In water tray (dectina refrain)
Look
at the
bird splashing
in the water,
in clear rainwater,
bathing while slapping wings,
chattering telling others
how nice it is to be washing,
inviting them nearer, splashing them wet.
Look at the bird splashing in the water.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Related quotes
Splash!
Splashing water, Water get,
Shooting jets, Getting wet,
Crystal Clear, Cool Water,
Water, Water, Water matter,
Water's Life, Water let
Living life, Keep alive.
Water, water, we survive.
The sound of fresh rain run-off splashing from the roof reminded me of the sound of urine splashing into a filthy Texaco latrine.
Jack Handey in Deep Thoughts
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Can You Turn?
Can you turn from the sword
that invites-please
'Hang upon me? '
Or shrink back from the
boasting pool that whispers
'Jump'
But I am afraid of blood which
makes me sick
Scalding water on tender skin-
It is terrible, terrible, terrible
Faith is useless here:
I tell you this, it is no illusion
The blood is real and so is the bubbling water
Look carefully:
Behind the road you trod;
rubbed out
Do you believe me?
Look at me!
'Speaking'
But you couldn't... trees they
Were too thick.. they went by
Chanting, chanting, chanting:
It's fine It's fine It's fine
Jump in, jump in, jump in -
But I'm already - splashing, splashing, splashing
Must I beat my way to the riverbank
to prove I'm wet
Outrage danced on my lips, that
Sputtered and danced
Can You Turn?
And around the bend came the
voices fainter and fainter
'the water - the water - the water
is fine
jump in- jump in - jump in-
And no more I was free! !
I dipped my hand in the water
And the drops ran out of
my fingers - the sun lit
into my throat -
What a wonderful, wonderful day
for knowing I thought
'What a wonderful, wonderful place for swimming'
I murmured
And it was true: the water
was cream and silk
The sky was bright as disaster
Suppose they came back?
Suppose they came back!
Was the mutter that crinkled the
edges of being
But the water smoothed in
over the sunshine
'False friends' 'Deceitful loves'
Who has not known these
the world over?
Does it then blot out the sun! ? !
And dry up the river?
Can You Turn?
Jump in, my dear, my dears
my dears-
The water is fine, it's fine, it's
fine
The water- the water- the water
The whisper is treading water
with no body
and not convinced -
But I will learn
I will Learn.... I will learn
Some day I may lead the
chanters myself
Yes it's well to have marching
feet and banners
Even with this
'The water is fine, jump in, '
they cried
Its fine, its fine, its fine
jump in- jump in- jump in
'But I'm already in, ' I screamed
'can't you see, can't you see,
can't you see? '
poem by Isabelle Cooper
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Wonderful Bath Bubbles
Sitting in a bath tub, filled with bubbles
Soaking and erasing all my troubles
Staying in the water till your skin gets wrinkled
Spraying your hair you are getting sprinkled
The water so warm and so inviting
With candles lit, they're your only lighting
Such a pleasure I have found
Just me splashing, not another sound
So if you need a moment of paradise
Fill your bath with bubbles, I'd advise!
poem by Donna Nimmo
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Water
There was a fountain
that flows out in the hillocks
where cold fresh water
sprayed up bubbling and pure.
No borehole water that tastes like mud
or that which streams metallic out of a pipe
and still less the city’s
purified liquid
in which the chemicals are still drifting white,
could smell and taste
like water which comes out of the heart
of the earth
and washed pure by thousands of rocks
splashing clean and clear into a glass.
poem by Gert Strydom
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The Sound Of Water
Tons of water down the drain
Taking those long showers again;
More water splashing in the sink
Only for brushing,
Please stop and think.
Those multiple flushings
Down the bowl
Make you a disrespectful troll
Suffice it to say
Water is a “luxury”
To have each day.
Till now,
Conservation never appealed
But not having any,
Suddenly makes it a big deal.
Water is priceless
When you're in a drought
Some don't have any
And are running out.
So please be mindful
Try not to waste;
It’s quite precious
Every single drop,
You never know
What a gift water is
Until one day it stops.
poem by Carolyn Brunelle
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Even if you dance for you enemy on the rock, he will accuse you of splashing water on him.
