores
Sand,
quicksand.
Sinking to drowning.
Pushed into water,
pulled down under.
Plundered in depths,
pressure building —
body on a thread,
oxygen barely left.
The shore,
a trap.
I, the victim.
Air
d
epleted,
life
exceeded.
Trapped shores
Sand,
quicksand.
Sinking to drowning.
Pushed into water,
pulled down under.
Plundered in depths,
pressure building —
body on a thread,
oxygen barely left.
The shore,
a trap.
I, the victim.
Air
d
epleted,
life
exceeded.
Trapped shores
Sand,
quicksand.
Sinking to drowning.
Pushed into water,
pulled down under.
Plundered in depths,
pressure building —
body on a thread,
oxygen barely left.
The shore,
a trap.
I, the victim.
Air
d
epleted,
life
exceeded.
Trapped shores
Sand,
quicksand.
Sinking to drowning.
Pushed into water,
pulled down under.
Plundered in depths,
pressure building —
body on a thread,
oxygen barely left.
The shore,
a trap.
I, the victim.
Air
d
epleted,
life
exceeded.
Trapped shores
Sand,
quicksand.
Sinking to drowning.
Pushed into water,
pulled down under.
Plundered in depths,
pressure building —
body on a thread,
oxygen barely left.
The shore,
a trap.
I, the victim.
Air
d
epleted,
life
exceeded.
I know that rhyme, rhythm, and meter are not academically standardized.
I am well aware of that, yet I primarily do free verse, and it's based on instinctual writing.
I try to avoid academic language or structure. My poems are not meant to convey a single answer.
I try to convey the unknown through minimalism, mostly dense short stanzas with many line breaks.
If you'd give a critique, please keep this in mind.
Posts: 1,215
Threads: 250
Joined: Nov 2015
Unalysis
Don’t be so analytical, my friend.
A beach has width and length, but which is which?
To walk from cliff to tide’s not end to end,
but neither is from pier to next boat-hitch.
Beach shrinks and waxes as the arching Moon
conducts crescendos, rising, rolling surf.
Too late we come and beach has drowned; too soon,
and Ocean has left only shingled turf.
Come, walk with me, you undistinguished man!
Feel granulated time grit in-between
your crabby toes, breathe salt without a plan.
Be neither wise nor fool, fish-fouled nor clean.
 Non-practicing atheist
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