Arion
A lot of us were on the bark:
Some framed a sail for windy weather,
The others strongly and together
Moved oars. In silence sunk,
Keeping a rudder, strong and clever,
The skipper drove the heavy skiff;
And I -- with careless belief --
I sang for sailors... . But the stiff
Whirl smashed at once the waters' favor...
All dead -- the captain and his guard! --
But I, the enigmatic bard,
Was thrown to the shore alone.
I sing the former anthems, yet,
And dry my mantle, torn and wet,
In beams of sun under a stone.
poem by Alexander Sergeyevich Pushkin
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Related quotes
Heavy Weather
(michael sembello)
In the news today
Heavy weather
Oh, I can remember
The skies were so blue
That lucky old moon I promised to you
Now its gone lately
Somethings happening
I dont understand
Oh, how come decembers
Are hotter that june?
And how come the flowers
Dont know when to bloom?
Somethings wrong, people
Somethings happening
Happening where we live
The rising smoke against an endless sea of cars
As mother nature gets another senseless scar
In the news today
I guess were in for heavy weather
In the world today
Were heading for some heavy weather
The rain is falling harder each day
The faces keep changing
But the problem remains
Somethings wrong, people
Right before our eyes
Weve been hypnotized
The sound of silence
Broken by the sound of war
How can we heal
If we keep opening up the sore?
In the news today
I guess were in for heavy weather
In the world today
Were heading for some heavy weather
Will we ever hear the message?
Read the signs?
Stop all this talking now
Its time to save our lives
In the news today
I guess were in for heavy weather
In the world today
Were heading for some heavy...
The road ahead keeps leading back again
The train were on is coming to an end
Lets open up our eyes
In the world today
Were heading for some heavy weather
In the news today
I guess were in for heavy weather
In the news today
I guess were in for heavy weather
song performed by by Diana Ross
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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It's Raining In Wonthaggi
On the gum tree in the garden white backed magpie flutes his song
But it's raining in Wonthaggi and the wind is blowing strong
Two days back it was so balmy around twenty five degrees
It was perfect Summer weather with the faintest cooling breeze.
In south Gippsland's changing weather it can change from day to day
And the old timers who live here say it's always been this way
And when it's raining in Wonthaggi there's a strong wind from the sea
And on such inclememt weather indoors is the place to be.
And the magpie he keeps singing I can see him through the pane
And for some strange sort of reason he seems happy in the rain
Though birds sing their best and sweetest on their breeding days in Spring
On wet and changing weather you can also hear them sing.
It is windy in Wonthaggi and the rain is pouring down
And storm water drains are flooded all around the country Town
But the magpie seems quite happy he feels moved to melody
And he celebrate the downpour on high branch of old gum tree.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Barcarolle
The stars are dimly seen among the shadows of the bay,
And lights that win are seen in strife with lights that die away.
The wave is very still -- the rudder loosens in our hand,
The zephyr will not fill our sail and waft us to the land;
O precious is the pause between the winds that come and go,
And sweet the silence of the shores between the ebb and flow.
No sound but sound of rest is on the bosom of the deep,
Soft as the breathing of a breast serenly hushed with sleep:
Lay by the ear; there is a voice at heart to sing or sigh --
O what shall be the choice of barcarolle or lullaby?
Say shall we sing of day or night, fair land or mighty ocean,
Of any rapturous delight or any dear emotion,
Of any joy that is on earth, or hope that is above--
The holy country of our birth, or any song of love?
Our heart in all our life is like the hand of one who steers
A bark upon an ocean rife with dangers and with fears;
The joys, the hopes, like waves or wings, bear up this life of ours --
Short as a song of all these things that make up all its hours.
Spread sail! For it is Hope today that like a wind new-risen
Doth waft us on a golden wing towards a new horizon,
That is the sun before our sight, the beacon for us burning,
That is the star in all our night of watching and of yearning.
