Having A Whale Of A Time!
'Gangway! Gangway! I'm coming through! '
The massive whale declared!
'Yes, move aside, I'm wide, it's true!
If quick, you won't get scared!
I'll wave goodbye as I swim past!
Then I'll bid you farewell...
My, my, I'm really going fast!
As if you couldn't tell...'
'The new kid on the block, that's me!
I've not been here before!
I've put on weight, that's plain to see...
I'm bound to eat much more!
One day, I might be twice the size!
If that were possible!
I'll exercise, don't worry, guys!
I'll still look wonderful! '
'It's warm today, I'm feeling spry...
Quite frisky, don't you know?
And when I feel I'm on a high,
There's no point going slow...
I'm on my way to who knows where...
That could be miles, OK?
Yes, move aside, don't stop and stare!
Gangway! Gangway! Gangway! '
Denis Martindale, copyright, October 2011.
poem by Denis Martindale
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Now all the lovely days are past
Now all the lovely days are past,
The hours of sun and leagues of sea,
And starry nights that lay between
Yourself and me.
Our boat has left the sea behind.
She lies beside the friendly dock.
And soon the gangway will go down,
And lips will meet, and hands will lock,
And carriers will come climbing up
To take my things and leave us free.
There's trams and streets and home at last
For you and me.
poem by Lesbia Harford
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Cracks In The Mirror
Cracks in the Mirror
The ship’s gone, sailed without me,
alone in a hotel room I sweat and try
to stop my hands from trembling;
they threw me ashore, the bastards;
I looked nonchalant walking down
the gangway, two fingers in the air;
I have to leave this room, must walk
tall, I’m a real tough guy- get that right-
but first I need a little drink or two.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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Unspoken Betrayal
It was not that she was my girlfriend she worked in a bar
and men was a part of her life and economic resources, but
For the duration she was my friend. You liked her too, but
the unspoken law was to keep away from your mate’s woman.
I was on duty and saw you sneak ashore at midnight.
Next day you avoided me. Nothing was said, we are all free
to follow our own moral norm, but we never met for drinks
anymore, whether in Rio de Janeiro or Buenos Aires.
A winter day in Amsterdam, and it was noon, I saw you walk
down the gangway, suitcase in hand, you didn’t turn to wave.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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Prologue to a Saga
Maidens, gather not the yew,
Leave the glossy myrtle sleeping;
Any lad was born untrue,
Never a one is fit your weeping.
Pretty dears, your tumult cease;
Love's a fardel, burthening double.
Clear your hearts, and have you peace-
Gangway, girls: I'll show you trouble.
poem by Dorothy Parker
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Pillow Talk
When meerkats taunt their predators,
They lounge upon the ground...
As if to say, 'You can't catch us!
We each hear every sound...
And we've got eyes that see for miles,
Each day from east to west...
You'll always see us full of smiles,
As we know we're the best! '
That's why the meerkats feel so close
And cuddle up real tight...
They know it aggravates their foes,
From whom they soon take flight!
'Yeah, bring it on! Come, on, just try!
Just see how far you get!
We're feeling great! We're feeling spry!
We're really not upset! '
The meerkats smirked as meerkats do,
To them, it's one long laugh!
They take the longterm point of view
And don't do things by half...
Together now, they're quite a team,
All cosy lying there...
They're proud to be living the dream,
With sunshine everywhere...
Denis Martindale, copyright, October 2011.
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Pillow Talk'.
More Stephen Gayford poems here:
denis-martindale-dot-blogspot-dot-com
poem by Denis Martindale
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Sand In The Mouth
The hot Earth blisters
Opening to the unwitting tear of
Man’s insensitive hand
The glaciers crack and crumble
Centuries plunging into
Too warm waters
Fish and bird
Too soon entombed in
The rising wave
The frail creatures who
Cannot protest lie
Twitching in the gathering dust
Dry are the bones of
A million lost hopes
Broken in a desert of mind
But bland machines
Continue to grind and shake
Dollars making heroes out of
Plaster and Paris who
Fancy themselves
Immortal.
