I once saw a swimmer who swam all the way from the dock to the shore. It was about a mile and he almost drowned, but I was surpised anyway, knowing that he was blind.
The clear water splashed over his strong muscles, gliding around the curves in his back and the bones poking out just under his shoulders. The suit always felt so snug. She couldn’t help but stare as he climbed out of the pool. Nothing was left to the imagination. The suit hugged around his goods in ways that she wished she could. When he noticed her, she waved her fingers, but just like every other time, his eyes seemed to widen, his face went red and he retreated. She’d win him over someday, even if it killed her.
She was a goddess. Never had I seen someone move so fluidly through the water, barely creating ripples as she moved forward. Enthralled, I watched. Her tiny bottoms were bunching in all the right places. When she finally finished her lap of the pool and pulled herself from the water my jaw nearly hit the floor. She, was a he. Whoops.
He flew through the water with an erotic description.
But that wasn’t actually important.
It was the feeling he felt,
not his outward appearance,
that made him dive in once more
and find himself in the abyss.
Diana Nyad or something like that – the sixty year old woman who decided she wanted to swim from Cuba to Florida just to prove it could be done… an extremely impressive woman who is also a very eloquent speaker. I don’t know if I could have done what she did. No, I do know… I could NOT have done what she did – for any amount of money or any other reason.
Janice Robertson
The water was cold but she was used to that – every morning she got up early to swim. Every morning she needed to be in the water, be part of the sea. Had she been born with fins? She didn’t know but she needed to swim like others need food.
Eb
To nie był taki pływak jak pozostali. Wystartował jeszcze przed początkiem zawodów. Zanim ktokolwiek zdążył się zorientować, on już pędził. Po co? Dokąd? Kto wie? Może tęsknił? Jak ja?
jaś
i may be a fuck up
mixed up roughed up
smiled smiles smirked
and i thought of curves
liked you too fast
that’s my problem
rebounding excessively
never quite making sense
almost kinda forgetting
how bad it was the last time
swimmer swimming in a blank
empty space
forgetting foreboding
for you, for me,
fuck it,
matt m
I love to swim so much. When i was little i used to swim so much my family always said i was meant to be a fish. I would spend all day in our pool during the summer and only get out to eat dinner or to get my friends to come swim with me. those were the best days of my life and i miss them.
Jessie Cox
“you’re a snowflake”
so unique
similar, yes but — special
not exactly.
more like water or,
better still,
one of many swimmers
all pulled by the same current
all heading downstream.
she wasn’t a strong swimmer.
they called out to her though,
and she was a good listener.
just a little farther.
you can see the shore line still.
just a little farther.
you can see still.
just a little farther.
the sun shines through the water.
And with each stroke of the arm and deep breath inhaled before penetrating the liquid cement, Thomas grew more tired yet determined to reach the shore, knowing full and well the fatal consequence he must face if he does not make it in time.
Kaitlyn
“You’re a great swimmer,” She gushed, poking his glistening abs with her index finger. Beck chuckled and glanced down at the petite redhead who had an oh so obvious crush on him.
“Thanks, Cat. You’re not so bad yourself.” A blush colored her cheeks as she smiled, and he hooked an arm around her. Maybe in a way he was leading her on, but then again she was a bit too ditzy to even realize. “You want some ice cream?”
She laughed and jumped up and down. “Of course! Who do you think I am?”
Ana's Bananas
i remember trying to swim once, it was a majestical experience. until that one dude named scott tried to drown me. i screamed like a girl and eventually dudes pulled him off me and i cried. but i made sure i looked tough and cute u know? so i wouldn’t scare off all the girls, end of story
i got so laid :)
Down, down deeper still. With you, I’d go anywhere. I only wish you felt the same. If you knew how much I wanted this, the desire for air would be the least of your pains.
swimming is a painful, brutal, monotonous. i dont enjoy it but i do my coach ignores me iam discouraged and upset but i cant quit kate says shes being ignored but she ignores me the water is something that can kill humans yet we compete to see who can move through it the fastest its both completely idiotic and brave.
Gus
¿Nadar? ¿En serio? Ojalá supiera inglés de verdad para escribir sobre nadar en inglés…
¿Nadar? ¿Construis castillos de arena? Jamás contuí castillos de arena. Nunca fui una niña de mar, pero sí de arena: arena sobre mis pies. Arena entre mis dedos, arena mojada que me recuerda quizás algún origen. Era la niña de las orillas, amante y nunca hija de la espuma.
Arena amarilla, amarilla que ciega y nunca azul.
