Uncharted Waters

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
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*I think this is possibly my first poem that can be worhty of the name of poetry. I might change my mind though:) Enjoy

Submitted: December 19, 2008

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Submitted: December 19, 2008

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If still waters run deep then I am the deepest of them all
I could dive into the depths of me and never find the end
Sometimes irreverently, indefinably I’m a misdemeanour;
A mere pond: aquiline and trepid. Longing with all its simple simplicity,
To be a waterfall
 
If still waters run deep then I’m the ocean at sea
Vast in a majority, a languid constant; still in its perpetual moving
Great shoals scatter through me as oblivious giants ripple my surface
Though I am moved by these cool creatures the whole cannot be changed
Still waters and me
 
If still waters run deep then my depths are murky and cold
No crystal clarity, no palm tree beauty or white sand purity
I am dappled in darkness and knotted reeds. Beauty in the rare sunlight,
That breaks and gleams in obsequious patches turning retractable brown
Into gold
 
If still waters run deep then in the depths of me still waters I should be
But the torrential crash and flood, the solitary ceaseless ebb and flow,
That resides: defers and denies the cool calmness, the stilted stillness
No, there are aqua-marine depths of tumult that hasten and recede,
Deeply and deeper within me
 
If uncharted waters still exist then liken me to their freedom
In its obscurity it owns the world. In its ceaseless blues and greens it is never owned
I’m an unending tempestuousness, secret caverns beneath the surface
Uncharted I exist in non-existence waiting for the effervescent day,
The rippling of my sea,
Where charted I will be


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