Love is this thing that we pursue today, tonight, for ever,
We care not whither, know not who shall be at length the giver:
For Love, -- our life and all our years are cast upon the waves;
Our heart is as the hand that steers; -- but who is He that saves?
We ply with oars, we strive with every sail upon our mast --
We never tire, never fail -- and Love is seen at last:
A low and purple mirage like a coast where day is breaking --
Sink sail! for such a dream of Love is lost before the waking.
poem by Arthur William Edgar O'Shaughnessy
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If we are strong, and have faith in life and its richness of surprises, and hold the rudder steadily in our hands. I am sure we will sail into quiet and pleasent waters for our old age.
quote by Freya Stark
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sinking
Youre on a wide open ocean
No one around you for miles
Your thinkin of drinkin on water
While youre sailing the nile
No one to stop you on your way
Flyin by goes a stork
You decide to bring your oars in now
But accidently knock out the cork
Row your boat to shore
cause it is leaking and youre still drinking
Unless you cork the hole
You wont be sailing, youll be sinking
Not knowin your sinkin
You take out a bottle of rum
Swiggin a drink to the bottom
The bottle reads van monchinghum
Oars back into the water
You think youll sail on
But you cant cause your boat contains
Three and a half gallons
Chorus:
Row, row, row your boat
Sail your ship to shore
Youre barely, barely, barely keeping afloat
I hope that you wont drink no more
song performed by by Gwen Stefani
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Consultant
What is that?
That is what
Why's it rye?
That is why
How was Dow?
That was how
When was ten?
That was when
You'd do that?
No, you'd do that!
You'd clear that?
No, you'd clear that!
You are smart
Yes, I'm smart
You are clever
Yes, I'm clever
You know what?
What to know?
I know that
So you know?
Am I smart?
No, you're not
Am I clever?
No, not ever
If you're smart
You don't bark
If you're clever
you don't hire
(Jakarta,12th August 2009)
poem by Ahmad Arli Hikmawan
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Sun and Shadow
As I look from the isle, o'er its billows of green,
To the billows of foam-crested blue,
Yon bark, that afar in the distance is seen,
Half dreaming, my eyes will pursue:
Now dark in the shadow, she scatters the spray
As the chaff in the stroke of the flail;
Now white as the sea-gull, she flies on her way,
The sun gleaming bright on her sail.
Yet her pilot is thinking of dangers to shun,--
Of breakers that whiten and roar;
How little he cares, if in shadow or sun
They see him who gaze from the shore!
He looks to the beacon that looms from the reef,
To the rock that is under his lee,
As he drifts on the blast, like a wind-wafted leaf,
O'er the gulfs of the desolate sea.
Thus drifting afar to the dim-vaulted caves
Where life and its ventures are laid,
The dreamers who gaze while we battle the waves
May see us in sunshine or shade;
Yet true to our course, though the shadows grow dark,
We'll trim our broad sail as before,
And stand by the rudder that governs the bark,
Nor ask how we look from the shore!
poem by Oliver Wendell Holmes
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Sail Away
Walk a cold thin line
in the morning
Hold the fear inside
that greets you with the day
I can't go with you now
I can only watch you now
As you sail away
Sail away
I'm going to miss you now
So much more then I realised
There's a heavy stone of empty
where you once lay
I can't go with you now
I can only watch you now
Watch you
As you sail away
Sail away
I know you need your freedom
Sail away
Cause without it you can't survive
Be on your way
disappear into the distance
I smile and say
Sail away
I can't go with you now
I can only watch you now
Watch you
As you sail away
song performed by by Chris Rea
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Hulk
Now, 'ere's my tip
Fer the Fusion ship,
An' I tells it straight an' square.
I'm a rare old tar
As nigh an' far
You'll not meet ev'rywhere.
I've seen 'er sail
In many a gale,
But she's done 'er final trip;
So I 'itches me breeches, an' a simple tale I pitches
O' this good ole Fusion ship.
