A paddle here, a paddle there -- the canoe stays still.
Sierra Leonean proverbs
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
Whatever Happened To Pong?
My brother and me used to play it
Down at the bar
Taking money from guys
More used to the playing of cards
Paddle the paddle to the side to the side
To the side to the side to the paddle the paddle
Paddle the paddle the side to the side
Pong
Ball in the machine
Now virtually everyones singing
A popular song
But I still believe in
In the excellent joy of the pong
To the side to the side to the paddle the paddle
To the paddle the paddle the side to the side
To the side to the side to the paddle the paddle
Pong
Ball in the machine
Now if they take it h.g. wells
Well, Ill be on the first flight
To a time before the kong
Whatever happended to pong?
Paddle the paddle to the side to the side
To the side to the side to the paddle the paddle
Paddle the paddle the side to the side
Pong
Ball in the machine
song performed by by Frank Black
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Paddle together, bail, paddle; paddle, bail; paddle towards the land.
Paddle Your Boat
Paddle, paddle, paddle your boat!
But gently across the stream of love;
For there is something sweet inside you for your lover,
And this boat of love will lead you there.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
You don't paddle against the current, you paddle with it. And if you get good at it, you throw away the oars.
quote by Kris Kristofferson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Love many, trust few and always paddle your own canoe.
The Song my Paddle Sings
West wind, blow from your prairie nest,
Blow from the mountains, blow from the west
The sail is idle, the sailor too ;
O! wind of the west, we wait for you.
Blow, blow!
I have wooed you so,
But never a favour you bestow.
You rock your cradle the hills between,
But scorn to notice my white lateen.
I stow the sail, unship the mast :
I wooed you long but my wooing's past ;
My paddle will lull you into rest.
O! drowsy wind of the drowsy west,
Sleep, sleep,
By your mountain steep,
Or down where the prairie grasses sweep!
Now fold in slumber your laggard wings,
For soft is the song my paddle sings.
August is laughing across the sky,
Laughing while paddle, canoe and I,
Drift, drift,
Where the hills uplift
On either side of the current swift.
The river rolls in its rocky bed ;
My paddle is plying its way ahead ;
Dip, dip,
While the water flip
In foam as over their breast we slip.
And oh, the river runs swifter now ;
The eddies circle about my bow.
Swirl, swirl!
How the ripples curl
In many a dangerous pool awhirl!
And forward far the rapids roar,
Fretting their margin for evermore.
Dash, dash,
With a mighty crash,
They seethe, and boil, and bound, and splash.
Be strong, O paddle! be brave, canoe!
The reckless waves you must plunge into.
Reel, reel.
On your trembling keel,
But never a fear my craft will feel.
We've raced the rapid, we're far ahead!
The river slips through its silent bed.
Sway, sway,
As the bubbles spray
And fall in tinkling tunes away.
And up on the hills against the sky,
A fir tree rocking its lullaby,
Swings, swings,
Its emerald wings,
Swelling the song that my paddle sings.
poem by Emily Pauline Johnson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
There Is The Moon And I Have This Boat And A Paddle
there is this full moon tonight
and i have this sailboat and this paddle
the river is still and the night is silent
on the glassy water this boat slides
and this paddle moves me slowly
on the other side where you are there
scented by the sampaguitas and
for me patiently waiting..............
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Dog Paddle
I'm down on the water
(I'm down on the water)
I don't know so I don't bother.
(I don't know so I don't bother)
Looking out the window of my dad's old Chevy.
(Lookin' out the window of my dad's old Chevy.)
Eats a lot of gas cause it's that more heavy.
(Eats a lot of gas cause it's that more heavy.)
I'm down on the county line and,
(We're all down on the county line.)
We're all screamin' Carolina.
(We're all screamin' Carolina.)
I'm down on the water.
(I'm down on the water)
We don't like what we just saw but...
(We don't like what we just saw but...)
I can't swim so I dog paddle.
(I can't swim so I dog paddle.)
I can't swim so I dog paddle.
I eat? (?) inside it feels like murder.
I can't swim so I dog paddle.
I can't swim so I DOG PADDLE.
I'm down on the water.
(I'm down on the water)
I don't know so I don't bother.
(We don't got no meat to swallow.)
Lookin' out the window of my dad's old Chevy.
(I can't swim so I dog paddle.)
Eats a lot of gas cause it's that more heavy.