Cecilia
Swimming, ever faster but getting pulled out farther and farther. Past the buoy, past the seagulls, past the speed boats breaking speed records. The drag gets stronger, the pull doesn’t fade. Past the shipping channels and the blue whales. In to the heaps of garbage, and over the edge of the world.
A lone swimmer walked down the beach, gingerly stepping through the rocks. His dog bounded about more playfully, chasing and biting the waves. Jill watched the sun creep behind the horizon, and as its final shimmer dipped below the waterline, she threw the engagement ring out into the ocean.
tonykeyesjapan
My head bobbed up and down from underneath the water. Okay, it wasn’t my fault that I was shit at this. No one exactly taught me how to swim when I was younger. I struggled to keep my head up; I could slowly feel my lungs burning from the sting of captivated air. I’m not a swimmer, at all, and that’s something that I can’t help. I gasped for air, only to have more water fill my mouth and lungs, and I couldn’t keep myself from choking and falling deeper into the darkness.
Then, a hand grabbed mine. Just as the darkness crept at the corners of my vision and it felt as if my lungs were about to burst, I was pulled into the blinding light, a pair or firm arms cradling my small body as if I weighed nothing. Yeah, one hell of a swimmer I am.
Emily
Swimmers make their way through the water like we make our way through life. The tide is often against them, but they take one stroke at a time in order to make their way to where they need to be. God, that was like the most cliche thing ever. I’ve been having such writer’s block lately. I just want to be able to spill my guts to a piece of paper like I used to. Ugh.
Alex Lipinski
She always told me she was a swimmer. “It’s explains the arms muscles” She said, stroking her lean tan arms. “And the legs,” she bends down, nearly touching her toes.
I always liked swimmers. I never liked the ocean, but swimmers could never be beat.
I never learned how to swim. Not well, not ever. He was a great swimmer, his legs moving like a frog’s in the water. I stood in the shallows up to my ankles, arms clutched over my bikini body as if I could hide, and watched him just – glide. He beckoned to me eventually. Come in, come in – and I did – if he held me –
Ella Emma Em
Graceful, you catch my attention. Water rises as your arms connect with the liquid surface.
We were drowning. We were drowning. We were drowning. And then there you were. The only person I knew who could swim; the only person I knew who could save my life. I never knew how you did it, but you always did. You took a deep breath and you dove and you lived, and that was all I ever wanted.
Through perilous storms and currents more ferocious then sharks the swimmer had persevered, it was the last stretch, land was in sight. Every breath was precious, difficult extremely vital. Every muscle in his body was aching and yearned for rest and nourishment. Would it come?
Jose
He had just the one chance, he reckoned, to escape across the lake to Switzerland. The full moon was not going to help. He would have rather crossed in absolute darkness, but he was running short of time. There could be no turning back.
Allow me to swim in the translucent pool of melted chocolate that are your irises
and weave through the lustrous flecks of umber that adorn them.
Permit me to bathe in the beauty of your bashful one-sided grin
and lounge on the thought of your lips, which spill with words of stammering grace.
Watch me wade in the feel of your skin, softer than silk and warmer than velvet
and flawed with lovely blemishes and story-telling scars and speckled constellations of freckles.
See me drown in the thought and the feel and the perfection of you.
“And here to cut the ribbon on the Treemont Foundation’s Official Olympic Training Pool is two time gold medalist and all around renowned swimmer, Akayla Harrington!”
Soon I’ll be the strongest swimmer in the world.
The ocean is just too small to hold me back.
Just pushing the water beneath me and reaching
to be moving…
I’m full of that sweet song
The tune without knowing
to carry across water
Engel
oh that boy that swimming boy he’s like a fish out of water when he’s in a crowd. my swimming boy he tries to escape as often as he can but he does seem able to do so without taking someone with him. he thinks he’s strong and brave, my swimming boy, but he’s alone and needy and sweet and even if he doesn’t realize that, all the rest of us do.
once upon a time a swimmer chose to do he right thing and now he watches his brother win gold medals in the olympics. such a sweet coincidence
amy
Swimming alone was always so refreshing to Alec. Whenever he was one with the water everything just seemed clear. Nothing seemed impossible, and everything could be sorted out in his head.
Swimming, I don’t know exactly what I like about it. I guess because it feels like flying, flying in a world without problems. Flying away of everything which just pulls you down.
Kicking through the blue. It’s one of those endless days of summer in the last two weeks before school… If it were up to me, I’d just keep swimming until the chlorine bleaches my skin.
Deep breaths in out in out. Go under water and hold breath. This is the repetitive routine i go through every day in the pool. Goggles on swim cap on, never forget to be ready, when the whistle blows.
I once saw a swimmer who swam all the way from the dock to the shore. It was about a mile and he almost drowned, but I was surpised anyway, knowing that he was blind.
