Thought On A Voyage
it touches shores unheard of
hurricanes and high tides
does it survive
yes, it goes places floating
on the sea-scape within
the salt of the sea and earth
it sustains on
no fear no joy
it just be
floating on
(un) familiar waters
passing by
(un) familiar shores
afloat
as winds and waves
deem it
28 oct 2010
20.14hrs
poem by Indira Babbellapati
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Related quotes
It Implies Not Looking Back
What a word...
Forward.
It implies not looking back.
Or getting too accustomed,
To that which is familiar and intact.
So many have been comforted,
By schedules made and keeping set dates.
With a scratching off from a menu decided,
To replace or hesitate to eventually procrastinate.
What a word...
Forward.
It implies not looking back.
Or getting too accustomed,
To that which is familiar and intact.
Even Mother Nature comes to assist with this movement.
With a shifting of Earth and turbulent winds.
Spinning storms called hurricanes,
From the shores of Africa that begin...
In vast waters referred to as the Atlantic Ocean.
And still there are those demanding entitlements,
With preferences prayed in a daily devotion.
As if they have rights to insist a life liked to live.
What a word...
Forward.
It implies not looking back.
Or getting too accustomed,
To that which is familiar and intact.
But...
Unfortunate are those who believe,
A moving back in time...
Is a choice to make as to who will lead,
Them away from truth...
To produce more delusions and fantasies!
What a word...
Forward.
It implies not looking back.
Or getting too accustomed,
To that which is familiar and intact.
And leaving behind many detached,
Who will never become attached to reality.
Moving forward is the change everyone will believe in,
Whether to embrace, accept or not.
We live to experience, grow to then distance,
From aged beliefs to advance to other adventures.
With a wisdom kept to keep to be reminisced but not lived,
Repeatedly to comfort our insecurities.
'I hate change.'
Me too.
I wish I had more dollars.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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4a
tongue-tied winds
on sturdy trees
sea weaving waves
log-rolling on the shores
moon floating weakly
on the murky river
nights without neon lights
brokenhearted
rivers on their usual journeys
towards the sea of options
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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After The Shores
when the Buddha in me
sees the Buddha in you,
he leaps with joy!
as if great waves of stillness
arise from a calm, placid sea,
to lap at the shores of...
we are those shores,
and yes, we are the waves,
but most of all...
we are what remains,
after the shores are stripped bare!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Nature's Wet Hands
The flood of Australia,
Of many cars, homes, animals, human beings and other items being washed away!
But, who can dry up nature's wet hands? ! !
Of floating cars and floating houses,
Of floating people and floating animals,
But, who can dry up nature's wet hands?
Of the rescue being taken up but,
Only few are accounted for;
Of Queensland full of many waters,
And of the many properties being destroyed! !
For the flood waters have taken away everything along its way in Queensland.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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The Sea
The sea has always
held a fascination with me
with its restlessness.
Breakers falling on
far and distant shores.
Waves rushing up sandy beaches,
then retreating to roam some more.
I sit for hours just watching and dreaming
where each wave might have been.
On its waters, roam mighty ships
coming and going from home.
One day I may old sea roam.
My dreams may come true
and on your waters explore
the different lives lead
on far-flung distant shores.
Until that day comes along
on the beach, I’ll sit and dream.
7 June 2008
poem by David Harris
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Down The Nile
Lying right beside you all the things we done
This I didn't plan now I understand we're one
We belong together no more time to fight
Underneath the skin we can let it in and float it through the night
And I aint never been here before
And you you , you come and knock on my door
(chorus)
Floating down that moonlight river
Lighter than a child
Warmer than the seven breezes
Floating ~ floating down the Nile
Softer than the clouds around us
Filling up my eyes
Silky like your burning kisses
Floating ~ floating down the Nile
song performed by by Heart
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Personal Evolution
My shores are all but gone now...
Time has claimed my sands
Tears i have cried o'er Love that has died
My waves ebb and flow now on command;
The moon has all but given up
Taken it's leave from shining o'er Earths floor
Silence and sorrow are my constant companions
Embraced by tattered shores of nevermore;
Life 'tis but a glimpse of Divine Light...
A solumn glimpse of Eternity...
