And I flow...
Unnamed river of mysterious origins
At the high mountains, am i
Flowing in multiple paths
From the terrains touched
Do I get my myriad names…
Some lock my flow
Some block my rhythm
Some quench their thirst
Some wash their murk
Some just pass me by…
I feed
I flood
And I keep flowing
Absorbing all yet at core
I’m what I am at my origins…
02feb2010
07.20hrs
poem by Indira Babbellapati
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Related quotes
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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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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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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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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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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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 Merri In Flood
The old Merri River in flood waters of brown
Is flowing on bank high on by Warrnambool Town
In and out of Lake Pertobe on it's sea going way
To join the Pacific at famed Lady Bay
The old river that is old even in time
That has inspired the poets and songwriters to rhyme
In the age of the dinosaurs the Merri was old
In full flood the river a sight to behold
In Summer by the banks of the river in the shade of the trees
The Indigenous tribes had their corroborees
Like the Seasons of Nature the people come and go
But the river on down through the flat country flow
In and out of Lake Pertobe and on to the sea
The Merri in flood is a great sight to see.
poem by Francis Duggan
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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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Riverwalk
High above the mile high Colorado Rocky mountains,
Anywhere I see, I see the tall cliffs with silver lined snow caps,
The Alpine fir, blue spruce and oak trees abound,
The winter snow is gone, the summer greenery has come to stay.
In and around the trails,
I hear the music of river creek flowing down the hills,
The sparkling clean glacier water sings its own divine tune,
The gentle wind blows over and serenades her with whispering chime.
There are many obstacles in the river's path,
The fallen limbs, boulders and numerous rocks,
The river embraces these hurdles with tender touch,
It embraces, under flows, overflows, still playing its melodious tune.
I walk miles along the river walk,
I try to listen to the joy in the music of the current flowing fast and slow,
Whatever the intricacies and hurdles we face,
We must flow like the river, singing, dancing and living with joy.
poem by Jay P Narain
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Today... 'The Fountain
Sweet Fountain flowing from David's royal line
in which I can wash this wretched soul of mine.
It removes the deepest stains of sin away
and presents me spotless on the Judgement Day.
'Come to me all you that thirst and drink, ' You said.
'Come and quench your thirst at the Fountain head.'
For the living water that pours out from Me
can cleanse you from all of your iniquity.
So I came to that living fountain of heaven
to be cleansed and all my sins were forgiven.
For there God wiped all of the tears from my eyes
when I stood before the cross of Jesus Christ.
Deep sweet Fountain flowing from heaven above
immersing the world in God's wonderful love.
Lord Jesus Christ You poured out Yourself in death.
When there upon the cross You breathed Your last breath.
(see also the additional information in the Poet's notes box below)
Nothing Felt Is Kept Secret
No survivor completely escapes,
A history laced with grief and/or turmoil...
That weaves to grip without leaping,
Throughout one's ancestry.
Nothing felt is kept secret when flowing through veins.
And those connected,
To those trees affected...
Become fully aware,
From where those branches grown...
Had been rooted in wombs to aid their births.
Many are nurtured to believe,
Their blossoming done from buds to reach...
Was purely assisted by Sunlight.
But there are those with senses touched,
Firmly and tied to their origins.
And their emotions are deeply cemented.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The River of Rivers in Connecticut
There is a great river this side of Stygia
Before one comes to the first black cataracts
And trees that lack the intelligence of trees.
In that river, far this side of Stygia,
The mere flowing of the water is a gayety,
Flashing and flashing in the sun. On its banks,
No shadow walks. The river is fateful,
Like the last one. But there is no ferryman.
He could not bend against its propelling force.
It is not to be seen beneath the appearances
That tell of it. The steeple at Farmington
Stands glistening and Haddam shines and sways.
It is the third commonness with light and air,
A curriculum, a vigor, a local abstraction . . .
Call it, one more, a river, an unnamed flowing,
Space-filled, reflecting the seasons, the folk-lore
Of each of the senses; call it, again and again,
The river that flows nowhere, like a sea.
poem by Wallace Stevens
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Now I know what is wasting!
Flowing away the water
Clueless was the river
You came as a dyke
And held………
Which gave the meaning of
Flowing ………
Now I flow,
Now I blow
Like a wind
Like a water in the river
Now I know what is wasting ……!