Swimming is really great skill that every must learn. It has lot of benefits and advantages. It’s not easy to master the skill. It need
The clear water splashed over his strong muscles, gliding around the curves in his back and the bones poking out just under his shoulders. The suit always felt so snug. She couldn’t help but stare as he climbed out of the pool. Nothing was left to the imagination. The suit hugged around his goods in ways that she wished she could. When he noticed her, she waved her fingers, but just like every other time, his eyes seemed to widen, his face went red and he retreated. She’d win him over someday, even if it killed her.
She was a goddess. Never had I seen someone move so fluidly through the water, barely creating ripples as she moved forward. Enthralled, I watched. Her tiny bottoms were bunching in all the right places. When she finally finished her lap of the pool and pulled herself from the water my jaw nearly hit the floor. She, was a he. Whoops.
He flew through the water with an erotic description.
But that wasn’t actually important.
It was the feeling he felt,
not his outward appearance,
that made him dive in once more
and find himself in the abyss.
Diana Nyad or something like that – the sixty year old woman who decided she wanted to swim from Cuba to Florida just to prove it could be done… an extremely impressive woman who is also a very eloquent speaker. I don’t know if I could have done what she did. No, I do know… I could NOT have done what she did – for any amount of money or any other reason.
The water was cold but she was used to that – every morning she got up early to swim. Every morning she needed to be in the water, be part of the sea. Had she been born with fins? She didn’t know but she needed to swim like others need food.
To nie był taki pływak jak pozostali. Wystartował jeszcze przed początkiem zawodów. Zanim ktokolwiek zdążył się zorientować, on już pędził. Po co? Dokąd? Kto wie? Może tęsknił? Jak ja?
i may be a fuck up
mixed up roughed up
smiled smiles smirked
and i thought of curves
liked you too fast
that’s my problem
rebounding excessively
never quite making sense
almost kinda forgetting
how bad it was the last time
swimmer swimming in a blank
empty space
forgetting foreboding
for you, for me,
fuck it,
I love to swim so much. When i was little i used to swim so much my family always said i was meant to be a fish. I would spend all day in our pool during the summer and only get out to eat dinner or to get my friends to come swim with me. those were the best days of my life and i miss them.
“you’re a snowflake”
so unique
similar, yes but — special
not exactly.
more like water or,
better still,
one of many swimmers
all pulled by the same current
all heading downstream.
she wasn’t a strong swimmer.
they called out to her though,
and she was a good listener.
just a little farther.
you can see the shore line still.
just a little farther.
you can see still.
just a little farther.
the sun shines through the water.
And with each stroke of the arm and deep breath inhaled before penetrating the liquid cement, Thomas grew more tired yet determined to reach the shore, knowing full and well the fatal consequence he must face if he does not make it in time.
“You’re a great swimmer,” She gushed, poking his glistening abs with her index finger. Beck chuckled and glanced down at the petite redhead who had an oh so obvious crush on him.
“Thanks, Cat. You’re not so bad yourself.” A blush colored her cheeks as she smiled, and he hooked an arm around her. Maybe in a way he was leading her on, but then again she was a bit too ditzy to even realize. “You want some ice cream?”
She laughed and jumped up and down. “Of course! Who do you think I am?”
i remember trying to swim once, it was a majestical experience. until that one dude named scott tried to drown me. i screamed like a girl and eventually dudes pulled him off me and i cried. but i made sure i looked tough and cute u know? so i wouldn’t scare off all the girls, end of story
i got so laid :)
Down, down deeper still. With you, I’d go anywhere. I only wish you felt the same. If you knew how much I wanted this, the desire for air would be the least of your pains.
a swimmer in the galaxies
of eyes split and torn, windows
of roots mangled and hesitant to grow.
she dives right in.
She scanned the ocean for any sign of the missing swimmer. Maybe his body will turn up n a few days.
swimming is a painful, brutal, monotonous. i dont enjoy it but i do my coach ignores me iam discouraged and upset but i cant quit kate says shes being ignored but she ignores me the water is something that can kill humans yet we compete to see who can move through it the fastest its both completely idiotic and brave.
¿Nadar? ¿En serio? Ojalá supiera inglés de verdad para escribir sobre nadar en inglés…
¿Nadar? ¿Construis castillos de arena? Jamás contuí castillos de arena. Nunca fui una niña de mar, pero sí de arena: arena sobre mis pies. Arena entre mis dedos, arena mojada que me recuerda quizás algún origen. Era la niña de las orillas, amante y nunca hija de la espuma.
Arena amarilla, amarilla que ciega y nunca azul.
