The small writer
As I walk on Guido Gezelle’s birth ground,
Bruges, a city full of people is spread around me,
there’s a small boat with sails flapping in the wind,
cathedrals and channels are everywhere, a place where you can love
and in a channel there’s something small circling
dressed in black armoured skin
but maybe it’s only my imagination
comprehending secret words written on the water surface
and when I look up into the sky
there are clouds closing
and suddenly it’s as if the clouds open
with His great presence coming down,
I have to cover my eyes against the bright light
and I see a water beetle drawing the names of God on the water.
[Reference: Het Schrijverke by Guido Gezelle. Bruges is a city in Belgium.]
poem by Gert Strydom
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Related quotes
Nothing Will Be As Wonderful
Nothing will be as wonderful, as that spring had been
the trees were full of flowers row upon row
the water in the channels reflected bright like glass
in the distance seagulls turned around a ship’s mast
flew away in lines above us.
Nothing will be as wonderful, as that spring had been
where your hand had fitted fine and precisely into mine
where I fell more intimately in love with you
the water in the channels reflected bright like glass
we had seen an otter splashing at rocks in the sea
while the boat floated recoiling over the sea.
Nothing will be as wonderful, as that spring had been
where now I reach in vain for you
and forever you are separated from me,
the water in the channels reflects bright like glass
while the hot spring rain, wash away my tears
with dire pain cutting through me;
nothing will be as wonderful, as that spring had been
the water in the channels reflects bright like glass.
poem by Gert Strydom
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In a City
In an eastern city where I won’t return
there is a winged stone light and huge
lightning strikes this winged stone
I close my eyes to remember
in my city where I won’t return
there is heavy and nourishing water
the one who gives you a cup of this water
gives you the faith you will still return
in my faraway city that has gone
from all maps of the world there is bread that can nourish
throughout life black as the faith you will see again
stone bread water and the presence of towers at dawn
poem by Zbigniew Herbert
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I Am Water
Ah xxxxx
there is a warm place
in my body
it is water
an ocean entering tributaries
that have carried silver fish
and you love, love, love
love, the silver of these fish
that carry the sun on their backs
they have travelled long distances
beneath my skin
bodies flapping like open limbs
satisfied
Ah xxxxx
I cannot flow
other than as water
this is my love, water
water,
spreading over you
loosening feelings
moistening stones
the glistening translucent
froth of sirens screaming
leaves golden floating in your eyes
everything washed away
except the great bruises of passion
that turn yellow, xxxxx
on the inside, weeping,
coalescing, warm final tears that shine
like the lights of a sad, sunken ferry
submerged under skin
in layers of silent turgid sacs
Ah xxxxx
we are water
we are falling water
we are the voice of water
and we are wet with its love
poem by L.B. Temuco
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I Am Water 2
Ah xxxxx
there is a warm place
in my body
it is water
an ocean entering tributaries
that have carried silver fish
and you love, love, love
love, the silver of these fish
that carry the sun on their backs
they have travelled long distances
beneath my skin
bodies flapping like open limbs
satisfied
Ah xxxxx
I cannot flow
other than as water
this is my love, water
water,
spreading over you
loosening feelings
moistening stones
the glistening translucent
froth of sirens screaming
leaves golden floating in your eyes
everything washed away
except the great bruises of passion
that turn yellow, xxxxx
on the inside, weeping,
coalescing, warm final tears that shine
like the lights of a sad, sunken ferry
submerged under skin
in layers of silent turgid sacs
Ah xxxxx
we are water
we are falling water
we are the voice of water
and we are wet with its love
poem by For Matilde
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Landscape 28 Meniscus
The molecules of water are held together
By weak electrical forces
That extend in all directions.
At the water surface, the upward forces,
Having nowhere watery to go,
Lie along the surface
To form a thin skin, called a meniscus.
This is the skin that holds water drops,
Supports water striders,
Even skips stones.
I came once to an Adirondack Lake
On a still moonlit night.
The lake seemed full of fireflies,
Flashes of light in the water
As far as the eye could see.
I finally discovered the source of the light,
The sudden movements of water striders
Riding the meniscus
Bent the water surface
Into a curved mirror
That reflected glimmers of moonlight.
The Japanese make a flower arrangement
In a vessel with a perfectly level rim.
The vessel is filled with water
To a level above the rim
The water is held from overflowing
By a curved meniscus
That bends light like a lens.
In the center of the water
Floats a single perfect flower
That sends tiny ripples across the water surface
And crinkles the meniscus
When the vessel is vibrated.
poem by Stewart McKenzie
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Dripping Water
Dripping water, dripping water,
everywhere!
from the horizon of heaven,
on the land, on the sand,
makes me happy, and so elated,
Dripping water, dripping water,
everywhere!
from the dark black clouds,
on the leaves, on the tress,
gives them a slow quick bath,
Dripping water, dripping water,
everywhere!
from the thunderstruck light,
on the eyes, on the cheeks,
makes everyone to turn the face up!
