A Flowing River
Like a flowing river
our life is constantly changing
hitting rough waters
and stony shores.
Then lying in peace
within tranquil pools
and some days we are
tossed hither and tither
then gain our momentum to carry on
just like a flowing river
poem by David Harris
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Related quotes
Dreamy River
There's a dreamy river flowing
Down the street from my house
I walk down there after work
But I paddle my way home
There's a dreamy river flowing
On every street corner in the world
And if that young moon is in the sky
She'll wink at you and let you pass by
There's a dreamy river flowing
From my refrigerator into my mouth
It only costs a few dollars
To keep those shelves stocked
There's a dreamy river flowing
From my mouth into my gut
There's a dreamy river flowing
From my wank into the street
There's a dreamy river flowing
In my mind as I lay to sleep
There's a dreamy river flowing
From a town I've never been to
Across this great country
And also from overseas
Sometimes from people's kitchens
Transversing time and space
I float down this river
Every night and day
There's a dreamy river flowing
From the hops and the malts and sugar
I call it my brother, I call it my wife
I call it my true friend
Let me float upon you dreamy river
And drown all these sorrows
That call to me from pasts I've severed
poem by Spencer Breau
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Flowing Red River
I dive head first into the flowing red river.
It's acrid taste fills my mouth.
I drown in it's putrid depths.
My heart pounds and excitement grips.
As the flowing red river drips.
I cannot contain my growing glee.
I cannot wait to feed on it's bounty.
From down below I stand up straight.
I rise to greet this wonderful fate.
The flowing red river fills me up.
I bend right down from it to suck.
In and out I feel such love.
It cleans my soul flowing red river runs.
I feel it right now it's almost gone.
The pinnacle of joy hits like a bomb.
Yet I'm sad when the flowing red rivers gone.
Fear not though we'll always meet.
When the flowing red river comes to greet.
poem by Michael McParland
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Summer Day on the Current River
for Robin on our 22nd anniversary
The placid Current River ever growing
brightly shimmers in the mid-day sun,
its azure waters cool and southward flowing.
Buried caverns through the limestone bring
fresh fountains pouring cold ablution
into the placid Current ever growing.
Around the bend another rushing spring
bursts forth to lend aquatic motion
to the crystal water’s southward flowing.
Cheerful floaters revel, tanned and smiling,
celebrating pleasant summer fun
upon the tranquil waters ever growing.
Gentle breezes set the leaves to rustling
while time stands still for everyone
along the peaceful river calmly flowing.
Shaded skies foretell the day’s conclusion
and a stellar fantasy has now begun
to dance above the moonlit river glowing:
its azure waters cool and southward flowing.
June 26, 2009
poem by Robert Charles Howard
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Assets
O flowing river feed the well
Before you leave and say: “farewell”
You've gone away, the well is dry
I often ask and wonder why
It’s just a hole, an empty shell
O flowing river feed the well
You said that you would never end
And I believed you were a friend
I love that well, there is no doubt
It’s since dried up and left a drought
O flowing river feed the well
And keep me safe within your spell
The river’s gone, the well dried up
It left me with an empty cup
I'm lost in this financial hell
O flowing river feed the well
poem by Amera Andersen
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If life’s a river
If life’s a river
Flowing on a course
Long proven to be the best way
To reach the sea, then flow on
If the rocks and boulders
Are the cross
Each one of us is given to bear
Let our river flow around rocks
Over time, the sharp edged rocks will
Be rounded by the rivers flow
Ever there, but not so jagged
As they were before
The ever changing banks have seen
A trickle grow into a youthful stream
And swelling into a mighty river
That sometimes mingles with another
Every river looks for a path
That’s less rocky, a shorter way to the sea
Ever quietly flowing
Ceaselessly searching
Until one day, when it is time
A new path opens
The river changes path
And yet, every river pours into the sea.
poem by Anita Atina
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Emotions, Flowing Down A River...
Emotions, Flowing Down A River
Now, Who Will Give Her
Desire, To Reach Across The Space
Splash Cold Water In Her Face?
Tragic Tears, Within A Pool
Streaming Hot and Torrent Cruel
Like Acid To The Touch
Hurts Her Hope So Much
Where’s The Rain, Clean and Cold?
