Rowing
A story, a story!
(Let it go. Let it come.)
I was stamped out like a Plymouth fender
into this world.
First came the crib
with its glacial bars.
Then dolls
and the devotion to their plactic mouths.
Then there was school,
the little straight rows of chairs,
blotting my name over and over,
but undersea all the time,
a stranger whose elbows wouldn't work.
Then there was life
with its cruel houses
and people who seldom touched-
though touch is all-
but I grew,
like a pig in a trenchcoat I grew,
and then there were many strange apparitions,
the nagging rain, the sun turning into poison
and all of that, saws working through my heart,
but I grew, I grew,
and God was there like an island I had not rowed to,
still ignorant of Him, my arms, and my legs worked,
and I grew, I grew,
I wore rubies and bought tomatoes
and now, in my middle age,
about nineteen in the head I'd say,
I am rowing, I am rowing
though the oarlocks stick and are rusty
and the sea blinks and rolls
like a worried eyebal,
but I am rowing, I am rowing,
though the wind pushes me back
and I know that that island will not be perfect,
it will have the flaws of life,
the absurdities of the dinner table,
but there will be a door
and I will open it
and I will get rid of the rat insdie me,
the gnawing pestilential rat.
God will take it with his two hands
and embrace it.
As the African says:
This is my tale which I have told,
if it be sweet, if it be not sweet,
take somewhere else and let some return to me.
This story ends with me still rowing.
poem by Anne Sexton
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Related quotes
Grew Up Fast
We grew up fast
And no one seemed to notice
We grew up fast
And we grew up alone
Mom and dad
Were never what we wanted
We grew up fast
And we grew up alone
We grew up along
Well you know who I am
So dont treat me like Im someone else
Well you know what I am
So dont treat me like Im someone else
You never act like that with no one else
We grew up fast
When lies were just a fact of life
We grew up mad
Cause we never had a home
We faced the past
And forgave the revolution
We grew up smashed
And we grew up alone
We grew up alone
Hey my brother
I got no fight with you
I just cant lie down
Hey my brother
I got no fight with you
I just cant lie down
No, I just cant ride down
I just cant ride down
Well you know who I am
So dont treat me like Im someone else
Well you know what I am
So dont act like Im something else
Well you know who I am
So dont treat me like Im someone else
You know where I am
So dont act like Im somwhere else
You never talk like that to no one else
You never scream like that for no one else
You never suck like that for no one else
song performed by by Tom Petty
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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There's no earthly way of knowing
There's no earthly way of knowing
Which direction they are going!
There's no knowing where they're rowing,
Or which way they river's flowing!
Not a speck of light is showing,
So the danger must be growing,
For the rowers keep on rowing,
And they're certainly not showing
Any signs that they are slowing...
poem by Roald Dahl
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Jimmy Jet And His TV Set
I'll tell you the story of Jimmy Jet--
And you know what I tell you is true.
He loved to watch his TV set
Almost as much as you.
He watched all day, he watched all night
Till he grew pale and lean,
From 'The Early Show' to 'The Late Show'
And all the shows in between.
He watched till his eyes were frozen wide,
And his bottom grew into his chair.
And his chin turned into a tuning dial,
And antennae grew out of his hair.
And his brains turned into TV tubes,
And his face to a TV screen.
And two knobs saying 'vert.' and 'horiz.'
Grew where his ears had been.
And he grew a plug that looked like a tail
So we plugged in little Jim.
And now instead of him watching TV
We all sit around and watch him.
poem by Sheldon Allan Silverstein
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Row, Row, Row The Boat
Row, row, row the boat,
gently down the stream
of consciousness, and take close note
of things of which you dream
when working gallingly in galleys,
Ben Hur, condemned to row
until the spirit market rallies,
or falls like Jericho.
Slave, slave, slave, keep writing:
wait not for liberation,
and don’t feel crucified while fighting
lack of inspiration.
Be resurrected when unconscious,
keep jester juices flowing,
on auto-pilot, serving Pontius,
rowing, rowing, rowing.