Shores of once sweet abandon-are gone now
Swallowed up, i am now, by the Sea;
poem by Theodora Onken
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Moon Tides
Rushing waves on shores
Caress the rocks in freedom
Moon tides soon to come.
poem by Cynthia Buhain-Baello
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Eventually
I met a man
And talked about you
He seemed like a man from Osaka I knew
And he listened while I told him how you hurt me
And he consoled me when he told me he'd been hurt too
And he said we are inter-dependent
And the effects on each other never ending
And that the air has no boundaries
I think this water that surrounds me
Is the same water soaking through to you
So what comes floating to me
Eventually
Will come floating back to you
What comes floating to me
Eventually
Will come floating back to you
I had some tea
With a gal from Paris
We talked about life, sex, love and poetry
And you can't help it
Your name came up again
And she said man those kind of guys
Really know how to steal all of the oxygen
And I said we are inter-dependent
And the effects on each other never ending
And that the air has no boundaries
I think this water that surrounds me
Is the same water soaking' through to you
So what comes floating to me
Eventually
Will come floating back to you
What comes floating to me
Eventually
Will come floating back to you
I have a friend I confide in
He always says doll you got to learn not to lead with your chin
But you can't help it
It all comes up again
And then you have your fill
And your spill reaches down as far as a flood
So what comes floating to me
Eventually
Will come floating back to you
What comes floating to me
Eventually
Will come floating back to you
Eventually
Eventually
Will come floating back to you
Eventually
Eventually
song performed by by Cyndi Lauper
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Start...Stop
When things get monotonous,
Places familiar,
People boring,
Sights repetitive,
STOP.
START...
Exploring yourself
Seek options
Change locations
Meet strangers
Buy one way tickets
Listen to unheard music
Search beyond horizons
Cross the seas
Feel raw
Get lost in lanes
Break a few barriers
Fly to different shores
Let go of yourself to find the ME
Feel the thrill of the unknown
Chills of mystery
Freshness of new conversations
Warmth of building a new home
When new begins to feel old,
Unfamiliar feels comfortable,
Life gets stable,
STOP.
Uproot yourself
Pick up the bags
Put on the boots
Hit the road
For a new start
Coz Life's not destination
Its in the journey.
poem by Dipti Date Gokhale
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I like to compare the holiday season with the way a child listens to a favorite story. The pleasure is in the familiar way the story begins, the anticipation of familiar turns it takes, the familiar moments of suspense, and the familiar climax and ending.
quote by Fred Rogers
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Floating Assets
The Floating Assets
The boat man charged me
rupees three,
for a round trip
across the river mouth at sea
shabby and the oldest boat
with multiple cracks
supporting planks on every joints
by all means, not fit to be sea-worthy
kutcha logs connecting the sides
were the high benches for the paying boarders
safety standards were totally absent
as the waters seeped in up to knee-deep
to provide some relief or confidence
rectangular wooden posts
were enjoined to the sides of the boat
to keep it afloat and as a cushion for mishaps
yet I was the only
who kept on shivering
on the fate of the voyage
of only a stone's throw
the regular users were
crowding the vessel full
with luggage, hardware and cattles
unmindful of the boat's ability and pull
finally, leaving the shores
the boatman greeted us all
and on seeing my dead face
he had burst into laugh
and in pride, he went on to declare
that this was the boat his grandfather rowed - and
is the same…..he bequeaths for his son ! ! !
Louis Santhana
poem by Santhana Louis
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Love Sonnet 173 The dawn, the dawn, on other distant shores,
The dawn, the dawn, on other distant shores,
Methinks, is what drove her to go on sprees,
If night is what she thinks that always stores,
Her fate in place called 'here' if naught she flees;
For life became familiar everyday,
Contempt seemed all that it has ever brought,
The heart no longer feels promises sway,
So stranger arms, and warmer lips it sought;
But dawn breaks here, when there the sun would set,
Persephone comes now, Hades bereaved,
Those other shores, soonest would she forget,
Dead dreams replaced with visions now conceived;
......Though night might again come as day is spent,
......Dawn follows right behind, as things have went.
.
poem by Reyvrex Questor Reyes
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Moonlight Sestina
While reading Li Po, I fall
Asleep, and dream of the moon
My body lies on white
Cool sheets, flooded in a pool
Of moonlight. Lost in a dream
I lie in light, floating.
Like a full moon floating
On waves, I feel the fall
And rise, the tide of these dream
Currents. Closer, the moon
Approaches to my pool
Of flesh, shining me white.
From the glare of waxing white,
Gauze curtains – breeze floating -
Shield this rippling pool,
Become a waterfall,
And break the mirror moon-
Light through wet prisms, I dream.
Is this Shechinah? my dream
Self asks. At once the cold white
Chills me to ice. The moon
Swells until it's a floating
City, waiting to fall -
Atlantis – in the pool.