(...(?)... inside it feels like murder)
I'm down on the county line and.
We're all singin Carolina.
(I can't swim so I dog paddle [repeated])
We're down on the county line again.
We're all screaming Caroline again.
What you say and what you want again.
You can't get it cuz you don't get it. No.
(i'm down on the water..)
song performed by by Modest Mouse
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Re-voyage
What of the days when we two dreamed together?
Days marvellously fair,
As lightsome as a skyward floating feather
Sailing on summer air--
Summer, summer, that came drifting through
Fate's hand to me, to you.
What of the days, my dear? I sometimes wonder
If you too wish this sky
Could be the blue we sailed so softly under,
In that sun-kissed July;
Sailed in the warm and yellow afternoon,
With hearts in touch and tune.
Have you no longing to re-live the dreaming,
Adrift in my canoe?
To watch my paddle blade all wet and gleaming
Cleaving the waters through?
To lie wind-blown and wave-caressed, until
Your restless pulse grows still?
Do you not long to listen to the purling
Of foam athwart the keel?
To hear the nearing rapids softly swirling
Among their stones, to feel
The boat's unsteady tremor as it braves
The wild and snarling waves?
What need of question, what of your replying?
Oh! well I know that you
Would toss the world away to be but lying
Again in my canoe,
In listless indolence entranced and lost,
Wave-rocked, and passion tossed.
Ah me! my paddle failed me in the steering
Across love's shoreless seas;
All reckless, I had ne'er a thought of fearing
Such dreary days as these,
When through the self-same rapids we dash by,
My lone canoe and I.
poem by Emily Pauline Johnson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Inside This Boat...
paddle your way
take the boat
do not mind the
waves of this sea
focus on the
coconut island
where the women
are dancing
where the men
are drinking wine
let your hands
be strong
your mind as sharp
as your spear
let your patience
be like the sun
let yourself be open
like an edgeless
horizon
paddle your way
into the waters of fate
out there
after this darkness
the kindness of light
and the opulence of
air
wait for you...
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Paddling bully
In the seventh grade I had a bully for a teacher.
He was ugly and he was indeed a horrible creature.
He gave paddlings and that really got us kids annoyed.
He'd smile when he paddled because it was something he enjoyed.
He gave over twenty paddlings a day.
Even if we did no wrong, he'd paddle us anyway.
One afternoon all I did was speak to a friend.
My teacher hit me seven times on the rearend.
It really hurt when he hit me with his paddle.
A lot of kids don't squeal but I decided to tattle.
I told my uncle who stands 7'3' and weighs 250 pounds.
He said he was going to visit my school and that my teacher was going down.
My uncle told my teacher that he had no right to paddle me just because I talked.
Then he broke all of my teacher's limbs and he couldn't even walk.
I got a new teacher and I said Hooray!
My former teacher decided to stop teaching on that very day.
poem by Randy Johnson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Without A Paddle
Im lost without A paddle on this river of life/
Where it will lead me no one knows/
but one thing is undeniable as i get older my outlook and intelect on life steadily grows/
Ill never be fake never pose/
this river is long and very rough/
But on it i will stay till my bodies had enough/
or till the day im tken away in those cold metal cuffs/
But if thers one thing i know/
IM WITHOUT A PADDLE WHILE THE RIVER CONINUES TO FLOW
THIS IS THE SECOND POEM I EVER WROTE TELL ME IF \YOU LIKE
poem by Jason Decker
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Red Canoe
De win' is sleepin' in de pine, but O! de
night is black!
An' all day long de loon bird cry on Lac Waya-
gamack-
No light is shinin' by de shore for helpin' steer
heem t'roo
W'en out upon de night, Ubalde he tak' de
red canoe.
I hear de paddle dip, dip, dip! wance more I
hear de loon-
I feel de breeze was show de way for storm
dat 's comin' soon,
An' den de sky fly open wit' de lightning
splittin' t'roo-
An' 'way beyon' de point I see de leetle red
canoe.
It 's dark again, but lissen how across Waya-
gamack
De tonder 's roarin' loud, an' now de mount-
ains answer back-
I wonder wit' de noise lak dat, he hear me, le
bon Dieu
W'en on ma knee I ax Heem save de leetle red
canoe!
Is dat a voice, so far away, it die upon ma hear?
Or only win' was foolin' me, an' w'isperin'
'Belzemire?'
