On the Lake (2)
Little child paddle small boat
Drift pick white lotus back
Not know hide trace
Duckweed one path open
A little child paddles a little boat,
Drifting about, and picking white lotuses.
He does not know how to hide his tracks,
And duckweed's opened up along his path.
Related quotes
A Little Boy Paddling His Boat In The River
who had seen the little child paddling a boat
along this old river?
he drifted silently along the river weeds,
picking white lotuses along the way
the water hides his tracks
as duckweed opens him another path.
i was that boy, now, wanting to go back
in that old river.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Scraps of Cloud in Rosy Dusk
Scrap rosy cloud evening rays west lake good
Flower bank duckweed sandbar
Ten qing ripple peaceful
Wild bank without person boat self line
West south moon on float cloud scatter
Veranda railing cool born
Lotus scent clear
Water face wind come wine face sober
Scraps of cloud in rosy dusk- West Lake is good.
Flowers on the bank, duckweed on sand,
A hundred acres of peaceful ripples,
On the overgrown bank, no man- just the stroke of a boat.
South-west, across the moon, scattered clouds are drifting.
Cool rises at the terrace rail,
Lotus flowers' scent is clear,
Wind from the water's face makes the wine face sober.
poem by Ouyang Xiu
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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(Waiting For) The Ghost Train
A straw headed woman, and a barrel chested man,
A pocket full of posies with a hat brim full of sand,
Ooh - waiting for the train that never comes,
A dog chasing the tumbleweeds, across the sandy floor,
That drift along the platform, through the ticket office door,
Ooh - waiting for the train that never comes,
Ooh - waiting for the train that never comes,
But don't tell me there's nothing coming, you don't fool me,
I hear the ghost train rumbling along the tracks - set them free,
And I hear them,
It's black and white don't try to hide,
It's black and white don't try to hide,
The station master's writing with a piece of orange chalk,
A hundred cancellations, still no one wants to walk,
Keep the hungry children from the skeletons in the back,
Paid to keep an eye out for the gipsy caravan,
Ooh - waiting for the train that never comes,
Ooh - waiting for the train that never comes,
I hear the ghost train rumbling along the tracks - set them free,
And I hear them,
It's black and white don't try to hide,
It's black and white don't try to hide,
It's black and white don't try to hide,
It's black and white don't try to hide,
It's black and white (don't try),
It's black and white (don't try),
It's black and white don't try to hide,
It's black and white don't try to hide,
And I hear them,
It's black and white don't try to hide,
It's black and white don't try to hide
song performed by by Madness
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Ghost Train
A straw headed woman, and a barrel chested man,
A pocket full of posies with a hat brim full of sand,
Ooh - waiting for the train that never comes,
A dog chasing the tumbleweeds, across the sandy floor,
That drift along the platform, through the ticket office door,
Ooh - waiting for the train that never comes,
Ooh - waiting for the train that never comes,
But don't tell me there's nothing coming, you don't fool me,
I hear the ghost train rumbling along the tracks - set them free,
And i hear them,
It's black and white don't try to hide,
It's black and white don't try to hide,
The station master's writing with a piece of orange chalk,
A hundred cancellations, still no one wants to walk,
Keep the hungry children from the skeletons in the back,
Paid to keep an eye out for the gipsy caravan,
Ooh - waiting for the train that never comes,
Ooh - waiting for the train that never comes,
I hear the ghost train rumbling along the tracks - set them free,
And i hear them,
It's black and white don't try to hide,
It's black and white don't try to hide,
It's black and white don't try to hide,
It's black and white don't try to hide,
It's black and white (don't try),
It's black and white (don't try),
It's black and white don't try to hide,
It's black and white don't try to hide,
And i hear them,
It's black and white don't try to hide,
It's black and white don't try to hide...
