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Reading poetry on the Web

i wade through rivers
of diamonds, rubies,
plain rocks and stones
that criss cross the world
picking up gems
poetry on the web
i wade through rivers
to get to international souls
sacred rivers of all kinds
ganges, indus, nile, mekong
chao phraya
filled with stones
heads of all kinds,
round, flat, sharp,
black, white, green,
brown, yellow, big and small,
sand, silt, gravel,
between them when lucky
precious gems turn up to greet me
fishes help spread the magic
liven up nooks and corners
some sprint, some plain swim
among these, the best rivers
are crystal clear,
a dazzling picture of sky, heaven
taking the breath of god
as they whisper a poetic tale
immediately marked in gold by the morning sun

poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Many Rivers To Cross

Theres so many rivers to cross
But I cant seem to find my way over
Wandering, Im lost
As I travel along the white cliffs of dover
Many rivers to cross
And its only my will that keeps me alive.
Ive been hurt, washed up for years
But I mearly survive because of my pride
And this loneliness wont leave me alone,
Its such a drag to be on your own
My baby left, and she wouldnt say why,
Now all I do is cry...
Ive got many rivers to cross
And its only my will that keeps me alive
Ive got so many rivers to cross,
Oh, so many rivers to cross...

song performed by by Bruce Springsteen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Negro Speaks of Rivers

I've known rivers:
I've known rivers ancient as the world and older than the
flow of human blood in human veins

My soul has grown deep like the rivers.

I bathed in the Euphrates when dawns were young
I built my hut near the Congo and it lulled me to sleep.
I looked upon the Nile and raised the pyramids above it.
I heard the singing of the Mississippi when Abe Lincoln
went down to New Orleans, and I've seen its muddy
bosom turn all golden in the sunset

I've known rivers:
Ancient, dusky rivers.

My soul has grown deep like the rivers.

poem by Langston Hughes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Negro Speaks Of Rivers

I've known rivers:
I've known rivers ancient as the world and older than the
flow of human blood in human veins.

My soul has grown deep like the rivers.

I bathed in the Euphrates when dawns were young.
I built my hut near the Congo and it lulled me to sleep.
I looked upon the Nile and raised the pyramids above it.
I heard the singing of the Mississippi when Abe Lincoln
went down to New Orleans, and I've seen its muddy
bosom turn all golden in the sunset.

I've known rivers:
Ancient, dusky rivers.

My soul has grown deep like the rivers.

poem by Langston Hughes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Many Rivers To Cross

Many rivers to cross
But I can't seem to find
My way over
Wandering I am lost
As I travel along
The white cliffs of dover
Many rivers to cross
And it's only my will
That keeps me alive
I've been licked
Washed up for years
And I merely survive
Because of my pride
And this loneliness won't leave me alone
It's such a drag to be on your own
My man he left me but he wouldnt say why
Well I guess, I have to try
Many rivers to cross
But just where to begin
I'm playing for time
There'll be times I find myself
Thinking of committing
Some dreadful crime.
And this loneliness won't leave me alone
It's such a drag to be on your own
My man he left me but he wouldnt say why
Well I guess, I have to try, yeah yeah
Rivers, rivers to cross
Yeah yeah
Rivers to cross

song performed by by Heather Nova
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Many Rivers

Many rivers to cross
But I can't seem to find my way over
Wandering I am lost as I travel along
The white cliffs of dover
Many rivers to cross and it's only my will
That keeps me alive
I've been licked, washed up for years and,
I merely survive because of my pride.
And this loneliness won't leave me alone
It's such a drag to be on your own
My woman left and she did'nt say why
Well I guess, I gotta try.
Many rivers to cross but where to begin,
I'm playing for time
There'll be times when I find myself thinking
Of committing some dreadful crime.
I've got many rivers to cross
But I can't seem to find my way over
Wandering I am lost as I travel along
The white cliffs of dover
Many rivers to cross and it's only my will
That keeps me alive
I've been licked, washed up for years and,
I merely survive because of my pride.

song performed by by Ub40
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Rivers of Russia

Arctic Rivers race down the tundra,
the taiga, the steppes, become the long rivers,
the Volga, the Dnieper, the Don— then push on
to pour themselves into the Black Sea—
sometimes flowing iridescent silver with moonlight,
sometimes brown, sometimes green, sometimes dark gray or blue,
sometimes incandescent red with blood, sometimes pure gold.