Yaas, yaas, Ubalde, your Belzemire she 's
prayin' hard for you-
An' den again de lightning come, but w'ere 's
de red canoe?
Dey say I 'm mad, dem foolish folk, cos w'en
de night is black
An' w'en de wave lak snow-dreef come on Lac
Wayagamack
I tak' de place w'ere long ago we use to sit, us
two,
An' wait until de lightning bring de leetle red
canoe.
poem by William Henry Drummond
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Lake of the Dismal Swamp
'THEY made her a grave too cold and damp
For a soul so warm and true;
And she's gone to the Lake of the Dismal Swamp,
Where all night long, by a firefly lamp,
She paddles her white canoe.
And her firefly lamp I soon shall see,
And her paddle I soon shall hear;
Long and moving our life shall be
And I'll hide the maid in a cypress tree,
When the footstep of death is near.'
Away to the Dismal Swamp he speeds, -
His path was rugged and sore,
Through tangled juniper, beds of reeds,
Through many a fen where the serpent feeds,
And man never trod before.
And when on the earth he sank to sleep,
If slumber his eyelids knew,
He lay where the deadly vine doth weep
Its venemous tear, and nightly steep
The flesh with blistering dew!
And near him the she-wolf stirr'd the brake,
And the copper-snake breathed in his ear,
Till he starting cried, from his dream awake,
'Oh when shall I see the dusky Lake,
And the white canoe of my dear?'
He saw the Lake, and a meteor bright
Quick over its surface play'd, -
'Welcome,' he said, 'my dear one's light!'
And the dim shore echo'd for many a night
The name of the death-cold maid.
Till he hollow'd a boat of the birchen bark,
Which carried him off from the shore;
Far, far he follow'd the meteor spark,
The wind was high and the clouds were dark,
And the boat return'd no more.
But oft, from the Indian hunter's camp,
This lover and maid so true
Are seen at the hour of midnight damp
To cross the Lake by a firefly lamp,
And paddle their white canoe!
poem by Thomas Moore
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Let Bygones Be Bygones
What are you looking for?
'There use to be a bridge here,
I should have crossed...
A long time ago.
I am trying to find it.
'You must don't remember,
Burning that bridge.
It no longer exist.'
I wonder if I can get a lift with you?
'A lift?
You can not be serious?
A lift?
I've learned to paddle my own canoe.
And if I'm not mistaken...
I was taught by people like you,
Not to rely on anyone.'
Haven't you heard the term,
'Let bygones be bygones? '
'Yes I have.
Most definitely.
I'm gone.
Bye!
C-ya.'
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Little Paddle
swing gently
the paddle, wisely force with
the stretching hand
touches the water, push
to where the direction of
the mind align
whips running
hurriedly and find the smooth
surface of the wave,
smash as sweat turning to thirst settle
in the heart that bits
to refrain
spells out all that leads,
you may
not be the anchorage of the future, but
remember the whacked
now the bird may sing, belief drifted
the hymn that
hear
meted to poise
for a gift, shifting the paddle
to wings and float,
swing not only today for the
dawn never want
to lie …
poem by Antonio Liao
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Unspoken Words
mum my lips, lifted like storm
show me the window and shall be
there to cry
move like cripple dung, shape that
smell foul, not a game to play
but gain to paint
oh! tell me and reveals what is real
nothing comes easy in the dust to play
paddle those canoe, for even the
wind brings dirt to rest
hold on each moment, the scattered
voice murmurs the wind and settles
down to lie...
poem by Antonio Liao
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Kid On Summer Joy
Packed my books in my chattel
Rush and pray in a chapel
Off i go to summer school
Dance and swim in the summer pool.
Take my canoe to the summer beach
Paddle whole day with Mom and Dad
Summer comes once in a year
No more work but everyday
New friends, sweet memories we'll make
O we'll bake also cake
Not to placed in a case
But to eat, because its summer fun
Mom and Dad, O set me free
I will be good, because am a good boy
Buy me things and summer toy
For i am ROB ROY
The kid on summer joy
poem by mohamed Alpha Ba
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Shawrieh
Paddle your own canoe on the ocean of love and,
Bring your conscience to the river of peace;
For a clear mind leads to the clear realm of understanding.
Some things never change but, you can change yourself;
But, within the complicated mosaic of the diverse culture around you.
A shared sense of value in the land of love,
With positive words from you to heal my bones!
But, i am Shawrieh still sreaching for my way home.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!