(Previously published in Gangway, Issue 30-31,2004)
poem by Laurence Overmire
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Adopt A Whale
As wondrous as the stars at night,
That shine so bright and strong,
The precious joy that brings delight
Is that the whale has song.
The siren of the sapphire seas,
With tunes so lyrical...
To me, these are the things that please,
With each a miracle...
Perhaps it tames the savage beast,
As one of God's celebs
That glides below from west to east
Mid music of the depths...
Perhaps not with another whale,
But there and all alone,
With love his only Holy Grail...
Or Philosopher's Stone...
Like happy humans humming tunes,
Like hummingbirds and such,
The lonesome whale's seen many moons
And dreams of love so much...
When whalesong's played, we listen close,
To each new siren call...
There's only one thing each whale knows,
In life, true love is all...
Denis Martindale, copyright, October 2011.
Web site: wwf-dot-org-dot-uk/Adopt_A_Whale
poem by Denis Martindale
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Whalesong
As wondrous as the stars at night,
That shine so bright and strong,
The precious joy that brings delight
Is that the whale has song.
The siren of the sapphire seas,
With tunes so lyrical...
To me, these are the things that please,
With each a miracle...
Perhaps it tames the savage beast,
As one of God's celebs
That glides below from west to east
Mid music of the depths...
Perhaps not with another whale,
But there and all alone,
With love his only Holy Grail...
Or Philosopher's Stone...
Like happy humans humming tunes,
Like hummingbirds and such,
The lonesome whale's seen many moons
And dreams of love so much...
When whalesong's played, we listen close,
To each new siren call...
There's only one thing each whale knows,
In life, true love is all...
Denis Martindale, copyright, October 2011.
Web site: wwf-dot-org-dot-uk/Adopt_A_Whale
poem by Denis Martindale
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Journey Home
The elephant was on her way,
Her calf was close nearby,
You should've seen their bodies sway,
Both marching, heads held high!
'Keep up with me! Left, right! Left, right! '
The calf was telling Mum,
The two of them were quite a sight,
Since so far had they come...
For many miles, the calf endured,
Without a thought to stop,
But Mum, of course, was quite assured,
His legs would flip and flop...
His trunk would droop and trail the ground,
His pace no longer fast,
With barely strength to make a sound,
As even more miles past...
And sure enough, she heard those words,
That parents often get...
The journey home, it's for the birds!
'Hey, Mum, are we there yet! ? '
'A few miles more! ' she told him straight...
He moaned and groaned, of course...
It's just right then, though life was great,
He'd rather be a horse!
Denis Martindale, copyright, October 2012.
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'The Journey Home'.
More Stephen Gayford poems here:
denis-martindale-dot-blogspot-dot-com
poem by Denis Martindale
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When my Geography teacher draws French Alps on the Blackboard?
She could draw maps nicely
and once she said; 'Here the French Alps.'
I was not interesred of the mountains those days?
And mesmerized of of her magical smile!
O that dimples on her both cheeks
When she smiles.
Once a week my usual routine
out of the class without a cause
Probably my mysterious looks at her?
When I was in the port of Marseille in France
A French lady walked along the pier
towards the yacht harbour.
I just came down on the ship's gangway
with a cigarette in my mouth.
And she smiled with me
her dimples on the cheeks
dragged me to my Geography class.
I verified of French Alps
with a stevedore near by
'O it's far away'
he said annoyingly!
I had a sad nostalgic feeling
that how far I was from my motherland?
It haunts me everywhere
in the same manner being an alien
to this unknown World?
nimal dunuhinga
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Heavyweights
Each rhino stands a bulky beast,
My word, they sure stand out!
They start off big, then they're increased,
Then spread their weight about...
Yes, heavyweights, that's how it is!
Their strength self-evident...
To them, their weight seems not amiss,
That's just the way it went!
The rhino's horn is his defence,
It's like an afterthought...
Against the ones who aren't his friends,
So that he won't get caught...
And at forty miles an hour,
Well, you try matching that!
Who can comprehend his power?
With one foot he'd squash you flat...
