Herakleitos I
Entendu! Understood!
One cannot step
into the same river twice.
Fresh waters
are eternally
rushing in.
Who passed this way?
And when?
Wait!
Pond river ocean
all are filled
with eternal waters.
In tasting these,
is Liberation not found?
And yet the ancient Dragon sits
in a dried out rock pool
singing for rain!
She has burned her lover's letters.
Will her lover's tears suffice?
And the river is jealous,
resentful of bridges,
imprisoned in pipes
and drainage systems.
Even Neptune rages
with his trident
against the volcano
slyly plotting
under the seabed;
impotently chokes
with pollution,
hungry and overfished.
The gods themselves
have traded eternity
for the ticking of a cosmic clock
which crawls its way
towards the end of the kalpa.
For an alms bowl
of memories.
poem by Brian Taylor

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The Once Great River
In the once great river pollution is rife
Nowadays it does not support much aquatic life
In a polluted river fresh water fish rare
Pollution can cause extinction of that much we are aware
On the polluted river few water birds to be seen
Most of the river pools covered in algae of green
From sewage and wash of chemical fertilisers that in drains into it does flow
With so called human progress the scourge of pollution does grow
Pollution in it flowing to the distant ocean shore
The once great river is not great anymore
Do not drink of these waters the warning signs say
Pollutiuon is rife in the World of today
And the once great river flows on muddy gray
To the mighty ocean many miles away.
poem by Francis Duggan

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No One Steps Twice On The River Of Life...
it is not the rage of this river.
when i was a child, as mother says,
i keep my finger inside my mouth
sucked by my throat, to keep hunger away
beside the bank of this river
i am the spectator
and the river believes in the magic
of my innocence
it flows always in a distant
affection,
it is not the rage of the river,
it is i, the grown up man who goes swimming
in the river and feel
the joys of its cool waters
always moving on towards
a destination
it is the swimming with a friend
and then
with a lover and then with a wife
and then my silence,
what we do not have we force to forget
it is the bathing in the river
the rinsing and the cleansing of the waters
it is not the rage of this river
and then we become too weak to be in this river
the river moves on and on
towards the deepest sea looking for the
opening
i wait by the bank of this river
many things have been missed
the more important ones
the one that gives the posterity of
my humanity
it is denied of me because of this river
that gives me nothing
all the while i was the leaf that fell off from
the tree
on the side of this river
and i floated because i have nothing to do
because i can do nothing about
the flow of the river
i become the dead leaf that the air
rides upon
tossed and bumped on boulders
till i sink
deep down the river
that i shall pass only once.
time.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

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Where Is The River?
Where is the river?
Is it here
Or somewhere else
Where is the river?
Is it here
Or hidden under the ground
Where is the river?
Is it here
Or safe inside the cave
Where is the river?
Is it here
Or still far away
Where is the river?
Is it here
Or up above the cloud
Where is the river?
Is it here
Or out of our reach
Where is the river?
Is it here
Or trickling on the rock
Where is the river?
Is it here
Or gathering in the pool
Where is the river?
Is it here
Or down over the cliff
Where is the river?
Is it here
Or just sight of illusion
Where is the river?
Is it here
Running in your eyes
Where is the river?
Is it here
Or sudden flood in the road
poem by Maria Sudibyo

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Sit By The River
Sit By the River
The dripping tap, ticking clock, the long nights
when unwanted memories surface on gloomy
waters, and my past creeps nearer and future
hides in a Saragossa mist, together they push
me nearer a non existence. Sad morning light,
rain falls like an old man’s tears when all ships
have sailed and he is stranded on the island he
shares with snakes and scorpions knowing they
will soon eat him. Driftwood in the sea of life,
I never was a master of my destiny, but I can do
a last brave thing, walk into the Savannah night
and eaten by lions or, with my luck, wolfed by
hooting hyenas, so I will stay where I’m, my
last act of cowardice, sit by the river and wait.
poem by Oskar Hansen

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From the Green Eye
Eye the river which is formed by why.
Eye as for the river my mind has been formed by the why.
From the green eye which is older than the last bend now strait.
Eye of the blood from one person the river of ancient times.
And as human as the world,
like the river you were brought up why deeply.
The dawn is young, for you why me who she is and I.
When hearing, rising up from the mud and singing.
The river which is formed by the first ancient why.
Ancient times, dusky river filled over in mist.
Eye for my mind,
like the river you were brought up to rise deeply, bloody why.
poem by Is It Poetry