This poem is in the book Diamonds in a Stony Field
by Alla Renée Bozarth, copyright 2011. All rights reserved.

poem by Alla Renee Bozarth
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Many Rivers To Cross (live From The Mirage)

MANY RIVERS TO CROSS (Live from The Mirage)
Many rivers to cross
But I cant seem to find my way over
Wandering I am lost
As I travel along the white cliffs of dover.
Yes Ive got many rivers to cross
And it's only my will that keeps me alive
Cause Ive been licked, washed up for years
And I merely survive because of my pride.
And this lonliness wont leave me alone
It's such a drag to be on your own
Cuz my man left me and he didnt say why
So I guess I'll have to cry.
Ive got many rivers to cross
But just where to begin, I'm playing for time
Cuz thereve been times I find myself
Thinking of committing, a dreadful crime.
And this lonliness wont leave me alone
It's such a drag to be on your own
My man left me and he didnt say why
So I guess I'll have to cry.
I've got many rivers to cross
But just where to begin, I'm playing for time
But Ive been licked, and washed up for years
And I merely survive because of my pride
(Many rivers to) Oh cross

song performed by by Cher
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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What I Need

a rising sun between two breasts
of mountains green and lushing
trees and a blanket of daisies on
grasses soft and rivers with waters
flowing on a bed of rocks and stones
and sand, a hushing sound of a song
a maiden young and wondering if i
this man shall kiss her lips tonight
when the moon is full when the stars
are glistening like diamonds in the skies.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Mountain Peak

We came together on the highest mountain on this earth.
As years went by we separated into rivers
from the tears this mountain cried.
We all fell into different rivers flowing though
forests, rocks, and waterfalls.
No matter what season we came across
we continued flowing.
We are rivers that started in the mountains,
and rivers that separated as we went through
many waterfalls.
Sometimes we travel together,
and other times we travel alone.
Always remember that these same rivers
that travel many miles through the earth
are once again together when it reaches its final destination
the “Ocean”
So, rivers that started up high in the mountains
and then separated are united
again as a family.

poem by Felix Lugo
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Let us be like rivers, Love

The Table shall never meet the Fuji again
Let us be like rivers, Love
Great rivers, not mountains!
On their epic journey to grace
The Land of the gods with much needed hope
Where an arid desert is the ‘mirror of heaven’
Great rivers run from a Great Lake
Ignorant of borders, boundaries or nationalities
They run
But no matter how long or how apart they grow
Great rivers are sure to become one sometime
At the edge of some distant sea

poem by LLM Mbatha
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Malaysiana - Rejang River

POETRY IN PROGRESS

I never knew you are a giant
until i went around the country
i saw the Klang and Gombak rivers
in Kuala Lumpur and and were surprised
to learn that they even called them rivers
arent them really just little rivers or streams?
the ones we put pavements over at the old market in Sibu
malaysians should see the Sarawak and Rejang Rivers
to know what Sarawakians mean by rivers
that would be a real integration of
geographical standads and how we see things

when after a rain and the sun begins to set,
a walk at the Rejang Esplanade does feel like
on a beach, the water lapping and splashing
the cool and fresh air revitalising the lungs and body
at sweet and pulpy pineapple town Sarikei
and sugary green orange town Bintangor
and at Kerto where vases and colourful pottery
are moulded out of the Rejang quality clay

Poetry in progress
(to be continued)

poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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My Hands

my hands have ten rivers
there are furrows of sorrows in the destiny of my palms
no mountain peaks to view the world
holistically,

my hands have ten crystal clear ponds
my hands mirror my face
my hands surrender
my hands open

they are all yours too and you are so cruel
you are telling me like you detest me in the residence of your full moon

you do not need rivers, you had enough of my surrender, you are ashamed
of open hands, you touch me and then you make a plea

'please close your hands and with your ten rivers, please sail away from me! '

i know what a full moon is. I too had enough of its light and silence.
i have the nerves of the stars, and i know what sailing away means.

let me thank you for your dark skies, your clouds are too heavy for me.
i am raining tears, too salty for my ten rivers.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Poetry! Poetry! Poetry!

