Paddle together, bail, paddle; paddle, bail; paddle towards the land.
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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
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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
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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
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A paddle here, a paddle there -- the canoe stays still.
Sierra Leonean proverbs
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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Paddle me in the rough sea's
whew...w...whew....w...whew....w...so strong, wave beneath
in the high sea, take in the ocean floor, dive all the wind that
brings me near to the bottom vail, and show me the ocean rock
saddle in the sand it fall
blow... s..s..blow...s..s...blow..s..s..that never ends the wave
that rough me inn, in my boat makes it pain, from the distance
there i see again, will and determination give me hope in a
land i wish to stand
roll on so fast, days and night, is counted in vast land, i can see
where my boat paddling in the deep blue sea, and everything is
done when my strength is gone, all i need now is go beyond my
fear that holds me to be there
paddle my wish near to place i quest, in the rough sea's i passed
i leave my past... for the future i stand... paddle me so fast......
that i can take it last......
poem by Antonio Liao
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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
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Rattled
Don't think that floating boat,
You sit in needs no one to paddle.
You need to grab those paddles,
And begin to steer that boat.
You can handle this with feelings felt specific.
You need to grab those paddles,
And begin to steer that boat.
You can handle this and quick.
With a healing that mends.
You need to grab those paddles,
And begin to steer that boat.
Knowing you are well equipped to face and conquer battles.
You need to grab those paddles,
And begin to steer that boat.
No need to get annoyed,
From annoyances that sit.
Or let yourself just drift.
With experience dismissed.
Knowing you are well equipped to face and conquer battles.
You need to grab those paddles,
And begin to steer that boat.
Don't think that floating boat,
You sit in needs no one to paddle.
You need to grab those paddles,
And begin to steer that boat.
Knowing you are well equipped to face and conquer battles.
You can face conflicts,
To unravel what has rattled.
And battle anything,
If you sit tall in that saddle.
Don't think that floating boat,
You sit in needs no one to paddle.
You need to grab those paddles,
And begin to steer that boat.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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On A Wooden Sailboat
now we shall try riding on a wooden sailboat
to cross this river
it will just be the two of us
with me paddling
and you simply sitting there
the river is still
as my paddle creates the ripples
the sky is reddish
this afternoon and soon it will be dark
you will light our way
as i paddle towards the other end
where they are all waiting
we do not talk much now
we love this silence that wraps us
this silence in another place
this newness
that blooms again
i look at you with anticipation
tonight the room shall only be lighted
with an oil lamp
we shall hear the crickets
and the frogs near the pond
and some birds with strange sounds
some love calls
the mating season has just begun
we have no time to watch
what the other creatures of this far place are doing
we have ourselves now
i will blow the lamp's flickers out
goodnight
we are starting all over again
dreaming
as you take me in your arms
i will remember some quivers
of long time ago
as though i do not know what to do
this is magical
love still exists so well in this darkness faraway from everyone
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Where are you going little girl?
the wooden boat
on one end the little girl with her paddle
a little longer than her frail body
then her mother and her younger sister
under a yellow umbrella against the sun
i can feel her firm tiny hands that hold the paddle
stab the river and stir to make this murkiness
she holds it on clear directions she struggles to push
the water to move the boat
as the sun scorches her brown skin
shiny and thin and yet so unfrightened
i am asking the philosophical question
to you elvi where are they going?
and you where are you going too?
do not answer me with the name of a place
it is the usual answer, tell me more about what i do not know
the one that stirs the river that one that pushes the boat
the one that must make the mother fold her umbrella
the one that must make the little girl stop her paddling
the answer that exhausts all options
the one that must make us shift our paradigms
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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