No wonder that he eats a lot,
So he can run at length...
He's fat, yet doesn't care one jot,
He must keep up his strength!
Well, I'm glad I'm not a rhino,
As bulky as can be...
'Cos I'm quite thin in fact and so
I'm happy being me!
Denis Martindale, copyright, October 2011.
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Heavyweights'.
More Stephen Gayford poems here:
denis-martindale-dot-blogspot-dot-com
poem by Denis Martindale
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Glory
At the crowded gangway they kissed good-bye.
He had half a mind to scold her.
An officer's mother and not keep dry
The epaulet on his shoulder.
He had forgotten mother and fame,
His mind in a blood-mist floated,
But when reeling back from carnage they came,
One told him: "You are promoted!"
His friend smiled up from the wet red sand,
The look was afar, eternal,
But he tried to salute with his shattered hand:
"Room now for another colonel!"
Again he raged in that lurid hell
Where the country he loved had thrown him.
"You are promoted!" shrieked a shell.
His mother would not have known him.
poem by Katharine Lee Bates
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Handsome Beast
The tiger stood his ground one day,
Like posers often do,
To let the others have their say,
Express their point of view...
To stare at him, with jealousy,
Each time his fame increased,
While tigresses looked longingly,
'He's such a handsome beast! '
The tiger stayed still, like a king,
As if the world were his,
While all the rest were wondering
What magic spell is this?
As if they watched him mesmerised,
Fixated and so pleased,
While tigresses all realised,
'He's such a handsome beast! '
Of course, the magic couldn't last,
That's life, we all move on...
Endangered species leave so fast,
They're here... and then they're gone...
For now, he's truly in his prime!
The foremost not the least...
While tigresses think he's sublime,
'He's such a handsome beast! '
Denis Martindale, copyright, January 2012.
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Handsome Beast'.
More Stephen Gayford poems here:
denis-martindale-dot-blogspot-dot-com
poem by Denis Martindale
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A Tall Money Tree At The Edge Of The World Kiss The Pale Blue Sky?
You drive your
Tumbledown car
Barriers a lot!
Poor brakes are not applicable.
Drunken Cops check your tattered driving license
Insurance & etc.,
Beyond the barbed-wire fences
Handsome gangway robbers
Sniff your wallets
Then you recite the prophet's chant?
But you're almost tired
and got down at goodbyes
peaceful grounds?
for the poetess Magnolia in gratitude!
[In the life's unscrupulous factory, cruel machines crush your bones, reproductive testicles to sensitive brain, enzyme spleen to sad heart and the helpless souls believe that their fragrant ashes float in the unseen Heaven? ]-nimal
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A tall money tree at the edge of the World kiss the pale blue sky? Along the serpentine road
You drive your
Tumbledown car
Barriers a lot!
Poor brakes are not applicable.
Drunken Cops check your tattered driving license
Insurance & etc.,
Beyond the barbed-wire fences
Handsome gangway robbers
Sniff your wallets
Then you recite the prophet's chant?
But you're almost tired
and got down at goodbyes
peaceful grounds?
for the poetess Magnolia in gratitude!
[In the life's unscrupulous factory, cruel machines crush your bones, reproductive testicles to sensitive brain, enzyme spleen to sad heart and the helpless souls believe that their fragrant ashes float in the unseen Heaven? ]-nimal
nimal dunuhinga
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Welcome Onboard
Welcome onboard
I don’t care to read of other people dreams it has nothing to do with
me, so I will tell you a real story. The day after my anniversary I walked
along the docks of Faro saw a sign, a cargo ship needed a chief steward.
I walked up the gangway, spoke to the captain and got the job.
On deck when the provision arrived; I was in charge just like before.
The captain came he looked baffled; according to my passport I was 73
and far too old to join a ship. The master thanked me, getting victuals
onboard signing for them and getting the food stuff safely stored.