song performed by by Madness
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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
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Child Of Babylon
(coverdale/marsden)
When I heard the sound of thunder
On the day that I was born,
I was blinded by the lighting
An baptised in the storm
My father started crying
When he saw what he had done,
But, my mother started praying
Have mercy on my son,
He is a child of babylon
I am a child of babylon,
Lord have mercy on a wayward son
Nowhere to hide, nowhere to run
I am a child,
A child of babylon
When Ive fooled around so many times
When Ive known it aint been right,
But, I paint it all in colours
When it really should be black and white
I sail my ship through muddy waters,
Try to open every door,
When I saw the seven wonders
It left me wanting more
I am a child of babylon,
Lord have mercy on a wayward son
Nowhere to hide, got no place to run
I am a child,
A child of babylon
On my day of judgement
I know how it will be,
Im prepared to meet my maker
With no hope for charity
Ill stand alone and pay the price
For everything Ive done,
cos there aint guardian angel
For a child of babylon
I am a child,
A child of babylon
I am a child of babylon,
Lord have mercy on a wayward son
Nowhere to hide, got no place to run
I am a child,
A child of babylon
Child of babylon
song performed by by Whitesnake
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Boat By The Silent Pond
a boat stays on the silent pond
beneath the trees with wide branches
it is tied
not so tight
any child can let it loose
and release it and soon
it will go and
we wonder
what is it that it is waiting for
and for whom shall
this boat go
there is this ride that each shall take
no one wants to take it earlier
always one says later
later
there is no hurry
the children have grown and they wear
faces like yours
they go away and you are left alone
with the person you love
you have a conversation
time goes like a stranger
the friends you know have either grown old
or have died and their coffins pass by your house
you remember
memories and you smile at the youth you once had
you remember the boat
the child in you has loosened it
you pick up on what was easily forgotten
you cope up
you say you want the ride now
it is dark
and the silence spreads on the paddle
the ripples exude the essence of the journey
you hold a hand
and you sit comfortably without worry
it is time to go.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Boat To Sail
Youre up state, up late, and city fed
Im a california label
From the top of my head,
Forever, ah
See a lot of open sky
When the sun goes down
Theres a hot, lot of loving when you come
Around, to free me, ah
In a boat to sail, boat to sail, away, ah
All those letters mailed from a
Boat to sail, away ah
We are riding in a boat to sail
Bare foot, coconut and supermild
Jamaica take a look
At your own child
Forget not
Brian wilson songs are never left behind
Dont you worry baby, youre a friend of mine
For so long
From a boat to sail, boat to sail, away ah
All those letters mailed, from a
Boat to sail, away ah
We are riding in a boat to sail
We are riding in a boat to sail
song performed by by Carpenters
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Scene In A Little Town
the sky is white
the sea is blue like silk
on the sea three fishermen
pull their net
their boat is small
and wooden
on the sandy beach
a child plays with his white dog
how peaceful is this place
how wonderful is this life!
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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There There Child
There there child, there there child
Dont it make you feel alright
There there child, dont it all look good tonight
And you feel like going but you gotta stay
Aint no time for to hop on a freight train
And you feel like laying in the morning hay
cause its time for a nap now, before rain
There there child, dont it make you satisfied
There there child, you can rest your weary eyes
And you feel like walking on a mountain top
Or a ride on a boat up the river
And the last lonely sheep has returned to the flock
As you wing over the white cliffs of dover
There there child, theres a glint in your eye for surprise
There there child, are you ready to don your disguise, yes you are
Sun goes down across the pond and the wind, wind is blowing wild
And the swallow soars and the lion roars
Outside your front door, by the oak tree in the meadow
There there child, there there child
Are you ready to don your disguise
There there child, theres a glint in your eye for surprise
Do you feel like walking on a mountain top
Or ride on a boat up the river
And the last lonely sheep has returned to the flock
As you wing over the white cliffs of dover
As you wing over the white cliffs of dover, straight ahead
As you wing over the white cliffs of dover, straight ahead
You wing over the white cliffs of dover
song performed by by Van Morrison
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Boat and The Sea
I will tell you, my Dear
Story of the Boat and the Sea
'Since the unknown time
The Boat heard the call from the Sea
Wings of Gull, blue waves
Took Boat traveled everywhere, all ways
The Boat's soul's filled with hopes
And the Sea's boundless love
Boat went far, further no tiresome
The Sea was still far...so far
Those nights the moon was gentle
The sea was like a girl, who's little
She whispered, she sent her thoughts
Round the boatside, waves elapsed
Sometimes, causeless
The Sea, its waves, pourred impetuously in the Boat
(Because of Love, for all times, ever was just imovable?)
Only the Boat understood
How boundless the Sea was
Only the Boat knew
Where the Boat went to, back to
The days without meeting
The sea was with white head, with missing
The days without gathering
The Boat was broken - crack
If already seperated from the Boat
The Sea only remained the wind and waves
...up and down, a craze'
If having to be separated from you
I just only remain storms
(composer: Xuân Quỳ nh, traslator: Hanh My Nguyen)
poem by Hanh My Nguyen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Child Had No Trust
The child was given a fruit
But the child did not eat
The child was given a shelter
But the child did not sleep
The child was given love
But the child did not take
The child was shown a path
But the child did not go
The child was promised a future
But the child did not believe
The fruit could be poisoned
The shelter could be a tomb
The sleep could be a nightmare
The love could be abused
The path could be an abyss
And the future smelled of the past
The child had no trust
Can anyone make the child believe
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Winter Is White
WINTER IS WHITE
Winter is white
.......dogwood white
..............forgetfulness
......... ..........an empty slate
Winter is windy
.......windless words
..............empty words
....................drifting aimlessly
Winter is cold
.......deedless words
..............barrenness
............ ........suffering cold
What sound goes there?