Softly Rinse, Seep Into Her Soul
Her Crystal Drops, Dissolved Trust
Flowing Downstream, Far From Us
Emotions, Flowing Down A River
Now, Who Will Deliver
Courage To Reach Across The Space?
She Slaps Away Any Embrace
Can You Go Against Her High Tides?
She Dams Her Own Broken Pride
She Can’t Forget They Took
Her Every Bubbling Brook
She’s Gone Past The River’s Bank
The Strong Currents, Slowly Sank
Drowned The Confused Flood
Drained Her Own Life-Blood …
Emotions, Flowing Down a River
Have Mercy and Forgive her
Who Will Reach Across The Space
And Remember Her Fluid Grace? …
... Flowing, Down A River
poem by MoonBee Canady
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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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River Words Flowing
river words are always flowing
into dream heart peace loving
minds
sacred symbols
sear seal third eye piercing
enlightenment firm binds
be still silent meditater hears
great spirit creator
enter crystal flowing waters
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Not About This
It is not about the classic rivers
of mythology, not about Acheron,
river of woe with its lines of unemployed
holding their migraines in their hands.
Or Cocytus, river of lamentation
where the elderly have gone
to grieve their condition.
It cannot be this.
Not the river of fire,
the lava flowing from another volcanic shudder
into the homes of the living & the dead,
& into the stories of new generations.
For these are byproducts,
shining as they are-
It is not about the river of forgetfulness,
inviting as the night visits the tortured mind.
No, not this, or the waters of hate
& the butchered bodies stacked along shorelines
& the lost women trying to find their sons,
or the river of return,
not the red river of consolation
wound about the heart
& through the vineyards,
or how our loves came to be,
then left us again to ourselves.
It is not about the oldest & saddest river,
the river of time, with flashes of metallic film
sliding by, gathering momentum
& the sufaces of faces,
the faces of phantoms,
(I have seen myself among them.)
It cannot be about theology,
or if it is, it is the theology of celestial mechanics,
the giant narrative of everything,
the source of energy, (& its forms,)
crunching itself out through the heavens.
poem by Michael Gessner
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Just Follow The Flow
just follow the flow
of words like the water flowing on the river
like the paper boat on the water flowing to the river
like the river flowing through the edges of banks
above the stones and pebbles of
everything swerving from mountain to mountain
of least resistances
the rocks that block your path you
just kiss them and then you go
following the flow again with the wind above you
just folow the flow of your thoughts in your heart
you do not even like to see
everything is smooth, freely flowing, taking shape
and form and having scent and perfume and so exuding
and then
an explosion inside well kept and taken care of
it is great, it is really great that feeling
so short and quick and yet so appealing
no one hears it except you because you
love it and so it has become so real
to your touch
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Lifes Like A River
Music :ulrich roth, rudolf schenker
Lyrics:c. fortman
As years are passing by
Silence becomes your friend
You see the world in a different way
Dont be afraid of getting old
Lifes still full of joy
And the beauty of the past is rejoicing your mind
When days are getting short
And winter comes along
Your life slows down and down
Like a river is getting wide
The worlds have lost their voice
You remember your morning flowing to the endless sea
When days are getting short
And winter comes along
Your life slows down and down
Like a river is getting wide
The worlds have lost their voice
You remember your morning flowing to the endless sea
Lifes like a river in the mountain
Lifes like a sea without end
Lifes like a river in the mountain
Lifes like a sea without end
Lifes like a river in the mountain
Lifes like a sea without end
Lifes like a river in the mountain
Lifes like a sea without end
song performed by by Scorpions
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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It's a river
When the time keeps passing and the world goes round
and the sea is crashing at the cliffs and the sounds
erupting as the seabirds cry, you can watch the river
as the time goes by
And it's like it's holy and it can be hell
and you feel so lonely and you fear the smell
of the guns that fire then you see the light
of a rainbow dawning and you realise
that the river's flowing as the time goes by
And you met the people and you knew them well
and you said you loved them and you rang the bell
in the tree of life you watched them grow
and the world is turning as the river flows
The earth smells good and the sky turns gold
when the birds are singing and you bless the old
you can kiss your woman and it feels so right
as you touch the river as the time goes by
As you stand barefoot upon the morning shore
and you feel the centuries of death and war
and the wind is biting and it tears your skin
and the river's flowing where its always been
And the river washes and the river's clean
and the soul remembers where the river's been
as you watch it tumble and you watch it flow
your life's a river now you know, now you know
your life's a river now you know.
poem by Charles M. Moore
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Deodorant
Shampoo and deodorant,
The arcade and the pizza parlour;
Being merciful to him and her,
But it all came to pass! !
