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Famous Short Ocean Poems

Famous Short Ocean Poems. Short Ocean Poetry by Famous Poets. A collection of the all-time best Ocean short poems


by Robert Frost
 The heart can think of no devotion
Greater than being shore to the ocean--
Holding the curve of one position,
Counting an endless repetition.



by Edgar Allan Poe
 Seraph! thy memory is to me
Like some enchanted far-off isle
In some tumultuous sea -
Some ocean vexed as it may be
With storms; but where, meanwhile,
Serenest skies continually
Just o'er that one bright island smile.
For 'mid the earnest cares and woes That crowd around my earthly path, (Sad path, alas, where grows Not even one lonely rose!) My soul at least a solace hath In dreams of thee; and therein knows An Eden of bland repose.

by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
 SILENCE deep rules o'er the waters,

Calmly slumb'ring lies the main,
While the sailor views with trouble

Nought but one vast level plain.
Not a zephyr is in motion! Silence fearful as the grave! In the mighty waste of ocean Sunk to rest is ev'ry wave.
1795.

by Charles Bukowski
 I met a genius on the train
today
about 6 years old,
he sat beside me
and as the train 
ran down along the coast
we came to the ocean
and then he looked at me
and said,
it's not pretty.
it was the first time I'd realized that.

by Robert Bly
All day I loved you in a fever holding on to the tail of the horse.
I overflowed whenever I reached out to touch you.
My hand moved over your body covered With its dress Burning rough an animal's hand or foot moving over leaves.
The rainstorm retires clouds open sunlight sliding over ocean water a thousand miles from land.



by Walter Savage Landor
 Well I remember how you smiled
To see me write your name upon
The soft sea-sand .
.
.
"O! what a child! You think you're writing upon stone!" I have since written what no tide Shall ever wash away, what men Unborn shall read o'er ocean wide And find Ianthe's name again.

Time  Create an image from this poem
by Percy Bysshe Shelley
 Unfathomable Sea! whose waves are years,
Ocean of Time, whose waters of deep woe
Are brackish with the salt of human tears!
Thou shoreless flood, which in thy ebb and flow
Claspest the limits of mortality,
And sick of prey, yet howling on for more,
Vomitest thy wrecks on its inhospitable shore;
Treacherous in calm, and terrible in storm,
Who shall put forth on thee,
Unfathomable Sea?

by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
 FLOW on, ye lays so loved, so fair,

On to Oblivion's ocean flow!
May no rapt boy recall you e'er,

No maiden in her beauty's glow!

My love alone was then your theme,

But now she scorns my passion true.
Ye were but written in the stream; As it flows on, then, flow ye too! 1798.
*

by Vasko Popa
 Look here's that uninvited
Alien presence look it's here

A shudder on the ocean of tea in the cup
Rust taking hold
On the edges of our laughter
A snake coiled in the depths of the mirror

Will I be able to hide you
From your face in mine

Look it's the third shadow
On our imagined walk
Unexpected abyss
Between our words
Hoofs clattering
Below the vaults of our palates

Will I be able
On this unrest-field
To raise you a tent of my hands

by Robert Graves
 Louder than gulls the little children scream 
Whom fathers haul into the jovial foam; 
But others fearlessly rush in, breast high, 
Laughing the salty water from their mouthes-- 
Heroes of the nursery.
The horny boatman, who has seen whales And flying fishes, who has sailed as far As Demerara and the Ivory Coast, Will warn them, when they crowd to hear his tales, That every ocean smells of tar.

by Emily Dickinson
 The Drop, that wrestles in the Sea --
Forgets her own locality --
As I -- toward Thee --

She knows herself an incense small --
Yet small -- she sighs -- if All -- is All --
How larger -- be?

The Ocean -- smiles -- at her Conceit --
But she, forgetting Amphitrite --
Pleads -- "Me"?

by Katherine Mansfield
 In the profoundest ocean
There is a rainbow shell,
It is always there, shining most stilly
Under the greatest storm waves
That the old Greek called "ripples of laughter.
" As you listen, the rainbow shell Sings--in the profoundest ocean.
It is always there, singing most silently!

by Osip Mandelstam
 She has not yet been born:
she is music and word,
and therefore the untorn,
fabric of what is stirred.
Silent the ocean breathes.
Madly day’s glitter roams.
Spray of pale lilac foams, in a bowl of grey-blue leaves.
May my lips rehearse the primordial silence, like a note of crystal clearness, sounding, pure from birth! Stay as foam Aphrodite – Art – and return, Word, where music begins: and, fused with life’s origins, be ashamed heart, of heart!

by George (Lord) Byron
 There be none of Beauty's daughters
With a magic like Thee;
And like music on the waters
Is thy sweet voice to me:
When, as if its sound were causing
The charm?d ocean's pausing,
The waves lie still and gleaming,
And the lull'd winds seem dreaming:
And the midnight moon is weaving
Her bright chain o'er the deep,
Whose breast is gently heaving
As an infant's asleep:
So the spirit bows before thee
To listen and adore thee;
With a full but soft emotion,
Like the swell of Summer's ocean.