Poetry! Yes!
P. The Purple
P. The Pink

Poetry! Be a mix of emotions,
Poetry! The different kinds of expressions,
Poetry! The different kinds of experiments
Poetry! The Corners of exploration
Yes! Yes! Yes!
The Vague Of Emphasise.

Though be the same thoughts and emotions, he solves the different vexed questions of equations

Poetry! My blue sky!
Poetry! My brown skin
Poetry! My White clown
Poetry! My green grass

Yes! Yes! Yes!

Expressed and impressed,
applied and implied
thrown and blown
pen with a book,
a vein of a blood

Poetry! the visions of missions,
build in all kinds of potions,
Poetry! the zeal of joy,
it being in zone

I Learn!
I Observe
I Like
But! I Love!

poem by Anele ''The African Son'' kaPotelwa
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The Rivers of a Poet

The Rivers of the Poet

The verses of the poet
vary from the rivers
though they also flow
while circulating inside
until materializing
in words and verses
that others can see.

The poet’s soul communions
with the exterior world
and flows like the rivers
with each inspiration.

The rivers of the poet
do dry inside of him
as he writes,
but it is forever
that they flow in written form
upon the sheets of paper.

That is how
the rivers of the poet
leave and manage to stay
until another river
appears and flows
with another inspiration.

poem by Juan Antonio Rodriguez
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Salvador Dali

The face of the precipice is black with lovers;
The sun above them is a bag of nails; the spring's
First rivers hide among their hair.
Goliath plunges his hand into the poisoned well
And bows his head and feels my feet walk through his brain.
The children chasing butterflies turn round and see him there
With his hand in the well and my body growing from his head,
And are afraid. They drop their nets and walk into the wall like smoke.

The smooth plain with its mirrors listens to the cliff
Like a basilisk eating flowers.
And the children, lost in the shadows of the catacombs,
Call to the mirrors for help:
'Strong-bow of salt, cutlass of memory,
Write on my map the name of every river.'

A flock of banners fight their way through the telescoped forest
And fly away like birds towards the sound of roasting meat.
Sand falls into the boiling rivers through the telescopes' mouths
And forms clear drops of acid with petals of whirling flame.
Heraldic animals wade through the asphyxia of planets,
Butterflies burst from their skins and grow long tongues like plants,
The plants play games with a suit of mail like a cloud.

Mirrors write Goliath's name upon my forehead,
While the children are killed in the smoke of the catacombs
And lovers float down from the cliffs like rain.

poem by David Gascoyne
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Death Of The Trees

My town is a place where
The rich tourists come,
With mountains and rivers
That glint in the sun!
Luxuriant beaches
Of ivory sand,
But all the jade forests
Now no longer stand!

There once were lush jungles
That grew dense and tall,
But woodcutters came when
The town was still small...
They hacked all the trees down
And shipped them away,
In huge merchant vessels
That sailed to the bay!

They went back to Europe
With precious hard woods,
Sold it as furniture
And other fine goods...
I wish I could travel
In time to the day
Before people cleared all
The forests away!

I wish I had seen them
Before settlers came,
The mountains and rivers
May still be the same...
Iron, Yellow, Black Wood
And most of all trees,
Don't sway any more in
The fresh coastal breeze...