Dripping water, dripping water,
everywhere!
from the beauty of sky,
onthe mud, on the rivers,
makes musical splashes when gets strike,
Dripping water, dripping water,
everywhere!
from the love of vast scream,
to the beautiful murmors of land,
makes me sing, and dance.
poem by Tayyeba Mustafa
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Water
water for water is water, thirst made me dried
eyes tears flow water, leaves skin broken
need water, cure my pain smooth my rough
surface makes it clean
pure and perfect water made so bright, all the
day expose heat dried my sweat, in my face
and lips tears seen in the eyes
all day long I seat in my brow, waiting the sun
down to lead me low, hunger and thirst open
my throat, water spelled drops like a dew
wash my warm body as you can see, the limps
legs and the hands would be easy, where ever
in my body, the water comes refreshing to me
slowly, slowly, fell the cool water beneath
my delicate skin, in my buttock where you have
to stay, hold on, I sit you in my dream, my living
water makes me the same
oh! water, please always watered me in each
new day and fell the real me
poem by Antonio Liao
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Just Before The Demonia Hurricane
Just before the Demonia hurricane
clouds in Durban
darkened the whole sky
and horizon.
I saw black water stretching out
with just here and there
‘a light dancing
on the surface of the sea.
Like a giant water monitor
that prepares to shatter
with its tail
the sea hissed menacing
about the coming chaos
and with rain and giant waves
I knew that destiny
somewhere else is hitting people mercilessly
and are even killing some.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Looking for Water
Still the leaves are spinning 'round
Take my hand as we go down, and down, and down
Looking for water
Well, our light's gone in a New York minute
Don't know about you, but my heart's not in it
(Looking, looking, looking)
I'm looking for water
I'm looking for water
(Looking, looking, looking)
I can't breathe the air, can't raise a fact
'Cause all we've got left is a beat in the night, and I'm
(Looking for water)
Looking for water
(Looking for water)
(Looking, looking)
Take my hand as we go down, and down
Leave it all behind, nothing could be found
(I'm, looking for water)
I'm looking for water
(Looking for water)
(Looking, looking)
(I, looking for water)
Looking everywhere
(Looking for water)
Looking here and there
(I'm looking for water)
I'm looking for water
(Looking for water)
(Looking, looking)
I can't live in this cage, I can't eat this candy
The edge of the earth to the spin in my head
The look in your eyes and never means never
The dawn's early light, baby, dark is forever
(Looking, looking)
(Looking, looking)
(Looking for water)
(Looking, looking)
I
(Looking for water)
(Looking for water)
(Looking, looking)
I
(Looking for water)
(Looking for water)
(Looking, looking)
I
(Looking for water)
(Looking for watter)
Looking, looking)
I
(Looking for water)
(Looking for watter)
Looking, looking)
I
(Looking for water)
(Looking for watter)
song performed by by David Bowie, music by David Bowie, lyrics by David Bowie from Reality
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The City Vs. The Country
In the city where the colours run dry,
Or in the country where the farmers grow rye.
In the city where there are fees,
Or in the country where beauty is free.
In the city where there are loud crowds,
Or in the country where you can watch clouds.
In the city where you camp out in your room,
Or in the country where you have fun dancing with a broom.
In the city where there are polluting cars,
Or in the county where you can see stars.
In the city where you seal the deal,
Or in the country where you can heal.
In the city where you say later,
Or in the country where you can see the water.
In the city where space is tight,
Or in the country where you hold their hand in the moonlight.
Written by Haley McRae,14.
poem by Haley McRae
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At a koi pond in a nursery
When her fingers
lightly ripple the water,
a row of fishes
dart to come to investigate.
Fins cut through the water
and big eyes,
come to look
near to the surface.
Big and small bright coloured koi’s
dash past through the water,
while dark fresh water crayfish
crawl on the bottom of the pond.
The ripple on the water
rings out wider and wider,
till where it disappears in to eternity.
.
In my hart the sound
of the beautiful day resounds,
while I stand fascinated
at the fish pond.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Hope
they put the man
in front of the water
on a wheel chair
he could not walk
six men
with his invalid chair
may be they were next of kin
may be close friends
may be blood-friends
nearly six men
carried the man
that was not able to walk
in front of the water
in the middle of the greenery
thanks GOD
I can walk
in the pool
there wre ducks..pigeons
and under the small bridge
white rabbits
moon was budding
in spite of the shining sun
under the clouds secretly
ı t was almost evening
the last days of summer
hot and very hot
the moon was budding
hidden under the clouds
I asked everybody
to ask a wish
, ı do not know if theybut ı know you asked
from your eyes
sun was setting crimson
when serenity of the evening approached
the ducks dived into the water
I wanted to dive with them
in this cool water
the weather was hot...very hot
the man wore the greenery
in front of the water
the man who could not walk
but he was still filled with hope
smiling
even he cannot walk
he could see the others
who can walk
he wore the greenery
in front of the water
he was still smiling with hope
may be someday
he hoped he could walk
on our table
the flowers were blooming and greening
I as if being guilty
was looking at your blue..green eyes
hopeless
the distance between us
was elongating as the days passed
and our hopes
were looking for new mornings
as the setting sun
to rise up again
even the man who cannot walk
was hopeful than us
poem by Metin Sahin
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Blonde curly head
When you run joyous into the garden
the whole world lies open before you
while it's autumn, leaves are stripped from branches
and you look great-eyed at the small lizard
where it hides in a small hole in the wall,
and you notice a pool with big Koi fish
that watches you from beneath the water of the pond
and then you try to touch and feel
with your small hands and the water is cool,
while you catch a small frog
and press that animal against your cheek,
while it feels as if eternity is lingering there
and suddenly it jumps from your wet hands
as a strange wet thing.
