A poem I wrote on the beach


Undergrowth, undertows ahead of fogging glasses and a sweaty nose.

Sand fills my shoes, falling between my toes. A mental reprieve from the undesirable tugs at my sleeve.

Freedom: a feeling uncommon like a eating unique variations of Ramen.

Another beautiful story to weave at the presence of life.

Imperfection is reality.

Lust leads to strife.

Twinkling eyes patrol the shores for twinkling toes. It’s Miami, I guess that’s how it goes. Who really knows?

Don’t mind me in my Bulbasaur tee chilling and writing this rhyme on my own time about the coastline.

Soul crushed by the magnitude of life.

Worst fears come true. In the mirror I see my value to you. No one. Nothing, but a man in the sand.

The ocean is grand.

Politics, fashion, wallets, degrees, purses, but in my ears – hip hop verses.

Speaking in syllables about real spit. Dinosaurs. Safe to say Lupe nailed it.

Trying to get my life scantly clad.

Too much clothes at the beach keeps us safe from the sun, but removing danger takes away an element of fun.

Another’s grind is like a wave hitting the shoreline.

The foam by my feet is mine, so why worry about thine or something as meaningless as time.

Let’s dance to seagulls.

Let’s wave to the clouds.

Let’s admire the ocean, be free and play music loud.

Solitude quenches solipsistic thoughts.

Hit the beach.

Play some jams.

Vibe out to Tidal. Wave. 👋

La vida es corta no te comparta como tu ropas son tu alma. Los edificios miran el mar con los ojos cerrados. Disfrutas nuestro corto tiempo humano.

Este poema es para todo el mundo. Specificamente mi hermanas y hermanos de bueno humor y interés extraño: juegos de video, amor de anime y amor de ciencia, animales, y vida. Salud y amor. Tenga buena suerte.🍀👍 👊

👍eautiful 👊edium

The sun sets over the ocean smiling at the apartments by the shore, illuminating smiles and beaks pecking at the sand for critters and snacks. 🍻🥰

Be free and happy random strangers. Frolic in the water.

Laugh, splash and carry on.

Your happiness is my favorite song.

In days when it hurts to exist and there’s only a void when you reminisce, remember this:

YOU CAN be at the beach. You don’t need permission to do as you please, as long as you’re not seeking to lie, cheat, steal, or manipulate how someone else thinks of you so you can get something you know they wouldn’t give you if you were your natural self. Don’t chase what it isn’t yours. Don’t want what isn’t yours.

Find your spot in the sand.

Don’t need to make it a demand.

Grab a towel, like, in your hand.

Hit the pier. Snap a photo that’s top tier, or enjoy the view with a beer.

Whether in a group or alone, you don’t need an excuse to roam, especially if the beach is close to home.

A poem simple short and sweet.

Gotta put my phone down since I’m about to eat.

Sitting on the sand writing stories by the sea.

Thanks for reading this poem by me.

– Mark Figueroa


The most recent chapter of Emerald Espeon is being revised. Working in the next one. Stay tuned. Thanks for reading.

Life should be this:




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