'Twas Alf an' Joe,
Long years ago,
They built 'er any 'ow.
Twas a strange ole skiff
With 'er keel skew-wiff,
An' a double-ended bow.
Yus, a nose each end,
An' a grecian bend
Amidships, quaint an' queer.
When I seen 'er take the water, 'Ho!' ses I, 'she is a snorter!'
An' I gives a 'earty cheer.
An' sail she did.
But I'l lay ten quid
No ship, befor enor since,
Done 'ark 'er tricks;
'Er darned ole fix
'Ud make longshoremen wince.
She'd bob and bow,
The blamed old scow,
Like a wet an' foolish 'en;
An' 'er subsekint behav'er an' the effects fer to save 'er
Was a treat fer sialor-men.
An' Alf 'e was
'Er skipper, 'cos
No other could be got
To sail that craft!
An' fore an' aft
They was a rare ole lot.
So queer a crew
I never knew
An' Joe, 'e was fust mate.
An' to 'ear 'im scold and rate 'er, when 'e tried to navigate 'er -
Well, I tell yeh, it was great!
Fer some they said
To point 'er 'ead
Fer nor'-nor'-east by east,
Fer Tory Bay,
An' some said 'Nay,'
An' the langwidge never eased.
An' some they pressed
To sail doo west,
Fer the ole Freetection port.
An' the way she waltzed an' wobbled, while they 'owled an' fought an' squabbled.
Ho, I never seen sich sport!
An' poor ole Joe!
'Is watch below
Was mostly short an' sweet;
Fer 'e never knew
Wot time that crew
Might up an' change 'er beat.
But Alf, the boss,
'E took 'is doss,
An' 'e let 'er sail or stop;
Fer in days when seas was finer 'e was skipper of a liner,
An' 'e sorter felt the drop.
Now, she dropped at last
'Er anchor fast
In the 'arbor of Recess.
'Er sheets is tore,
An' 'er plates is wore,
An' she'll sail no more, I guess.
Alf got the pip
On 'er final trip,
An' there's some as said 'e swore
'E was sickened of 'er capers; so 'e 'anded in 'id papers,
An' she'll put to sea no more.
But it's 'ip, 'ip, 'ip!
fer the Fusion ship,
Fer the navigatin' 'en!
Since 'er cruise begun
She 'as give great fun
To us 'eart sailor-men.
We 'ave cheered an' laughed
An' joked an' chaffed
Since the day she put to sea;
So I takes a pull and 'itches (as our 'abit is) my breeches,
An' I give 'er three times three.
poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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Sail On, Sail On
Sail on, sail on, thou fearless bark --
Where'er blows the welcome wind,
It cannot lead to scenes more dark,
More sad than those we leave behind.
Each wave that passes seems to say,
"Though death beneath our smile may be,
Less cold we are, less false than they,
Whose smiling wreck'd thy hopes and thee."
Sail on, sail on -- through endless space --
Through calm -- through tempest -- stop no more:
The stormiest sea's a resting-place
To him who leaves such hearts on shore.
Or -- if some desert land we meet,
Where never yet false-hearted men
Profaned a world, that else were sweet --
Then rest thee, bark, but not till then.
poem by Thomas Moore
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My Love
on a dark night
when i cannot see the path
where i must walk upon
on blistered feet
you shall be my star
my moon
and you shall guide my way
on a storm
when my sails are threatened
by the waves
bigger than houses and boats
you shall be my
strong rudder
but now my love
you are sleeping
you struggle too on your nightmares
i see you
wriggling in pain
i will always be with you
for now, i am your star, your moon, your sun
your rudder
i can wait
when you wake up
at this moment
i must be strong
poem by Antonio Liao
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Now Returned Home
Beyond the narrows of the Inner Hebrides
We sailed the cold angry sea toward Barra, where Heaval mountain
Lifts like a mast. There were few people on the steamer, it was late in the
year; I noticed most an old shepherd,
Two wise-eyed dogs wove anxious circles around his feet, and a thin-armed
girl
Who cherished what seemed a doll, wrapping it against the sea-wind. When
it moved I said to my wife 'She'll smother it.'