poem by Gert Strydom
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At Hout Bay the fishing trawler sails out
At Hout Bay the fishing trawler sails out
while the rain pours down
like water out of God’s hosepipe
with engines roaring in the ears
and clouds of smoke hang over the boats
with every fisherman for a moment being caught
in a own world while fog whirl about the boats
that rocks up and down to the harbour mouth.
The waves crash, the sea foams and bubbles
and “my girlfriend has a good lover, ”
is sung by one while the trawler sets its course
on the look out for barracouta, cod and sea trout.
“Look at the shining bodies, tons of trout, they are running free, ”
a fisherman shouts against the wind that pulls and pulls on the boat.
“Salmon man, salmon” roars the tiller man back and walls of water
roll past and the boat turns to get fishing gear ready.
“My girlfriend has a good lover and he’s a gelded goat, ”
the tune goes on and something clatters down
drawing the attention of the fishermen and the water shines
and when the boat is full they tell jokes that they guffaw at.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Some Silence Hanged Wordless Between Us
Next to a silver river, a clear stream
you were dreaming against a willow,
with a small smile, silent and satisfied
as if something great happened in the past
when your bright eyes suddenly caught mine,
words hang silently between us.
In your eyes light sparkled like stars,
a leave fell and glided away
when suddenly a plover called from the marsh
with others answering from far away
when your bright eyes suddenly caught mine,
words hang silently between us.
Where the water flows endlessly
you got quickly to your feet,
your glance went deep into my soul
and we could not evade our feelings,
when your bright eyes suddenly caught mine,
words hang silently between us.
poem by Gert Strydom
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A Boat Is a Lever
After my student went to the doctor to
Check out the rash speckling his
Right hand and found out he had
Leukemia, that the cancer had spread
Into his lungs, then where did he go?
I've called his number several times.
Flat-bottom boats light in water.
Brown brack and mud smell,
Stumps like chewed-off candles,
Cypress knees, knock and small
Talk floating over water, a motor
Chuffing off, a small blue cloud of excess
Gasoline spreads an ugly
Rainbow on tan water.Every
Thing rests on its proposition
Including smooth isobars along the bay.
Since collective thought cannot exist
As thought it passes into things.
Chemo takes a few gray hairs.Mustard
Cruises the bloodstream under a blizzard
Of white cells.Subdued by the arbitrary,
Suspended, the one in the boat still needs
To row it -- to direct the muscles, to
Maintain equilibrium with air
And water.If water is waveless
Then the boat reads by leading marks.
There is nothing more beautiful
Than a boat.
poem by Ralph Burns
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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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Water On The Ground
By eric clapton
Water on the ground, cloud on the sun,
Moon on the rise and the wind on the run.
But you know its only water,
Water on the ground.
Snow is falling, weather is cold.
Maybe Im just getting old.
And I think its only water,
Water on the ground.
Back to the rivers, back to the sea,
Keeps on running, just like me.
But you know its only water,
Water on the ground.
song performed by by Eric Clapton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Down To The Water
Written by dewey bunnell, 1977
Found on harbor.
The waves come in
Crash on the shoreline
Salty water, dont you know
Its yours, yours and mine
So grab your girl
And dont go wastin time
And lets go down to the water tonight
White capped clouds
Dance in the sunlight
Purple fishes watch
And show you some of their delight
The weathers fine
And everythings all right
So lets go down to the water tonight
Lets go down to the water tonight
Come on down, come on down
Come on down, down to the water
Come on down, come on down
Come on down, down to the water
Down to the water
Island music
Sways with a palm tree
Friends of mine lay back
And talk of times that werent so free
So lets have fun
And that means you and me
And lets go down to the water tonight
Lets go down to the water tonight.
Down, down, down to the water
Down, down, down to the water
Down, down, down to the water
Down, down, down to the water
Down, down, down to the water
Down, down, down to the water ...
song performed by by America
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Water Is Not Water
Just not wet anymore.
Won't work as a door stop.
Must have some water.
WATER-WATER-WATER-WATER
In the baby bottle, SMALL BOTTLE-ok.
Just thirsty.
Want some cold WATER? ?
We don't have any water.
CRY-CRY-CRY, tears are water.
BUT-there not wet NOW.
TEARS NOT WET - TEARS NOT WET.
ACID RAIN no pain.
ACID RAIN no pain.
ACID RAIN no pain.
DRIP rain drops - DRIP.
Clouds full of ACID RAIN.
CRY-CRY-CRY-CRY.
11/24/2006 Joe Poewhit
scribbleclub.com - defunct
JESUS SAVES
poem by Joe Poewhit
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