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Arabah
My tears bath my pillow in the night like a river and,
My bed soaks all around me in the night like a lake;
But to whom shall i keep my peace with when,
I am lost in the ocean of the night?
Praise so be to you who understands my problem,
For how long can i swim to you on this river of love?
I am lost, naked lonely;
And i need your ture love to carry me on.
I am lost on this side of the river and,
How can i swim through this ocean of love?
Since, the woes of the night is all over me.
You can hear the noise of the river and,
You also see the pains to my movements;
But the sea of love to my heart is like this lake around me.
Come and carry me over this ocean,
Come and take me to the other side of love;
And like two lovers lost in the deep blue sea,
Why should my night be so long on your love?
This night needs an escape to your love zone,
So come oh my lover and take me across the sea;
And, why should this trap run over me without my lover?
For the cold of the night had also traped me than thought.
Come oh my lover and see me through,
For i am very lonely and naked;
And there comes the river of my tears again.
I have to overcome this lake and rushed into the ocean,
For your sweet love is enough to see me through the waves of the sea.
Why should this occur to me when, i am cold and lonely?
For a beggar knows his own lover and the blind knows his own way;
But i am alone and lost in my dreams.
Come oh my lover,
Come and see mee through;
Arabah is your name and, i will overcome this water by your sweet love.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis

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A Musical Instrument
What was he doing, the great god Pan,
Down in the reeds by the river?
Spreading ruin and scattering ban,
Splashing and paddling with hoofs of a goat,
And breaking the golden lilies afloat
With the dragon-fly on the river.
He tore out a reed, the great god Pan,
From the deep cool bed of the river:
The limpid water turbidly ran,
And the broken lilies a-dying lay,
And the dragon-fly had fled away,
Ere he brought it out of the river.
High on the shore sat the great god Pan
While turbidly flowed the river;
And hacked and hewed as a great god can,
With his hard bleak steel at the patient reed,
Till there was not a sign of the leaf indeed
To prove it fresh from the river.
He cut it short, did the great god Pan,
(How tall it stood in the river!)
Then drew the pith, like the heart of a man,
Steadily from the outside ring,
And notched the poor dry empty thing
In holes, as he sat by the river.
'This is the way,' laughed the great god Pan
(Laughed while he sat by the river),
'The only way, since gods began
To make sweet music, they could succeed.'
Then, dropping his mouth to a hole in the reed,
He blew in power by the river.
Sweet, sweet, sweet, O Pan!
Piercing sweet by the river!
Blinding sweet, O great god Pan!
The sun on the hill forgot to die,
And the lilies revived, and the dragon-fly
Came back to dream on the river.
Yet half a beast is the great god Pan,
To laugh as he sits by the river,
Making a poet out of a man:
The true gods sigh for the cost and pain, --
For the reed which grows nevermore again
As a reed with the reeds in the river.
poem by Elizabeth Barrett Browning

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My Daddy The Kern River And Me
When I was just a little girl
My daddy said it's time
To show you where I go to think
on a favorite river of mine.
But first you have to promise me
that no one else will know
Where this secret place is
Where nobody else goes.
We stood upon a rock that lies
just over the roaring white waters.
That's so very hard to get to and
that's why no others bother.
The river, called The Kern River has
always been our favorite spot
To go and think, and enjoy the peace
And we went there quite alot.
Some day I hope to go back to the
river where daddy took me.
And stand upon that same old rock
and dream of how things use to be.
The Kern River holds a memory of
the first man I ever loved.
And now I've found another man that
I am sure was sent from above.
I LOVE YOU DADDY
poem by Dianna Nally

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A River For Him
(emmylou harris)
I crossed on the river
Therell be no returning
I crossed all the bridges
I watched them all burning
And now Im a stranger
To a strange land Im driven
Where all is forgotten
And nothings forgiven
But I cried a river
A river for him
Thats deeper and wider
Than Ill ever swim
The heart it will harden
The sorrow will dim
But I cried a river
A river for him
I think of him now
On the road I am taking
And wonder how long
His heart will be breaking
But hell never hear when
The teardrops are falling
Or the sound of my voice
And the name Im calling
But I cried a river
A river for him
Thats deeper and wider
Than Ill ever swim
The heart it will harden
The sorrow will dim
But I cried a river
A river for him
So sweep for the sons
And the dear darling daughters
For the passing of time
And the parting of waters
For all who have passed through
This world long before me
To a far distant shore line
Where no one waits for me
But I cried a river
A river for him
Thats deeper and wider
Than Ill ever swim
The heart it will harden
The sorrow will dim
But I cried a river
A river for him
song performed by by Emmylou Harris

