Muddied
Their contradictions are so ridiculous.
It amazes how they do this.
As if it is not noticed.
And yet repeatedly they get away with it.
Perhaps for some that is why it is done.
Since few are conscious enough,
To know they've been made fools.
In front of everyone.
Leaving them in disbelief.
And quite stunned,
By the events to come.
When told a pool should be expected for them to swim...
Towels were given them
To wade in a muddied puddle.
And that vision of a pool to dip in, tan and cool...
For them to huddle,
Was none!
Like those clouds that blocked promises,
There would be Sun.
With joy they could anticipate.
Treats to eat and lots of fun!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Related quotes
I took a job at the pool in order to earn the five cents a day it cost to swim. I counted wet towels. As a bonus, I was allowed to swim during lunchtime.
quote by Esther Williams
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Whirl pool
Whirl pool
On lake...
At through the stones...
water...
Rund rund...
Arund...
Whirl pool...
A Simply beauty...
The rain drops on
On pool water...
Many many
Little...little...
whirl pool
Run and rund to be...
Play the pool...
It was nature wool
With cool...!
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
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By Loe Pool
The pool glitters, the fishes leap in the sun
With joyous fins, and dive in the pool again;
I see the corn in sheaves, and the harvestmen,
And the cows coming down to the water one by one.
Dragon-flies mailed in lapis and malachite
Flash through the bending reeds and blaze on the pool;
Sea-ward, where trees cluster, the shadow is cool;
I hear a singing, where the sea is, out of sight;
It is noontide, and the fishes leap in the pool.
poem by Arthur Symons
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Penmaen Pool
For the Visitors’ Book at the Inn
Who long for rest, who look for pleasure
Away from counter, court, or school
O where live well your lease of leisure
But here at, here at Penmaen Pool?
You’ll dare the Alp? you’ll dart the skiff?—
Each sport has here its tackle and tool:
Come, plant the staff by Cadair cliff;
Come, swing the sculls on Penmaen Pool.
What’s yonder?—Grizzled Dyphwys dim:
The triple-hummocked Giant’s stool,
Hoar messmate, hobs and nobs with him
To halve the bowl of Penmaen Pool.
And all the landscape under survey,
At tranquil turns, by nature’s rule,
Rides repeated topsyturvy
In frank, in fairy Penmaen Pool.
And Charles’s Wain, the wondrous seven,
And sheep-flock clouds like worlds of wool,
For all they shine so, high in heaven,
Shew brighter shaken in Penmaen Pool.
The Mawddach, how she trips! though throttled
If floodtide teeming thrills her full,
And mazy sands all water-wattled
Waylay her at ebb, past Penmaen Pool.
But what’s to see in stormy weather,
When grey showers gather and gusts are cool?—
Why, raindrop-roundels looped together
That lace the face of Penmaen Pool.
Then even in weariest wintry hour
Of New Year’s month or surly Yule
Furred snows, charged tuft above tuft, tower
From darksome darksome Penmaen Pool.
And ever, if bound here hardest home,
You’ve parlour-pastime left and (who’ll
Not honour it?) ale like goldy foam
That frocks an oar in Penmaen Pool.
Then come who pine for peace or pleasure
Away from counter, court, or school,
Spend here your measure of time and treasure
And taste the treats of Penmaen Pool.
poem by Gerard Manley Hopkins
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In the Pool With Fools
If I choose to elect,
To be crazed on some days.
I will not select the weekend.
Those days I cherish...
To feed a craving for sensibility.
And when I'm fed,
My head is prepared for Monday.
There I am and ready...
To swim in the pool with fools!
Pretending everything with them,
Is 'cool'.
'Yeah...
I can dig it! '
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Green Leaves and Sere
Three tall poplars beside the pool
Shiver and moan in the gusty blast,
The carded clouds are blown like wool,
And the yellowing leaves fly thick and fast.
The leaves, now driven before the blast,
Now flung by fits on the curdling pool,
Are tossed heaven-high and dropped at last
As if at the whim of a jabbering fool.
O leaves, once rustling green and cool!
Two met here where one moans aghast
With wild heart heaving towards the past:
Three tall poplars beside the pool.
poem by Mathilde Blind
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Devoted and Truer Fools
Those who 'use' to be the ones,
Depicted as fools.
With a diminishing done,
To any influence they might have had...
Have not been the fools,
Many were led to believe.
With a choice to ruin their integrity!
It seems those fools,
Had always worn tailored made suits.
And deceived with fake impressions.
Diluting those minds without a conscious.
And it seems as though,
Those who have followed the ones...
Impressing with dress and promises,
Have been made devoted and truer fools.
And today they know this.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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There’s a big painting
There’s a big painting of a girl
with a light pink skin
that lies on a white skin cloak
in front of a dark pool,
where snow white water lilies drifts
and I can see into her soul.
I have felt like taking the fan
next to her
and to wave her cool
yet she looks fragile
and self-possessed and calm,
where she lies with her peach pink dress
looking at me
and I wonder for whom she is waiting
and why the door behind her
of which the steps goes into the pool
are always locked?