Mirror
Swimming in a Cornish sea -
Porpoises! (not Cornish) . a little way from me.
How far?
How far from splashing foot to streamlined tail?
Following the brain down its mazy trail -
thirty yards? a million years?
Too far? Not far enough?
But eye to eye
(inner eye to inner eye)
it's not so far
from grain of sand to spinning star.
Here wave is sea
and sea is wave once more,
no them no me,
a timeless beating on a timeless shore.
What a place to be alone
(alone with one's friends)
in such a busy, splashing sea;
alone with all the world
(and you and me) .
poem by Brian Taylor
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As We Fall
as we fall into the water
let us clasp our hands together
bright day is done,
black night has come
washing over our heads
an icy wind is blowing
grasp the liferaft we are throwing
we'll make it through, with one another
though our minds may start to sever
and float off into space
keep your head above black water
keep it steady, do not falter
we'll help you float, if you try to try
if we help each other, we cannot die
I know it seems absurd now
as we fall through frigid water
see the surf is getting harder
see the sad vieled moon that is not glowing
if we must survive, we must keep rowing
through the murky water
shadowed creatures grap our legs
wieghing them down, sinking like kegs
gasping for a breath of air
splashing in the witch's lair
NO! keep your head above the water
the sandy shore is not in sight
a sky, and in it, no shining light
this world we must survive
stay together as we dive
into dark & murky waters
poem by Gina Prettybrowneyes
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In A Garden
Gushing from the mouths of stone men
To spread at ease under the sky
In granite-lipped basins,
Where iris dabble their feet
And rustle to a passing wind,
The water fills the garden with its rushing,
In the midst of the quiet of close-clipped lawns.
Damp smell the ferns in tunnels of stone,
Where trickle and plash the fountains,
Marble fountains, yellowed with much water.
Splashing down moss-tarnished steps
It falls, the water;
And the air is throbbing with it.
With its gurgling and running.
With its leaping, and deep, cool murmur.
And I wished for night and you.
I wanted to see you in the swimming-pool,
White and shining in the silver-flecked water.
While the moon rode over the garden,
High in the arch of night,
And the scent of the lilacs was heavy with stillness.
Night, and the water, and you in your whiteness, bathing!
poem by Amy Lowell
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While the summer rain falls angrily
While the summer rain falls angrily
and lighting bolts hits reaching everywhere,
we are running to the washing line
to remove clothes.
The dogs run along splashing
en everywhere in the house
mud spots are treaded in
and it’s nice to be dry and cosy
in the warmth of the house.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Pothole In The Road
The car drives through,
Suddenly the front end dips severely,
Dirty water splashes all around,
The car continues forward,
Now the rear end dips down,
The dirty water splashes again,
A continuous parade of vehicles,
Follow suit,
An endless chain of dipping and splashing,
reminds me of a broken record.
Some of the water reaches me,
Time to go.
8/1/11 Alton Texas
poem by Juan Olivarez
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Square Water
SQUARE WATER
When the bus collapsed on the road
To the capital
A man in blue opened the hood
And spit at the engine
While off to the side
Down a rough slope
Was a square cut body of water
Neutral and calm for all:
Water buffalo, children and dogs.
A radiantly happy girl is climbing out.
The buffalo gaze over at two men
In white pith helmets and black clothes
Who seem to be digging a hole.
A bicycle is parked between the children
And the men
The water is roiled by swimmers
Splashing in the brown liquid.
Bruegel should have been there
To mix the ordinary with something
Unexpected:
Perhaps a boy with wings falling
Off in the distance.
That rapid movement might have caught
The eyes of the buffalo
But the men would have been too busy
Digging and the children would have been
Having too much fun to look up.