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The River of Me
I launched myself on the river me
Way back when I was two or three
I sailed out through the wall of snow
Beneath the bridge where all kids go
That Cheyenne Bodie was ten feet tall
His voice so deep it filled a hall
And that was who I dreamed I’d be
Until Cochise came on the scene
There was ice on the river and ice on the pond
And the singing nun sang on and on
There were trees on the river bank, cliffs by the sea
And fish galore in the river of me
The fields were full of cows, corn or wheat
The air was thick with bees and heat
The summer lasted all year long
I never knew til it was gone
And then of course came that high school girl
Her glances made my river swirl
More complex than the universe
I never knew what she’d do next
There was light on the river and light on the pond
And the singing nun sang on and on
There were trees on the river bank, cliffs by the sea
And fish galore in the river of me
And up we soared towards the sky
Through songs and dancing by and by
My waterfalls and waves ran high
For just the winking of an eye
And in the distance the quiet sea
was waiting on the river me
And on the banks the weeds grew tall
Where rusting leaves began to fall
Now there’s night on the river and night on the pond
And the singing nun is long since gone
There are trees on the river bank, cliffs by the sea
And memories in the river of me
I launched myself on the river me
Way back when I was two or three
I sailed out through the wall of snow
Beneath the bridge where all kids go
Rivers Of Life
As tiny streams begin to flow, into larger rivers they shall grow.
Tiny streams of gentle peace, of waters that seem not to cease.
But as the rivers begin to grow, the deeper waters begin to flow.
In these deeper waters cease, the gentle flow of endless peace.
These rivers then snake the land, guided by God’s mighty hand.
And each and every river flows, as God directs the way it goes.
We too are guided by God’s hand, as we journey upon this land.
And God directs how life goes, gently guiding wherever it flows.
Coursing through all of our life, there are rivers filled with strife.
But in a river filled with grief, there are currents of gentle relief.
All the temporal rivers of strife, flow to an ocean of Eternal Life.
Where we’ll find eternal relief, from the turbulent waters of grief.
All the waters we pass through, God beforehand always knew.
And He will be right at your side, even when in the deepest tide.
This He told us so we knew, deeper waters He’d see us through.
So when we’re in a rough tide, God will see us to the other side.
The troubled waters that we see, will all end one day in Eternity.
The ending of this troubled life, is the Hope for all in Jesus Christ.
As we enter the peace of Eternity, when His Blessed face we see.
So believe today in Jesus Christ, and you will inherit Eternal Life.
(Copyright ©11/2005)
The Muddy River
I stand upon the bank of the muddy river in awe of what I see.
The river’s roaring waters stumble over each other, rolling beneath its awesome force.
The river widens as the earth crumbles into it.
The power of the river amazes me; its shear force astonishes me,
And its quick movements mesmerize.
My mind drifts with the waters flow,
Traveling further and further downstream.
poem by John Miller

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A Silent River Part2
Sunday is a holiday
I'do again
I'makes again
The memories of the silent river
I'come again
To remember
I'have ever love and miss
Here in the silent river, silent so silence
The memories of the silent river
I'felt his love again in this river
I'felt his longing again in this river
I'felt his kindly again in this river
And i'see again his softly face in the water
In this silent river, silent so silence
The silent river
Makes me remember
I'miss again
the silent river
Makes me to get so many things
Sitting nearby silent river
Come to me the lonely
Come to me the long yearning
Come to me the tears
Come to me the rain
The silent river keep my memories good
In the silent river, silent so silence
Save me now, from all the dejected
To spin around all back
This silence is geeting on my nerves
Were i'am so afraid
You were to be lost in thought
And all was lost to me
Here in the silent river, silent so silence
Ecce Ancilla Domini.
Behold the Handmaid of the Lord, be it done unto me according to Thy word.'
The Angelus
The bells from St. Mary's still rings in the twilight
though I am a million miles away
from my hometown in which I was raised.
I hear them this early evening,
somehow they ring out this end of day
that falls, lies, then drowns
into the waters off this big city river bridge
where I sit alone,
just thinking
across the river
Ophelia closes her shop
the books standing alone, now
in perfect attention
waiting to be held
waiting to be read
I understand the books
this river's light and its reflections hold me now
and that, that is good
like the light always seems to be
though its passing will silence
the mourning birds
deepening my melancholia
like the waters of this river....
still, for now
the light shines
as the Angelus Bells ring
the light dancing
across the waters of this wide river
(Mars and Venus ascending)
that sameness of light reflects
in the eyes, the smile of Ophelia
who closes the doors
on the books
in the shop
who wait to be held
who wait to be read
who wait to be understood
as we all do
or hope to
before the Angelus Bells
ring us out of our days....
poem by R. James Sterzinger