And she to the girl: 'Is your baby cold? You'd better run down out of the
wind and uncover its face.'
She raised the shawl and said 'He is two weeks old. His mother died in
Glasgow in the hospital
Where he was born. She was my sister.' I looked ahead at the bleak island,
gray stones, ruined castle,
A few gaunt houses under the high and comfortless mountain; my wife
looked at the sickly babe,
And said 'There's a good doctor in Barra? It will soon be winter.' 'Ah,'
she answered, 'Barra'd be heaven for him,
The poor wee thing, there's Heaval to break the wind. We live on a wee
island yonder away,
Just the one house.'
The steamer moored, and a skiff—what they call a
curragh, like a canvas canoe
Equipped with oars—came swiftly along the side. The dark-haired girl
climbed down to it, with one arm holding
That doubtful slip of life to her breast; a tall young man with sea-pale eyes
and an older man
Helped her; if a word was spoken I did not hear it. They stepped a mast
and hoisted a henna-color
Bat's wing of sail.
Now, returned home
After so many thousands of miles of road and ocean, all the hulls sailed in,
the houses visited,
I remember that slender skiff with dark henna sail
Bearing off across the stormy sunset to the distant island
Most clearly; and have rather forgotten the dragging whirlpools of London,
The screaming haste of New York.
poem by Robinson Jeffers
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A Land Shanty
Sou' sou' east, with the course set fair
Heave ho, me hearties!
On the Geelong road we're cruisin' there
Seven tars with ne'er a care
Heave ho, me hearties!
When up speaks Bill of trouble aft;
But the bos'n grinned and the skipper laughed;
An' 'e sez, 'We'll trust the queer ole craft
Heave ho, me hearties!'
Stuns'ls, mains'ls, all were set
Heave ho, me hearties!
An' the fust mate sez, 'We'll make port yet,
For the seas are smooth, so don't you fret
Heave ho, me hearties!'
But the steersman sez, 'I doubt her feel,
For she ain't responding to the wheel,
An' I got me doubts of 'r starboard keel
But heave ho, me hearties!'
There weren't no sea, tho' thegale was stiff
Heave ho, me hearties!
When this mad ole, bad ole dry land skiff
Is a total loss in 'arf a jiff
Heave ho, me hearties!
'Dry land,' the skipper sez, sez 'e,
'Is a 'ard, 'ard spot; give me the sea.'
An' so in 'ospital, sez we
With a heave ho, me hearties.
poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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Rain.
the grass waving in the wind
the tree's swaying in the breeze
the windy weather the rain
winter
the clouds of different shades
black grey white
smoke rising above the house's
fire's alight
warming the air within there homes
keeping them warm from the cold
air outside there cozy homes
rain starting to pour apon there roofs
hitting hard
the weather getting worse
poeple hiding in there homes
away from it all.
poem by Nick.. Sorensen
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A Floating Boat Needs a Rudder
You seek direction!
That's what you claim to need.
And you want to stay clear...
Of a negativity that teases and schemes.
And you say to me,
You've got to float your own boat.
But fear prevents you,
To listen to advice you toss away...
Before anywhere you go.
You're afraid to row,
A boat that stays on shore!
And advice you're given...
Your are quick to ignore.
Any boat that you'll use will need a rudder.
That boat you use will need a rudder.
Any boat you will use will need a rudder,
From here to there...
Or wherever your druthers.
That boat you're using needs a rudder.
That boat you're using needs a rudder.
That boat you're using needs a rudder...
From here to there...
Or wherever your druthers.
You seek direction!
That's what you claim to need.
And you want to stay clear...
Of a negativity that teases and schemes.
And you say to me,
You've got to float your own boat.
But fear prevents you,
To listen to advice you toss away...
Before anywhere you go.