[Reference: Painting of a girl at a pool by Mandi. See the painting at my webpage: http: //www.mabooki.com/poems/display/1412_There_is_a_b ig_painting.htm]
poem by Gert Strydom
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Everything Is Nothing!
Everything is nothing,
Nothing is everything,
Everything is Truth and Truth is everything,
All come from a pool and remain in the pool,
fool is that Truth which identifies itself with some fool,
When fool is grown enough to know the pool,
And can see beyond,
He sees he is that,
He is that,
he is that nothing
Thinking on nothing!
Nothing can exist as it is!
Remain in the pool,
Coming and going is that illusion!
Raising and falling as waves of unidentifiable formless energy,
Taking forms with different blends of its own forms,
Truth is that which bestows an atom to absorb the ocean
And Truth is that truth fools itself with wrong identification!
Then every breath is meditation,
Stopping train of thoughts,
Seeing all in true colour,
Remains as everything and nothing in his own nature!
poem by Ramdas Bhandarkar
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Marks of Sin
You waited for Fay
by the entrance
of the outdoor
swimming pool
in Bedlam Park
the Saturday afternoon sun
still strong
the voices and screams
of the kids in the pool
coming through
the high hedge
that surrounded all
around except where
the entrance was
with its turnstiles
and changing rooms
and wire boxes
where kids
kept their clothes
Pete Badham and his cronies
had gone by and in
a few minutes before
giving you the hard stare
which you returned
with equal share
you wondered if Fay's father
had stopped her going
finding some passage
in the Bible that he claimed
made it a sin
or maybe she had been kept in
for some misdemeanour
but then you saw her
coming through the park
in a blue dress
with a white towel
wrapped under an arm
thought you might not come
you said as she came
to the entrance
Mum let me come
after Daddy'd gone
off to work
she said
she opened a hand
to show the coins
held there
her eyes you noticed
were red
as if she'd been crying
glad you're here
you said
me too
she replied
and you both went in
each to the separate areas
for boys and girls
once you had changed
and put your clothes
in the wire box
you went out
to the pool
and dived in
the cool water
and waited for Fay
to come in
Dave Walker was there
at the deep end
keeping an eye
on Badham and his cronies
giving you the thumbs up
when Fay came out
she stood hesitant
on the edge
of the pool
dressed in her black
swimming costume
come on in
you called and waved
she climbed down
into the water
and swam towards you
her fair hair
darkened by the water
her legs flapping
behind her
as she swam
her hands pushing through
the water's skin
as she came to you
she put her arms
around your neck
her damp face
close to yours
you put your arms
around her waist
and she winced
and you let go
what's up?
you asked
nothing
she said
just a bruise
and she swam off
to the edge of the pool
and you followed her
and she pulled herself
onto the edge
and sat there
looking out
at the other kids swimming
you heaved yourself
onto the edge of the pool
beside her
she looked away
towards the high hedge
and you noticed
thin red marks
on her thigh
what's that?
you asked
pointing to her thigh
sign I have sinned
she whispered
Daddy said
to show the flesh
is a sin
and wouldn't let me come
and I answered him back
and he made the mark of
me having sinned
she stared at you
and touched your hand
say nothing to anyone
she said
promise?
ok
you said
let's go swim
she said
and dived in again
you seeing
the red marks
and sensing the pain.
poem by Terry Collett
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Hues of blue
From the holiday apartment’s window
I see people swimming in the blue pool
and the water looks icy cold
from the dark blue colour
Some girls and women have
bathing caps on in colours
of white, green and blue
and others swim without
while some lie
around the pool.
While the day gets hotter
the colour of the pool changes
to a lighter hue
and just across the road
the beach is full
of people lying in the sun.
Some swim with the waves
breaking white
and some are deeper
in the aquamarine water
and still deeper
some surfers
are riding the waves
the of a navy blue ocean.
poem by Gert Strydom
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In The Swimming Pool In The Park
Your sister called her
the girl in the red beret
and there she was
in the outdoor
swimming pool
in the park
her gran sitting
in the stands knitting
and Janice saw you
and said
Fancy seeing you here
can you swim?
You stood
in the shallow end
of the pool
in your blue trunks
looking at her wet fair hair
clinging to her body
and her eyes bright
in the sun's afternoon light
No not so far
you replied
I can
she said shaking water
from her hair and head
I can swim the length
and back almost
you looked over
at Jimmy in the pool
talking to friends
she touched your hand
and said
I can show you
how to swim
and she smiled
and you felt her hand
on yours and hoped
Jimmy wasn't looking
seeing her touch you
Maybe another time
you said
pulling your hand away
and plunging it
into the water
I've got to go
you said
my friends
are waiting for me
and she looked at you
her eyes now sad
and she said softly
No stay with me
I like it
when you are near me
and she stood there
in her pink swimsuit
her hair sticking
to her face
her eyes watery and blue
and gazing hopefully
(the noise and laughter
from the pool
momentarily shut off)
at seven year old you.
poem by Terry Collett
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Bells, Pool And Sleep
Bells overbrim with sound
And spread from cupolas
Out through the shaking air
Endless unbreaking circles
Cool and clear as water.