Swimming, ever faster but getting pulled out farther and farther. Past the buoy, past the seagulls, past the speed boats breaking speed records. The drag gets stronger, the pull doesn’t fade. Past the shipping channels and the blue whales. In to the heaps of garbage, and over the edge of the world.
A lone swimmer walked down the beach, gingerly stepping through the rocks. His dog bounded about more playfully, chasing and biting the waves. Jill watched the sun creep behind the horizon, and as its final shimmer dipped below the waterline, she threw the engagement ring out into the ocean.
My head bobbed up and down from underneath the water. Okay, it wasn’t my fault that I was shit at this. No one exactly taught me how to swim when I was younger. I struggled to keep my head up; I could slowly feel my lungs burning from the sting of captivated air. I’m not a swimmer, at all, and that’s something that I can’t help. I gasped for air, only to have more water fill my mouth and lungs, and I couldn’t keep myself from choking and falling deeper into the darkness.
Then, a hand grabbed mine. Just as the darkness crept at the corners of my vision and it felt as if my lungs were about to burst, I was pulled into the blinding light, a pair or firm arms cradling my small body as if I weighed nothing. Yeah, one hell of a swimmer I am.
Swimmers make their way through the water like we make our way through life. The tide is often against them, but they take one stroke at a time in order to make their way to where they need to be. God, that was like the most cliche thing ever. I’ve been having such writer’s block lately. I just want to be able to spill my guts to a piece of paper like I used to. Ugh.
She always told me she was a swimmer. “It’s explains the arms muscles” She said, stroking her lean tan arms. “And the legs,” she bends down, nearly touching her toes.
I always liked swimmers. I never liked the ocean, but swimmers could never be beat.
I never learned how to swim. Not well, not ever. He was a great swimmer, his legs moving like a frog’s in the water. I stood in the shallows up to my ankles, arms clutched over my bikini body as if I could hide, and watched him just – glide. He beckoned to me eventually. Come in, come in – and I did – if he held me –
Graceful, you catch my attention. Water rises as your arms connect with the liquid surface.
We were drowning. We were drowning. We were drowning. And then there you were. The only person I knew who could swim; the only person I knew who could save my life. I never knew how you did it, but you always did. You took a deep breath and you dove and you lived, and that was all I ever wanted.
swimmer, swammer, spammer, bum; Bimmer, bammer, fun; finer, funner, fanned-out’ done
Through perilous storms and currents more ferocious then sharks the swimmer had persevered, it was the last stretch, land was in sight. Every breath was precious, difficult extremely vital. Every muscle in his body was aching and yearned for rest and nourishment. Would it come?
He had just the one chance, he reckoned, to escape across the lake to Switzerland. The full moon was not going to help. He would have rather crossed in absolute darkness, but he was running short of time. There could be no turning back.
Allow me to swim in the translucent pool of melted chocolate that are your irises
and weave through the lustrous flecks of umber that adorn them.
Permit me to bathe in the beauty of your bashful one-sided grin
and lounge on the thought of your lips, which spill with words of stammering grace.
Watch me wade in the feel of your skin, softer than silk and warmer than velvet
and flawed with lovely blemishes and story-telling scars and speckled constellations of freckles.
See me drown in the thought and the feel and the perfection of you.
“And here to cut the ribbon on the Treemont Foundation’s Official Olympic Training Pool is two time gold medalist and all around renowned swimmer, Akayla Harrington!”
Soon I’ll be the strongest swimmer in the world.
The ocean is just too small to hold me back.
Just pushing the water beneath me and reaching
to be moving…
I’m full of that sweet song
The tune without knowing
to carry across water
oh that boy that swimming boy he’s like a fish out of water when he’s in a crowd. my swimming boy he tries to escape as often as he can but he does seem able to do so without taking someone with him. he thinks he’s strong and brave, my swimming boy, but he’s alone and needy and sweet and even if he doesn’t realize that, all the rest of us do.
once upon a time a swimmer chose to do he right thing and now he watches his brother win gold medals in the olympics. such a sweet coincidence
Swimming alone was always so refreshing to Alec. Whenever he was one with the water everything just seemed clear. Nothing seemed impossible, and everything could be sorted out in his head.
Swimming, I don’t know exactly what I like about it. I guess because it feels like flying, flying in a world without problems. Flying away of everything which just pulls you down.
Kicking through the blue. It’s one of those endless days of summer in the last two weeks before school… If it were up to me, I’d just keep swimming until the chlorine bleaches my skin.
Deep breaths in out in out. Go under water and hold breath. This is the repetitive routine i go through every day in the pool. Goggles on swim cap on, never forget to be ready, when the whistle blows.