And you don't want to hear...
A floating boat needs a rudder!
Not from me,
Or anyone other.
No you don't want to hear...
A floating boat needs a rudder!
Not from me,
Or anyone other.
That that that boat,
That you're using needs a rudder.
One day you'll see...
A floating boat needs a rudder!
One day you'll find it true...
And agree with me.
That that that boat,
That you're using needs a rudder.
That that that boat,
That you're using needs a rudder.
One day you'll see...
A floating boat needs a rudder!
One day you'll find it true...
And agree with me.
No matter what druthers suffered...
One day you'll agree.
A floating boat needs a rudder...
To get to your destiny!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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My dogs
bark at the neighbors,
bark at the UPS man,
bark at cars
and kids on bicycles.
they bark at the television,
the radio
and the stereo.
they bark at
the vacuum cleaner,
the dust mop
and the broom.
they bark at
anyone
who enters the house
uninvited.
and
when they’re not barking,
they’re sitting there
waiting
for something
to bark at.
good dogs.
poem by John Yamrus
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Old Dirt Road
Aint no people on old dirt road,
No more weather on the old dirt road.
Its better than a mudslide, mama, when the dry spell come, yeah,
Oh, oh, oh, oh, old dirt road.
Aint no diffrence on old dirt road,
Tarred and feathered on the old dirt road.
Trying to shovel smoke with a pitchfork in the wind, yeah, yeah, yeah.
Breezing thru the deadwood on a hot summer day,
I saw a lazybonin out in the hay.
I said, ah, hey, mister human, can ya rainmaker too?
He said, I guess its okay, you know the only thing we need is water,
Cool, clear water , (water) water, (water).
Aint no people on old dirt road,
No more weather on the old dirt road.
Its better than a mudslide, mama, when the morning come, yeah,
Oh - oh - oh - oh - old dirt road.
Ah!
Mm, good night.
Keep on keeping on,
Keep on keeping on,
Keep on keeping on,
Keep on keeping on,
Keep on keeping on,
Keep on keeping on,
Keep on keeping on,
So long,
So long,
Bye, bye,
Bye,
Keep on keeping on,
Keep on keeping on,
Keep on, keep on, keep on, keep on,
Keep on, keep on, keep on.
song performed by by Yoko Ono
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Moving Amidst Spoils Of Time
we moved…
in feigned elegance
in crude curiosity
in clumsy motion
in surprised stride
from one ruin to another
lying pathetically
in the shade of ancient trees
chopped noses
clipped lips
half severed breasts
a cut across the stomach
a wound on the thigh
part of genitals hanging loose
all left to weather to wither
we cried
we laughed
and walked
sometimes in stunned silence
sometimes in solemn stillness
the rocks in ruins remained
majestic and heroic
in stoic silence
we moved…
06nov2008
14.11hrs
poem by Indira Babbellapati
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Silence, a weapon
Silence misread, one is misled.
Silence taken for ‘no’ costs chances.
Silence taken for ‘yes’ brings trouble.
Silence over read, the goal is lost.
Silence under read, the bus is missed.
Silence is a mysterious weapon,
With which the clever get away.
30.04.2007
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Windup my sail
Windup my sail
Like falling, leaves.
Windup these pirate tales
What no one else believes?
Oh, quarter master—
Mistress of the high seas
Beat your drum
Let these oars men
Stroke each falling wave
Once and again…
Where nothings are nearly
Quite begun or ended…
Or recovered
With each rolling, days
Sirens sacrifice
Tossed up into
The foaming waves of what’s
Dew dropped into thee
Into me, still unknown..?
Oh, catch that thunder
In the harbor in the rain
Like linen
Touch the healing…
In the lightening’s
Craped ripped breath…
In the sunlight
Of your soul
Like a dove
With an olive leaf
Returning home
To a king of the truly wise
Wind up my sail
Tonight I drowned
At these oars
For the light!
poem by Mark Heathcote
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