by George (Lord) Byron
 There be none of Beauty's daughters
With a magic like thee;
And like music on the waters
Is thy sweet voice to me:
When, as if its sound were causing
The charmed ocean's pausing,
The waves lie still and gleaming,
And the lulled winds seem dreaming;

And the midnight moon is weaving
Her bright chain o'er the deep,
Whose breast is gently heaving
As an infant's asleep:
So the spirit bows before thee,
To listen and adore thee,
With a full but soft emotion,
Like the swell of Summer's ocean.

by Wanda Phipps
 I close my eyes
and there it is
a concrete walkway
leading out of a
small village
hugging the sides
of a green green
tree filled mountainside
and to the right
a pipe railing
paited the color
of oxidized metaland even firther
to my right
a small beach
costline-an ocean
all under a pale blue sky
all there when my eyelids
close and the shutters open

by Thomas Edward Brown
 If thou could'st empty all thyself of self, 
Like to a shell dishabited,
Then might He find thee on the ocean shelf, 
And say, "This is not dead,"
And fill thee with Himself instead.
But thou are all replete with very thou And hast such shrewd activity, That when He comes He says, "This is enow Unto itself - 'twere better let it be, It is so small and full, there is no room for me.
"

by Carl Sandburg
 RINGS of iron gray smoke; a woman’s steel face … looking … looking.
Funnels of an ocean liner negotiating a fog night; pouring a taffy mass down the wind; layers of soot on the top deck; a taffrail … and a woman’s steel face … looking … looking.
Cliffs challenge humped; sudden arcs form on a gull’s wing in the storm’s vortex; miles of white horses plow through a stony beach; stars, clear sky, and everywhere free climbers calling; and a woman’s steel face … looking … looking …

by Eugene Field
 The image of the moon at night
All trembling in the ocean lies,
But she, with calm and steadfast light,
Moves proudly through the radiant skies,

How like the tranquil moon thou art--
Thou fairest flower of womankind!
And, look, within my fluttering heart
Thy image trembling is enshrined!

by Victor Hugo
 Where are the hapless shipmen?—disappeared, 
 Gone down, where witness none, save Night, hath been, 
 Ye deep, deep waves, of kneeling mothers feared, 
 What dismal tales know ye of things unseen? 
 Tales that ye tell your whispering selves between 
 The while in clouds to the flood-tide ye pour; 
 And this it is that gives you, as I ween, 
 Those mournful voices, mournful evermore, 
 When ye come in at eve to us who dwell on shore. 


 





by Jack Spicer
 This ocean, humiliating in its disguises
Tougher than anything.
No one listens to poetry.
The ocean Does not mean to be listened to.
A drop Or crash of water.
It means Nothing.
It Is bread and butter Pepper and salt.
The death That young men hope for.
Aimlessly It pounds the shore.
White and aimless signals.
No One listens to poetry.

by Robinson Jeffers
The storm-dances of gulls, the barking game of seals,
Over and under the ocean .
.
.
Divinely superfluous beauty Rules the games, presides over destinies, makes trees grow And hills tower, waves fall.
The incredible beauty of joy Stars with fire the joining of lips, O let our loves too Be joined, there is not a maiden Burns and thirsts for love More than my blood for you, by the shore of seals while the wings Weave like a web in the air Divinely superfluous beauty.

by Stevie Smith
 Sisely
Walked so nicely
With footsteps so discreet
To see her pass
You'd never guess
She walked upon the street.
Down where the Liffey waters' turgid flood Churns up to greet the ocean-driven mud, A bruiser in fix Murdered her for 6/6.

by Stephen Crane
 The ocean said to me once,
"Look!
Yonder on the shore
Is a woman, weeping.
I have watched her.
Go you and tell her this -- Her lover I have laid In cool green hall.
There is wealth of golden sand And pillars, coral-red; Two white fish stand guard at his bier.
"Tell her this And more -- That the king of the seas Weeps too, old, helpless man.
The bustling fates Heap his hands with corpses Until he stands like a child With a surplus of toys.
"

by Eugene Field
 What perfumed, posie-dizened sirrah,
With smiles for diet,
Clasps you, O fair but faithless Pyrrha,
On the quiet?
For whom do you bind up your tresses,
As spun-gold yellow,--
Meshes that go, with your caresses,
To snare a fellow?

How will he rail at fate capricious,
And curse you duly!
Yet now he deems your wiles delicious,
You perfect, truly!
Pyrrha, your love's a treacherous ocean;
He'll soon fall in there!
Then shall I gloat on his commotion,
For I have been there!


Book: Reflection on the Important Things