David West, who is printing the galleys of my forthcoming book Legal Friction: Law, Narrative and Identity Politics in Biblical Israel, sent me an e-mail today which read:
And keep in mind Jack Hawkins’ famous advice to the galley slaves in Ben Hur: “You are all condemned men. We keep you alive to serve this ship. So row well, and live.”
9/23/08
poem by Gershon Hepner
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Did It Happen When I Stopped Complaining?
Somewhere along my journey,
I grew up.
I became both accountable
And took responsibility for my actions.
There were many along the way,
Who could not keep up the pace.
Somehow as I aged...
I held onto my faith,
With a painful self assessment I learned to face.
Saw my flaws and accepted them.
And not an excuse do I make.
It's too late for that now anyway.
That's why I am pleased to be the me I am.
I know the meaning of forgiveness and sacrifice.
And those realities have led me to my growth!
Somewhere along my journey,
I grew up.
I knew I would become a victim of confusion and stress.
I'm even impressed!
When did I wisen up...
To take my life with such seriousness?
Somewhere along my journey,
I grew up.
Did it happen when I stopped complaining?
Did I refuse to change the rules in the middle of the game?
Or did the violation of those rules,
I simply refused to change.
Knowing how to better play the game?
Either way...
Somewhere along my journey,
I grew up.
And pleased to be the me I am.
Still a work in process!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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I Grew My Hair Out
I finally grew my hair out.
I had tried before, but it frightened me.
It grew large, thick, black and wavy,
The hair my ancestors gave me.
They wore it long and free.
I finally grew my hair out,
And a friend said 'You look like a Greek god.'
And I said 'Which one? '
And he said 'I don't know. The chubby one that drank wine.'
And I thought about red wine
And the delighted laughter of women
About the hooves and horns
That I'd hidden inside my head
And had forgotten about, before I ever knew them.
But they were there all along, waiting.
Then I grew my hair out.
poem by Edward Allen
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Life's Dream...
Yesterday I wanted to write you a sweet sonnet,
But my mind grew blank and my hands grew idle,
Whilst I slept I dreamt for you an epic love story,
Yet my fingers were too dreamy to type these words,
And in my dream I dreamt a portrait of dandelions and angels,
Yet our angel of love became lost in the wide blue yonder,
Last night I dreamt for you a poem for all the ages,
But alas I died in my dream and my poem never grew wings,
Last night I dreamed we were as one in heart and dance,
Yet my arms were empty and my heart bereft of all emotion,
So I curled up in my blanket of loneliness and dreamed on,
Shall you perhaps meet me there, so we may dance? ...
Spread the love... The peace will follow...
poem by Cosmic Dreamer
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Vanishing Islands
Vanishing Islands
Classic sea, almost antique, slow swinging oars
rowing towards a balmy island with lazy palm trees.
Everything could have been so perfect, hadn’t been
for the rising sea and the diminishing shoreline.
There is a smoking mountain in the middle of
the island, soon fishermen will sit on cliffs and be
anglers, sing songs remembering times when their
island had a sandy beach; but for now oscillating oar
blade dips into liquid happiness, disturbing briefly
the azure sky that preens itself on an ocean it regards
as a mere mirror.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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Mr. Finney's Turnip
Mr. Finney had a turnip,
And it grew, and it grew,
And it grew behind the barn,
And the turnip did no harm.
And it grew, and it grew,
Till it could grow no taller;
Then Mr. Finney took it up
And put it in the cellar.
There it lay, there it lay,
Till it began to rot ;
When his daughter Susie washed it
And put it in the pot.
Then she boiled it and boiled it,
As long as she was able;
Then his daughter Susie took it
And put it on the table.
Mr. Finney and his wife
Both sat down to sup;
And they ate, and they ate,
Until they ate the turnip up.
poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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Without Regret
Saddened memories,
I once held as property.
Who knew,
They would go...
When they grew,
Inside of me!
I now reflect,
Without regret.
I know now
Defeats I've met!
But who knew,
They would go...
When they grew,
Inside of me!
Those times
Stayed on my mind
For days at a time.
I used that to feed,
My own desperate needing.
I lived with anger and deceit!
I felt those feelings deep,
Within me!
Defeats I have met!
But who knew,
They would go...
When they grew,
Inside of me!
But...
Who knew,
They would go...