This poetry is an adapted poem for
Lisa La Grange, her copyright,2012.

poem by Denis Martindale
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Could Have Like You, I.

this is the place,
you were born here
marked by the planting of the
banana shrub on the side of the hill,
things are not complicated here
things turn out as expected
events are predictable
there is nothing to worry
nothing changes here
the stones are stones
and rivers are rivers
the hills do not grow anymore
except some vines
that the old people readily cut
for they said the tendrils are touching
the heavens
offending the sensibilities of the the
gods and goddesses
here,
you left on the third full moon
and you left a note
written in red ink, you declare
hey guys, i am complicated
i don't belong here
and they all hated you and promise
to kill you when you come back
they wish you ill

inside myself, i could have done the same
for i am more complicated than you,
but i am beside her
and the pictures of my ancestors
smile at me
at the altar perfumed by daily
incenses

good luck, i am staying
i am more complicated than you
but i do not have the guts
i am frail as the afternoon,
i am soft as the earth where i still belong.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Heart Can Sing The Song of Soul

' Well, Look into heart!

Well! beautiful melodies are sung in there
different musical instruments play there
within one's heart.
Several songs of strange lyrics

Some play in high and good and long sighs
good rain of musical notes that wet eyes,
some with tears of pain
some with tears of
overwhelming joy and Some take to ecstasy..

More and more we live, more and more wells that filled
Wells that can give ample of
Fresh juice of love

Mind gets quenched and happiness filled
And love is that note fills rainbow of life with many colours

Blood that come to that heart purified
Blood flows like honey in body and brain

Some of the perishables are
Dried and stuffed
That shines with eternal light
love that shines in one heart
can brighten the world

Some of the rivers dry up
Hearts of some get
dried or mud filled,
Others are far too fast in flow for that happen.
They flow that divine love
Rolling the rocks

In one rain of love, river gets flooded
Eroding the earth, sorrowing the rocks
They flow to ocean taking all that sand and silt!

You have to just take a few precious cups of water,
That 'love' is literally something of yourself, something that can make you immortal
And some know this well
They understand this well.

They find only mines of gold and diamond,
When some drops of love
Spill,
And it can solidify into precious stones of different colors a, shape and size..

It can grow as shining tough as a diamond
And cut through that secret of life and death,
cutting that hard rock cover that tunnel
Your taken to the eternal beloved,
Love is that spacecraft takes one to heaven

If it is lost, they way to the pathless land
Your love is that faith that takes that truth
Where falcon of death hunts the faithless stand!

Should never heart be offered to the mouth of a canine or cannibal,
Only can be useful and fruitful
when overflowing love flows like Nile
Life saving and life giving river feeding all
Like Ganges, washing allies of all!

Strange love,
Only to someone
Who has the valor
and courage
To cut pieces of their soul off
with a knife of knowledge
Then weave them into a shawl with loom of love
To protect you for cold and rain, thunders and lightning in life.
Because know for sure the
droplets love spilt
Solidify as gems.
And the single dropp that remain
in pot'of love sufficient to fill all unfilled wells

There are different music play within us.
Some fill heart with each good note,
Others are far, far too melodious
That can only fill heart and soul
For that can bring rain,
To flood river of life,
but a single dropp of that love
can fill all hearts.'

Beautiful are people who sing that song of the SOUL!
Their heart can take them to their beloved,
They fill the heart of them and others to show the eternal beloved!

poem by Ramdas Bhandarkar
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Alluring Brooks

Comely brooks are fine with an alluring kindness,
Beleaguering the brain with beautiful uprising;
These small rivers infect the daily activity,
Brooding on our minds like a becoming reason.
Shy, reserved rivers think like things that enable being,
Being concentrates with a redolent appeal
Like the small rivers of a summery day
Called brooks of divine authority,
Sempiternal water of the mind, feelings are same.

poem by Naveed Akram
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Back To The River Of Beli

The rivers of belief
(curly m.c./david fairstein)
Take me back to the rivers of belief
Take me back to the rivers of belief
My friend
I look inside my heart
I look inside my soul
I promise you
I will return
And when the lamb opened the seventh seal
Silence covered the sky
Take me back to the rivers of belief
Take me back to the rivers of belief
My friend
I look inside my heart
I look inside my soul
Im reaching out for you
Lets hope one day
Well rest in peace
On my rivers of belief

song performed by by Enigma
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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