Do not worry about it,
For he or she does it all the time;
And your whisper is like a shock to me.
Flowing tap,
Flowing water,
Flowing stream,
Flowing river;
Elegance to the muse of your love,
But the heavens and the earth are watching us.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Glory Be
Waters flowing though my veins
Nothing ever stays the same
Waters flowing down my side
Turn the water into wine
Wheres the courage I once had
Wheres the strength I once possessed
To stand up tall and face the music
Laughing in the face of death
Heres a boy whose hands are bleeding
Though hes never had a scratch
Glory come and glory be
Waters flowing now at last
Chorus
Like a bad dream I once had where
Everyone but me knew something
Walking blind through the burning fields
The dead brigade is on my heels
They follow me--they follow me
Waters flowing though my veins
Nothing ever stays the same
Flows outside for all to see
Water flows through you and me
Nothing ever stays the same
Water turns to wine again
Drink the wine & eat the wafer
Lash the skin & scream together
Chorus
Bridge
Waters flowing through me
Cut me open--let me bleed
Silence is golden
(but) shout it out--shout it out--shout
Waters flowing through my veins
Nothing ever stays the same
Through eyes that once were blind with passion
Everything looks soft and grey
Without color or rough edges
Without fire to burn the skin
Without pride and without reason
Water turns to wine again
Waters flowing through my veins
Tell me now its all the same
Tell me that it doesnt matter
Tell me everythings alright
Chorus
Waters flowing through my veins
Nothing ever stays the same
Glory come and glory be
Glory come to you and me
Waters flowing through my veins . . .
song performed by by Oingo Boingo
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Washing Of The Water
River, river carry me on
Living river carry me on
River, river carry me on
To the place where I come from
So deep, so wide, will you take me on your back for a ride
If I should fall, would you swallow me deep inside
River, show me how to float
I feel like Im sinking down
Thought that I could get along
But here in this water
My feet wont touch the ground
I need something to turn myself around
Going away, away towards the sea
River deep, can you lift up and carry me
Oh roll on though the heartland
til the sun has left the sky
River, river carry me high
til the washing of the water make it all alright
Let your waters reach me like she reached me tonight
Letting go, its so hard
The way its hurting now
To get this love untied
So tough to stay with thing
cause if I follow through
I face what I denied
I get those hooks out of me
And I take out the hooks that I sunk deep in your side
Kill that fear of emptiness, loneliness I hide
River, oh river, river running deep
Bring me something that will let me get to sleep
In the washing of the water will you take it all away
Bring me something to take this pain away
song performed by by Peter Gabriel
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Cant Slow Down
My heart is a drum thats pounding.
My mind is a note thats sounding.
Let the choir sing your praises.
Ill state my case in four-note phrases.
Can I get a witness to my rate?
Will anyone quantify my fate?
While Ive been waiting for you,
Lives Ive been creating for you.
I cant slow down.
Like a river Im flowing on and on.
Some way, somehow.
I will find out where I am going.
Someday.
The meaning of life is to attack.
Theres a special joy in coffee black.
When I see the red, the black, the green,
Im seeing the color of my dreams.
My song is a tree thats hollow.
My mantra is I must follow
Where those hooded eyes are leading.
I cannot be stopped for speeding.
I cant slow down.
Like a river, Im flowing on and on.
Some way, some how.
I will find out where I am going.
I cant slow down.
Like a river, Im flowing on and on.
Some way, some how.
I will find where I am going.
Someday.
song performed by by Information Society
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Notes At The Arkansas
River as persistent
as the enduring thrust
for self-preservation -
Carving by currents
and flowing within
a necessary course
Determined
by ancient
inherent law.
Oblivious to danger
and ignorant of doubt
it is perpetually unconcerned -
The river carelessly
generous
without discrimination -
Ever sustaining
trees, grasses and
underbrush shelters
Home to life in its waters
and nourishment for those
that come to the banks
Never quarreling with any
human imposition
be it sport or utility
And always providing
the perfect primordial
music for meditation
Always offering
an immaculate lullaby
for the tranquil restorative
of sleep.
poem by Frank Russell
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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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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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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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