When they grew,
Inside of me!
Who knew,
Like I do now...
When they grew,
Somehow
They would go...
From inside of me!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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When we grew apart
You say we grew apart
but I can't not say...
'babe, you threw ya heart'
where did it go?
I know,
it was when you told your white lies
it was when you stood in the white snow.
It was when you grew into a woman.
It was when I saw you smile
babe we grew apart
but for me it was only for a while.
poem by Daniel McCann
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The Nightingale and the Rose
The song, it echoed sweetly
This melody of purity so fine
To cause this bud to life
To cause this rose to form
The price to pay… the thorn
This precious price to pay with life
Pressed against the heart of purity
So pure this gentle heart
For in the name of love was formed
This rose so red, so rare
And with this blood so red
This sad song so sweet this night so long.
Until the thorn so sharp did pierce
This gentle feathered heart
And spilled the blood to form
This red rose, so rare.
And as her song of love grew faint
And as her life it spilled unto the rose
The dawn approached to quicken this endeavour
Lest this rose of love be less than perfect formed
As wilder grew her song so sweet of love
As bitter grew the pain as life it ebbed
So slowly born this death that does not die
So one heart grew the other passed away.
Borne on the wind this melody of song
This song so sweet to cause to life
This rose of blood, of love, of pain and tears
And yet so easily cast into a gutter.
poem by Mike Shanahan
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The misfortune of the old
Who else will protect me as I’m too old?
I begot a son, who grew strong and bold.
Fully secure in his hand, I grew bald.
Alas! I couldn’t die before he grew old.
22.05.2005
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Embraceable You
Dozens of girls would storm up;
I had to lock my door,
Somehow I couldn't warm up
To one before.
What was it that controlled me?
What kept my lovelife lean?
My intuition told me
You'd come on the scene.
Lady, listen to the rhythm of my heartbeat,
And you'll get just what I mean.
Embrace me, my sweet embraceable you!
Embrace me, you irreplaceable you!
Just one look at you, my heart grew tipsy in me;
You and you alone bring out the gypsy in me!
I love all the many charms about you!
Above all I want these arms about you.
Don't be a naughty baby,
Come to daddy, come to daddy, do!
My sweet embraceable you!
Just one look at you, my heart grew tipsy in me;
You and you alone bring out the gypsy in me!
I love all the many charms about you!
Above all I want these arms about you.
Now don't be a naughty baby,
Come to daddy, come to daddy, do!
My sweet embraceable you!
song performed by by Rod Stewart
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Rowing Song
Round the world and home again
That's the sailor's way
Faster faster, faster faster
There's no earthly way of knowing
Which direction we are going
There's no knowing where we're rowing
Or which way the river's flowing
Is it raining, is it snowing
Is a hurricane a–blowing
Not a speck of light is showing
So the danger must be growing
Are the fires of Hell a–glowing
Is the grisly reaper mowing
Yes, the danger must be growing
For the rowers keep on rowing
And they're certainly not showing
Any signs that they are slowing.
poem by Roald Dahl
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Rowing Your Way
He sat under a palm tree
serenading his lady fair
when a coconut dropped on his head
and he sat with a blank stare there.
She whispered sweet words of nothing,
but he couldn’t hear a thing
only somewhere in the distance
he head a cuckoo sing.
She garland him with pansies
and he looked a proper prat,
then a big bird came along
and deposited something on his hat
and as it run down on his chin
he thought his lady fair
had given a gooey kiss to him.
Then he opened up his eyes
and much to his surprise
he found himself in a cooking pot
and his lady fair was cooking him.
The vegetables floated on the water,
which was getting hotter.
Oh my, oh my, he shouted
and jumped out of the pot
and into the fire.
He legged it as fast as he could
smelling the smoke of his shoes on fire.
The natives took to hot pursuit
as along the sand he ran.
Wanting to dive in the water
but the dorsal fins of sharks
looking for a tasty bite
made him think twice as he flee.
Now he was in a pondery of which way to go
caught between the cooking pot and the deep blue sea.
Then he saw his route to escape
someone had left a dingy
up there on the beach.
Pushing it into the water
he began to paddle like mad,
but the dingy had a hole in it
and right then he wished he could fly.