Lots of things polluting the air
Big clueless was the nature
You came as a rain
And washed away…..
Which gave the meaning of
Purity and holiness ……
Now I am holy
Now I am pure …
Like a pain
Like a dew of the morning …..
My tongue was tied
Clueless was I
You came as a twister
Now I can sing the songs delicious
You touched my finger
Now I can make music melodious
I am very thankful to you
As you thankful to nature.
poem by Abdul Wahab
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Today... 'Fountain of living waters
Come and see the crimson flood flowing free
from the cross on the hill of Calvary.
Blood that has flowed from Emmanuel's veins
to wash away all of our sinful stains.
I will not forsake this deep cleansing flow
for it can wash me whiter than the snow.
To the Fountain of Living Water flee
and come for forgiveness at Calvary.
So let's all fear God and shun the evil.
Flee from the temptations of the devil.
But when we sin in repentance we cry
'Lord wash me in Your blood or I shall die.'
(see also the additional information in the Poet's notes box)
Ever Pure Is Love!
Love is that great feeling,
no one can deny,
to love is thrilling,
to be loved is more pleasing,
living with heart ever loving,
only wisdom of self remain ever shining!
Every love is felt mortal in company of desires,
Just as immortal self felt mortal,
In company of mortal things,
river that flood during rain,
and drain in summer,
Surely dry some day,
But the river that keeps on flowing full,
Ever pure has origin in melting snow of icy mountains,
Love having origin in heart where snow heap of pure Love melts,
Never can dry,
Never be impure,
Unless polluted by human desires, selfish motives!
When body felt light,
filling more energy in wings,
wisdom gained by experience,
courage in heart make faith
strong,
Look for the Truth alone,
one can soar high, see deep into space to see the
Sun never sets,
the ever flowing river of life as
whole
poem by Ramdas Bhandarkar
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From The Banks Of Ganga: XIII
Sitting by the Ganga
On a significant evening
She whispered into my ears
It's your belief in me
It's the value you give me
I'm not little more than that
I'm not little less than that
You're the cause
You're the consequence
I'm a mere witness
To your flow…
The flow within left me in flood
Her flow without smoothened my being
I sat in the flow
Clutching at the flowing support
poem by Indira Babbellapati
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A River
There's a river high up in the mountains
It curves high and low, its been since
before my time
And its gonna be there after I go
And I'm gonna say it only this one time, if
only for you
Our love will be like that river flowing
through all time.
That river's there through winter, and fall,
through spring and summer too.
My love will survive through the seasons to
just make it back home to you.
poem by Misty Evans
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A Belief in Writing Poetry
For me a poem should be easy
Like a river flowing seamless
Without need to stop and think
Like a river reflects the world
A poem should reflect also
In each passing pace of rhythm
Every bend and curve of a river
Could be the twist and turn
Settled into every verse
Which flows with gentle ease
Beautiful and refreshing
Passing by so slowly
There amongst nature I find
An honest belief in poetry
The simplicity of it all
How easy a poem should be
Not to be understood
But to be felt and known
Not to become explained
But to be seen and realised
My belief in writing poetry
Is a river flowing and reflecting
A simple beautiful honesty
poem by Matthew Holloway
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A Simple Touch!
you touched my hand,
and raised this body
from the land of the dead...
you touched my heart,
and freed this soul
from the dark maze
of its own prison.
you touched my eyes,
and restored sight
to a blind man.
you touched my ears,
and filled them with
the song of every living creature.
you touched my desire,
and brought stone and fire,
and the echo of the whipporwill's song.
i touched you,
and the earth stopped turning,
rivers stopped flowing,
and mountains fell...
all in a simple touch!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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My river of Love
Flowing from the regions of good thoughts,
Down towards the eternity of love,
Lets erode all plans that they plan,
They wish to see us fall,
Thinking my river can dry,
Not at all shall we perish,
Our love everflowing and always going
Through the mountains and high hills,
Penetrating against all odds,
Defining our love in our own way,
Me and you, we are awesome,
This river of mine is everlasting,
Long until it rains and refill,
My love so pure and so perfect
The streams adjacent are envious,
The vallies call upon our names,
The people see and praise,
Until when shall i perish,
My love so pure and perfect
poem by Gaylord Munemo
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