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Dog River Blues
Well I first kissed you on a hollow log
Down by the river they call the dog
We fell in love and we vowed that day
Like the flow of the river our love wont change
Well we married that spring and we built a house
On the bank of the river where the rock juts out
Now the rivers still here but youre long gone
You left me and the river here all alone
I got the dog river blues
Ive walked holes in both my shoes
Now I still got the river but I aint got you
I got the dog river blues
Well the rain came down and the river rose up
Filled up the cab on my pickup truck
It came in the house and down the hall
And washed your picture right off the wall
Chorus
Well my heart still yearns and the river still rolls
And I pray someday itll bring you home
So if you change your mind honey Ill be here
Waiting on the banks of that oldog river
Chorus
song performed by by Alan Jackson

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Waterway Crossing
The river flowed
Serenely at first
Then turbulently
Before finally drying up
Still, his effervescence,
Not his evanescence
Is what wells up in my memory
For his waters, running,
Unleashed a dam in my soul
That the words stuck within
Now rush forth unrelenting
A whole decade's worth of words
I never knew how to speak before
So I am grateful to the river
For tapping gently at my core
Yet sadder all the same
To realize, that beautiful river far away
Had to stop flowing
Before the one inside of me
Could start pouring out at will
Nevertheless, my river shall go on
It shan't be kept silent
It shan't be quieted by sorrow
Perhaps one day it'll flow,
As all rivers eventually do,
Straight into the great big ocean
Where the first river had gone on to
And when our waters meet
He would not know me
He would not realize his feat
He would not greet me like a sister
And even so, the crossing would be sweet
poem by Donna Dolorical

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And... The River Runs Through It
Those sweet memories still linger in my mind
The chain of mountains, The birds singing their song,
The outspread meadows...
And the river that runs through it!
I still see us walking along the river bank holding each other's hand.
And as we lie down on the grass, Interlocked in arms, looking at the sky,
The rock sings for us, a melodious song,
As the river runs through it!
I still go there
Sometimes in dreams and sometimes in real.
The birds are still singing and the rock still sings.
Everything is unchanged except the fact that
You are nowhere to be seen.
You have crossed over to the other side of the river,
The outstretched field of heaven!
And as I sit on the grass, sorrow grips my mind
And... The river runs through it!
poem by Arti Honrao

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Aqueous Transmission
Im floating down a river
Oars freed from
Their homes long ago
Lying face up on the floor
Of my vessel
I marvel at the stars
And feel my heart overflow
Further down the river
Two weeks without my lover
Im in this boat alone
Floating down a river
Named emotion
Will I make it back to shore?
Or drift into the unknown
Further down the river
Im building an antenna
Transmissions will be sent
When I am through
Maybe we can meet again
Further down the river
And share what
We both discovered
Then revel in the view
Further down the river
Im floating down a river
song performed by by Incubus

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Dams On The Cuyahoga
Just west
of the Lake,
meanders
the burning river.
The river
in my dreams.
The river on fire.
The river
that oozes
rather than flows.
The river
in which
a person
does not drown
but decays.
And there
the river sits,
waiting for me
to come back home.
poem by Holden Solo

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The River Flows
The river flows quiet and swift
It twists and turns as the waters drift
It branches and breaks—its fingers entwine
It grows and grows—snakes like a vine.
The river with the soft scent of a calm day
With the smell of clean—hanging—still—in the grey
And sweetness carried on the breath of morning
It caresses the river—the waters flowing.
The river—crystalline from winter melt
And sweet with the summer soon felt
It tastes of springtime—the season between
And flows the river—so blue and clean.
The river—its lazy trickle of water
The musical rhythm—the ocean’s daughter
It whispers and murmurs—a song of its own
Playing over and over—in continuous drone.
The river—so clear and cool
The water flows—the color like a jewel
Its soft arms embrace the shore
The river surging from the days before.
The river flows quiet and swift
It twists and turns as the waters drift
It branches and breaks—its fingers in twine
It grows and grows—snakes like a vine.
poem by Kailey Jennings

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