With one hand bailing
and one hand rowing,
he struggled on.
If he could reach the nearby by island
he figured he would be safe.
The natives from where he came
lit a fire and with smoke signals
told their brothers that dinner
would soon be rowing your way.
poem by David Harris
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No One Questioned the Reek
When behavior they 'then' expressed,
Was not addressed...
But to some questionable?
Those of responsibility could have stood up,
To the plate.
No one did this.
But many bit down to chew!
And...
Instead,
An appreciation for that was shown.
With a bowing to lower eyes and heads.
Mixed signals were sent.
And deceit and devilment...
Were given carte blanche signals,
Not to slow down with caution...
But to move like blinded bulls,
Charging through halls...
Where precious crystal and china were used.
And no one confused a 'no' with a 'go'!
In fact...
Honors were given.
And some medals bestowed.
Some folks were given carte blanche signals.
For more of this to be exposed.
And it showed.
And they did...go!
Taking 'everything' with them,
To an humongous cellpool!
A deepened hole...
Where rooms were added.
And pretensions glowed!
With a renovation to extend the existing stench.
Guests were invited and asked to adorn masks.
No one questioned the reek.
It was as if an acceptance grew.
No one questioned the reek.
It was as if an acceptance grew.
No one questioned the reek.
It was as if an acceptance grew.
No one questioned the reek.
It was as if an acceptance grew.
And it did!
No one hid.
Deceit was done,
And everyone told...
Their bigger 'fibs'.
But...
No one questioned the reek.
It was as if an acceptance grew.
No one questioned the reek.
It was as if an acceptance grew.
No one questioned the reek.
It was as if an acceptance grew.
And it did!
No one hid.
Deceit was done,
And everyone told...
Their bigger 'fibs'.
And...
No one questioned the reek.
It was as if an acceptance grew.
No one questioned the reek.
It was as if an acceptance grew.
No one questioned the reek.
It was as if an acceptance grew.
No one questioned.
No one questioned.
No one questioned the reek.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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It was definitely a part of our life. I mean, my mom had both her brothers and her fiancee in Vietnam at the same time, so it wasn't just my dad's story, it was my mom's story too. And we definitely grew up listening to the stories.
quote by Vanessa Kerry
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Drink This Divine Wine and Celebrate!
Come, come climb with me
Up the ladder of emotional uncertainties,
Come, come drink with me
Free our souls from religion absurdities
Oh daughter of time,
Would you ever be mine?
Oh daughter of time
Fleeing from me in my prime,
As each furrow grew on my face,
Told stories of sacrifice and grace!
Each new line grew on my forehead,
Another hope lost to my bold head!
With good wine and a best friend I forget
Renew pleasures already spent!
Lost of laughs and silly jokes
Loosen my life's yokes
poem by leaking Pen
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I Have Fat Enough!
There comes a time when you look fat,
'Cos fat is what you are,
You've broken chairs each time you sat
And things have gone too far!
You need to diet! Yes, you do!
You need to flee the flab...
You simply grew and grew and grew,
Ate all that you could grab!
Well, now's a good time, change your weighs!
Don't squash the scales again!
If you get thin, you'll earn the praise,
So think thin until then!
So ask a Doctor who knows best,
Yes, you, just take your time...
Like Amy Pond who's so well dressed,
So thin she looks sublime!
It's up to you! Yes, you, not me!
My diet's going well...
Just be the best that you can be,
As thin as Tinkerbell!
That said, obsession's not advised...
So check your ideal weight...
'Cos someday soon you'll be surprised,
'Cos someday... You'll look great!
Denis Martindale, copyright, August 2011.
Is this poem meant to deliberately offend?
Is this poem meant to accidentally offend?
No. It's meant to remind us of one lady who
finally had to admit it, 'I have had enough! '
So the poem was called, I Have Fat Enough!
This poem is based on the website feedback
read on myspecialk-dot-co-dot-uk by the dieters
who want less not more. They have all known
that they should diet, so they decided to try it...
The rest is history: yes, his story and her story.
P.S. Doctor Who's assistant is Amy Pond,
who is played by the actress Karen Gillan.
poem by Denis Martindale
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