The ship left without me but her captain saluted me, it was raining no
one saw my tears. Whatever I do these days even driving a car there are
people telling me I’m too old. Yet in Japan their oldest porno star, a man
of 77 and still working, so why will they not let me go back to sea again?
poem by Oskar Hansen
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Lets Take A Walk Around The Block
I never traveled further north than old van courtland park
And never further south than the aquarium
Ive seen the charm of jersey city, but first let me remark
I saw it from the empire state solarium
But weve been putting nickels in the postal savings bank
And when those nickels pile up, we can toddle off in swank
And I dont mean an ordinary cooks tour
I mean a cabin de-luxe tour
Someday well go places
New lands and new faces
The day we quit punching the clock
The future looks pleasant,
But at present
Lets take a walk around the block.
Youre just the companion
I want at grand canyon
For throwing old blades down the rock
The money we have'll go for travel
Meantime, lets walk around the block.
Gangway, well begin
When our, ship comes in
Ill sit on your lap
All over the map
To london in may time
To venice in play time
To paris in time for a frock
To boston in bean time
Darling, meantime
Lets take a walk around the block.
(bridge)
In winter at christmas,
Well visit the isthmus
And see how they lock up a lock
And then in caracas, on a jackass,
Well take a ride around the block.
Well keep to our promise,
To visit st. thomas
And then at jamaica well dock
The prospect is thrilling,
Still I am willing,
Just now to walk around the block.
Onward, to cathay
Then to mandalay
Boom on to bangkok
Praps vladivostok
Well send the folks cables
Accumulate labels
Buy souvenirs till were in hock
But since we are flat in old manhattan
Lets take a walk around the block.
song performed by by Ella Fitzgerald
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Nagasaki mon amour
Nagasaki Mon Amour
There are moments when things become clear. A night, the Pacific Ocean was,
as its name, calm; I sat on deck and listened to the heartbeat of the ship,
which seemed to beat faster when one of the engineers opened the door and
came out on deck. I heard laughter from the mess-room they were playing
cards but I knew I would never be one of them, I had tried, the swagger and
the misogyny, living in a world where women were either whores or mothers.
The ship was bound for Nagasaki, which for the young crew meant little, but
I had been here before and visited a graveyard where Portuguese sailors had
died long time ago when Japan was an unknown land. At sixty I was a relic
and accepted that. Berthed. Walking down the gangway, I didn’t bother to look
back, didn’t shake anyone’s hand- it was dinner time anyway. Before flying back
to Europe I tried to find the Portuguese cemetery, it wasn’t there anymore;
another relic gone.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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Homeward Bound
In predawn darkness, gangway cleared.
All lines cast off, anchor’s aweigh.
Bow turned toward beckoning, open sea.
We proclaim at last, homeward bound.
A rising sun, o’er shadowed peaks.
Touches and warms our stern.
Following winds, caress gently,
then fill canvas, slack to taut.
Our final port, fades to mist.
No longer, elusive horizon we chase.
In search of adventure beyond.
Thoughts n’ dreams, to yon’ homeport turn.
Wanderlust, satisfied at last.
Now we pine, for sunny meade.
The essence of fresh pine break.
Of comforting, home fires burning.
Softness of earth, beneath our feet.
Riding, the rise n’ fall of rolling swell,
we count empty days, n’ dream lonely nights.
Impatient anticipation, of renewed romance,
with loved ones, so long denied.
14May08
poem by Kurt Hearth
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White Lord
The pure white lion chose his spot,
Content that it would do
And there he didn't move a lot,
He just enjoyed the view.
To him, this was another day,
No worries on his mind
And so he let time pass away,
Slow breathing to unwind.
The years had taught him how to live
And if to walk or run
The time to take, the time to give,
The battles to be won.
Of course, by now, the heat was strong,
So why not have a rest?
No point in running all day long,
For who would be impressed?
The white lord in the sky above
Was just like him below,
When that old sun had shone enough,
It gave the moon a go.
Let lion cubs run left and right!
Let lion cubs climb trees!
For now, it was his prime delight
To nestle on his knees.
Denis Martindale, copyright, June 2011.
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'White Lord'.
More Stephen Gayford poems here:
denis-martindale-dot-blogspot-dot-com
poem by Denis Martindale
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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