When the bus started I framed
A shot that included them all except
For the imaginary falling boy
Who only hit the water in my imagination.
poem by Burgess Needle
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Abandon to Physical Sensation
And I swam and swam and dived
into the waves and rode them out
and tumbled about and became a
water sprite and rolled over and
over in the shallow water and ran
into the waves, splashing up a
wide new ball-room dress, beautiful
circles of diamond glitter in the sun,
diving into the cool water again and
changing into a dolphin, water my
natural medium, experiencing sensory
ecstasy, swimming fast and deep,
feeling the delicious fatigue, turning
over and becoming one with the foam,
bubbling with the wave crest, in total
abandon to physical sensation…
poem by Louise Tredoux
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Our Bird In Your Cage
we have this bird
we both own it and love it and care for it
our bird
and you have this cage
that you only own
golden, new and strong and as you say it
so reliable
that when our bird is in that cage
it will be safe
and cannot escape
we feed this bird together
and give it water and birdseeds
and a place of twigs and swing
where the bird can play
and perch upon
like it is on a tree
days and years
we keep this bird in your cage
and we see it is dying
and wanting to be free
yet you say, this sickness is just temporary
time heals what has wounded it
and shall forget the power of its wings
days and more years
we keep this bird in your cage
and i have not listened at all
to the sad song of that bird
her waning chirps
her weakened wings
her way of losing hold to the dreams of its wings
today we see this bird is dead
but you have no sadness at all
you say, you will buy another bird
again to be kept in your cage
i could have told you
i am the bird in your cage and i too have forgotten the power of
my wings
i could have told you, i have long died
and have forgotten what freedom is, what love is, what i am
in the first place. How can i ever tell you?
you are my cage.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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A hippo at dawn
The cracking branches as it rushed in
had a shocking kind of thunder to them
and where it entered the swollen river
I heard the rushing water splashing
and at that breaking of day
the scene was something primitive
as if from the very beginning of mankind
while that huge animal lingered with gaping jaws,
jaws that could open wide enough
to snap the small rowing boat in two
in which I was crossing the stream
while like in a kind of dream
everything was happening very slowly
before suddenly the water boiled
as in great might it turned away,
and the water swallowed it.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Summer All The Time
The sky is as blue as a sapphire
Graceful birds keep flying higher
Time to relax and time to have fun
Eating ice-cream in the sun
Eating ice-pops with my friend
We hope this day will never end
The beach is full of smiles and laughter
People tend to be less nastier
Everyone is wearing sun hats
Others are sun bathing on comfy mats
Some people have sun cream on
Children are playing with water bombs
Waves splashing upon the shore
Sun burnt people are very sore!
poem by Abbey FutcherElliott
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Not Waving but Drowning
I was to far out further than anyone should be, I screamed for help but they were silenced by the waves so no one could hear my cries
I was to far out further than anyone should be, and I looked to you for help but you didn't see that, you thought I was splashing and having fun but I wasn't I was drowning and you didn't even notice
I was to far out further than anyone should be, I started to become restless as the waves toppled over me and as the sun beat down I realized the end was near and I was tired of fighting, so I closed my eyes and let the waves take me away but by the time you realized something was wrong it was already to late, I was already gone
I was to far out further than anyone should be, not waving but drowning, looking back on it all you finaly seen that I wasn't splashing and having fun but that I needed help
Sadly by the time you realized all of this you were laying a rose on my coffin
poem by Erin Tejeda
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Hands Of The Wind
Hands of the Wind
Playing with water
Satisfying himself
With drowning vessels
On depth of ocean
Hide inside plants
The little red fish
Trembling and sad
Two little children
With sound of laughter
Splashing water
Onto eachother
Hands of the wind
Trembled the trees
Gathered the clouds
Two children's laughter
Vanished in sky's anger
poem by Homa Mousavi
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The Weeping Garden
It’s terrible! – all drip and listening.
Whether, as ever, it’s loneliness,
splashing a branch, like lace, on the window,
or whether perhaps there’s a witness.
Choked there beneath its swollen
burden – earth’s nostrils, and audibly,
like August, far off in the distance,
midnight, ripening slow with the fields.
No sound. No one’s in hiding.
Confirming its pure desolation,
it returns to its game – slipping
from roof, to gutter, slides on.
I’ll moisten my lips, listening:
whether, as ever, I’m loneliness,
and ready maybe for weeping,
or whether perhaps there’s a witness.
But, silence. No leaves trembling.
Nothing to see: sobs, and cries
being swallowed, slippers splashing,
between them, tears and sighs.
poem by Boris Pasternak
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