I yearn to be that pool
Skin, transparent as dream.
Instead I fear the moon fall:
I cannot part the white
Sea of thighs, Still floating
Whole, I cry to the moon:
“I am not ready, Moon”
Silence shimmers my pool,
But brightness fades, Floating
Away. Then from the dream
I emerge, weeping white
Tears that shine like star-fall.
Li Po's moon plunge sank dream
Deep. Whirlpool of lunar white
Drowns us; floating, we fall.
poem by Lillian Susan Thomas
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The Old Familiar Faces
I HAVE had playmates, I have had companions,
In my days of childhood, in my joyful school-days--
All, all are gone, the old familiar faces.
I have been laughing, I have been carousing,
Drinking late, sitting late, with my bosom cronies--
All, all are gone, the old familiar faces.
I loved a Love once, fairest among women:
Closed are her doors on me, I must not see her--
All, all are gone, the old familiar faces.
I have a friend, a kinder friend has no man:
Like an ingrate, I left my friend abruptly;
Left him, to muse on the old familiar faces.
Ghost-like I paced round the haunts of my childhood,
Earth seem'd a desert I was bound to traverse,
Seeking to find the old familiar faces.
Friend of my bosom, thou more than a brother,
Why wert not thou born in my father's dwelling?
So might we talk of the old familiar faces--
How some they have died, and some they have left me,
And some are taken from me; all are departed--
All, all are gone, the old familiar faces.
poem by Charles Lamb
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Floating and floating I
Floating and floating I remained
Where I was in the sky
And the sky changed.
How I float
In how many sky
I have no answer now.
Certainly I have a sky
I have acquired sky-blue
I am sky-born sky-clad.
Skylark explained in
Clear words skyey
Coming to my sky-scraper.
Floating and floating I remained
Where I was in the sky
In my own skyline.
Certainly you are the sky my sky
And I have floated and floated
And I know I am not I.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
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The Island
Alive in this island of seclusion
As my fearful eyes witness
The maelstrom multitude of the mighty waves
Placing my nation in deep peril
The tides of tyranny the tides of terror smashing into the shores
Tide after tide draws nearer and nearer out to destroy what I live for
Freedom and fraternity, peace and serenity
All in this island I adore
The waves ever-nearer, are out to fill
My island with things I abhor
poem by Mohammod Choudhury
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Outward Bound
OUT upon the unknown deep,
Where the unheard oceans sound,
Where the unseen islands sleep,--
Outward bound.
Following towards the silent west
O'er the horizon's curved rim,--
Or to islands of the blest,
--He with me and I with him--
Outward bound.
Nothing but a speck we seem
In the waste of waters round,
Floating, floating like a dream,--
Outward bound.
But within that tiny speck
Two brave hearts with one accord
Past all tumult, grief, and wreck,
Look up calm,--and praise the Lord,--
Outward bound.
poem by Dinah Maria Mulock Craik
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Run, Baby, Run
She was born in november 1963
The day that aldous huxley died
And her mama believed
That every man could be free
So her mama got high, high, high
And her daddy marched on birmingham
Singing mighty protest songs
And he pictured all the places
Where he knew that shed belong
But he failed and taught her young
The only thing shed need to carry on
He taught her how to
Run baby run baby run baby run
Baby run
Past the arms of the familiar
And their talk of better days
To the comfort of the strangers
Slipping out before they say
So long
Baby loves to run
She counts out all her money
In the taxi on the way to meet her plane
Stares hopeful out the window
At the workers fighting
Through the pouring rain
Shes searching through the stations
For an unfamiliar song
And shes pictures all the places
Where she knows she still belongs
And she smiles the secret smile
Because she knows exactly how
To carry on
So run baby run baby run baby run
Baby run
From the old familiar faces and
Their old familiar ways
To the comfort of the strangers
Slipping out before they say
So long
Baby loves to run
song performed by by Sheryl Crow
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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And There Were Those Who Sailed East
yes we learned later that there were those
who sailed towards the east
and they became our forefathers
before they died they left their voices
on the mouths of the waves
and gentle as they are
they settled permanently
on the shores of the earth
there were those who stayed
on nipa huts and wrote their books
on bamboo shoots and they
thought that all these would be lost
after the whites have fulfilled their
conquest. But they were wrong.
some found a way to survive on
the lips of their mouths
words handed from one child's palm
to another and we found them
transported by the winds of their times
from one meadow to another
their treasures now embedded
in the tattoos of our oily brown skins.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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