What meaning fills the void?
These white lies of life
...............blown sands –– no trace
.....................................–– no path
.....................blindness––no seeking
...................................... ––no faith
No seeing here
No leading love
White and no light
White and no sight
White and no flight
- March 6,2008
poem by Ben Gieske
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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After the Lotus Flowers Have Opened
Lotus flower open after west lake good
Carry wine come time
Not use flag pennant
Before behind red curtain green canopy follow
Paint boat punt enter flower deep place
Scent float gold cup
Mist rain small small
One piece pipes song drunk in return
After the lotus flowers have opened- West Lake is good.
Come for a while and bring some wine,
There's no need for flags and pennants,
Before and behind, red curtains and green canopies follow.
The painted boat is punted in to where the flowers are thick.
Fragrance floats round golden cups,
Mist and rain are so, so fine,
In a snatch of pipes and song I drunkenly return.
poem by Ouyang Xiu
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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Father's Denial
If you have a child that you conceived
Do not hide it from your family.
It may come back to you in your later years
And the truth you will have to share.
At the time “ we deny it”
And we try to hide it
For whatever reason that it’s done
It will hurt everyone.
The child like us, go through
The aches and pains
And we hide our heads in shame.
At some time in our life
We go into denial
And it will last for quite a while.
We may deny that we are “ addicts”
Just to avoid the family static.
But when we deny a child
That GOD has given
Then life does not become worth living.
If you look into your child’s eyes
You will know
that you can’t deny
That this child is part of you
And it’s mother knows it too.
Don’t live a life of regret
For it can get much worse yet.
ACCEPT
poem by Louis Rams
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Eye 4 An Eye (Silencer Mix)
Even now in heaven
There were angels carrying savage weapons
An eye for an eye...(for an eye...)
A tooth for a tooth...(for a tooth...)
Run, run, run,
But you sure can't hide...(hide...hide)
An eye for an eye...(for an eye...)
A tooth for a tooth...(for a tooth...)
Run, run, run,
But you sure can't hide...(hide...hide)
Is that room been fit to earth?
Doesn't help the ??? to grow sunshine?
Is this darkness all you'll take?
Have you'd passed through this life?
Run, run, run, but you sure can't hide...(hide, hide...)
Where you're going you're not coming back from
Run, run, run, but you sure can't hide...(hide, hide...)
An eye for an eye...(for an eye...)
A tooth for a tooth...(for a tooth...)
Run, run, run,
But you sure can't hide...(hide...hide)
An eye for an eye...(for an eye...)
A tooth for a tooth...(for a tooth...)
Run, run, run,
But you sure can't hide...(hide...hide)
This grain evil
Where is it come from?
Had still the end of the world?
Who's doing this?
Who's killed us?
Marking us with the sign of the holy mighty man
Run, run, run...(run, run...)
Run, run, run...(run, run...)
An eye for an eye...(for an eye...)
A tooth for a tooth...(for a tooth...)
Run, run, run, but you sure can't hide...(hide...hide)
An eye for an eye...(for an eye...)
A tooth for a tooth...(for a tooth...)
Run, run, run,
But you sure can't hide...(hide...hide)
(An eye for an eye...)
Are you righteous?
(A tooth for a tooth...)
Kind?
(Run, run, run but you sure can't hide...)
Does your confidence lie in this?
(An eye for an
song performed by by Unkle
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Build Me A Boat
build me a boat
do not paint it
let it just be the most natural
color of wood
the glow of mahogany
build me this boat
and i shall sail on it one night
when the sea is so calm
i shall put nothing in there
not a paddle
or a rudder
build me this boat that will take me
to my own world
away from you
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A One Man's Show
now, this is my last instruction for you
hear it well: when you travel in this boat
you paddle, there is no machine
your hands are paddles
your boat your body
your steer your foot
now they do not mind you but you speak a lot
and laugh a lot
they will not comment somehow
trusting you
that you know where to go
and what to bring
and when and where to finally stop
the boat and keep it
on the other side of this big river
the point is
you will never know whether you have arrived or not
they just keep on watching
and they will hear every groaning and moaning
that your are making
as though you are making love with
someone invisible
things are complicated finally
at first you proclaim
this is a simple matter and i know fully well what is happening
but that is not the case really
when you arrive there
there will be big changes
clothes change from blue to white
you will grow a beard
and your fingers are no longer proportional to your arms
some things appear smaller than normal
and you being to
shy away from everybody who keeps on seeing you
stalking you
but their mouths are shut
like a wall
that once was a door
things are different now
very complicated
harrowing experiences of doves and bats begin to unfold
some worms scream finally
they shout your name
and you close your ears and
sleep.
the life that they call a stage
lets the curtain fall
it is the end of your show
and they all begin to leave you
alone again.
(For Erye... )
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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