A stone dropped in the water
Opens the lips of the pool
And starts the unovertaking
Rings, till the pool is full
Of waves as the air of bells.
The deep-sea bell of sleep
Under the pool of the mind
Flowers in concentric circles
Of annihilation till
Both sight and sound die out,
Both pool and bells are quelled.
Submitted by Stephen Fryer
poem by Arthur Seymour John Tessimond
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London Pool
London Pool's in London town,
Ay, boys! O boys!
London Pool's in London town,
Where the great ships anchor down!
O to shake the canvas free,
Hear the cordage cheerily
Whistling to the open sea
Down from London Pool, O!
London Pool's a crowded place,
Ay, boys! O boys!
London Pool's a crowded place,
Crafts and crews of every race!
O to hear the clanking chain
Trail along the wharf again, -
Hear the tautening ropes astrain
Down from London Pool, O!
London Pool's a gallant sight,
Ay, boys! O boys!
London Pool's a gallant sight,
Toil by day and glare by night!
O to shake our heels and go, -
Feel the four free winds ablow,
Hail the lights of long ago
Down from London Pool, O!
poem by Cicely Fox Smith
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A Rich Girls Life
The hot breezy air
The delicious candy
My brand new bear
And the adults brandy
Lying back
In a tropical palace
With Santas sack
My friends will be jealous
It’s a rich girls life
Every ones dream
No chores for the wife
‘cause a butler’s keen
Lots of treats
What ever I want
Delicious meats
Or a jam custard crassant
Dive into a pool
Or private beach
Calm and cool
With a soda in reach
Now time for a sleep
In my four poster bed
Nice and deep
My favourite colour red.
poem by Bianca N/A
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Twisting By The Pool
Were going on a holiday now
Gonna take a villa, a small chalet
On the costa del magnifico
Where the cost of living is so low
Yeah, were gonna be so neat
Dance to the eurobeat
Yeah, were gonna be so cool
Twisting by the pool
Sitting in a small cafe now
Swing, swing, swingin to the cabaret
You wanna see a movie, take in a show now
Meet new people at the disco
Yeah, were gonna be so neat
Dance to the eurobeat
Yeah, were gonna be so cool
Twisting by the pool
And we can still get information
Reading all about inflation
And youre never gonna be out of reach
Theres a call-box on the beach
Mmm, youre gonna look so cute
Sunglasses and bathing suites
Be the baby of my dreams
Like the ladies in the magazine
Yeah, were gonna be so neat
Dance to the eurobeat
Yeah, were gonna be so cool
Twisting by the pool
Im a twisting fool
Just twisting, yeah twisting
Twisting by the pool
song performed by by Dire Straits
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Tell her you love her
The road became bumpy suddenly,
All the promises vanished eventually,
They loved each other dearly,
Yet their pride defeated them,
She said sorry yet his pride defied it
She said sorry yet he looked aside,
She went on bended knees,
Yet he remained with a cold heart,
Knowing he loved her more,
But too proud to tell her
A wrong choice he did
Time became a thief,
All the moments stolen,
Pride and time played an interplay,
Yet time was stealing her also,
In her pronounced lonliness,
She found herself in a pool,
Crossing the road mindless,
It was the bus,
Everyone hated the bus,
Found swimming in a pool,
He despised his pride,
Seeing her in a red pool,
Telling her he loves her,
In the wrong time of course,
He should have known
The fate was fatal,
Witnessing her final breath,
Yet she wanted a lifetime with him,
Holding her dragging pulse,
Yet she wanted heartbeats with him,
Swimming in blood,
Yet she wanted to swim in water,
Wanted marriage but it was damage,
He should have known.
poem by Gaylord Munemo
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Mid Term Break
It was mid term break
from school and she met you
at the back of your house
down by the small pond
you both called the pool
where you could sit
and watch ducks swim
and birds sing
in nearby bushes
and she said
I've just read about some nuns
who wear clothing
when they bath
so that God
can't see them naked
a magpie flew by
and you noticed
how difficult it was
to tell
its wing from tail
and you said
Would God be interested
in seeing naked nuns?
she gazed over
at the trees
on the other side
of the pool
her blue eyes
catching sunlight
Well they obviously thought so
she said
and she lay back
on the grassy bank
and you lay beside her
and she put out a hand
and her fingers
touched yours
and you lifted up
her hand and kissed it
and it tasted of soap
as if you'd dived
into her bathwater
and swam
between her thighs
How sweet you are
she said as you let
her hand go
and she held it
and looked at it
then a blackbird
swooped across the pool
noisily and broke
the momentarily magic
and she said laughing
You don't know
where my hand
may have been
and you taking in
the sunlight dancing
in her big blue eyes
Maybe not
you replied
not telling her
what
in your dream
you'd seen.
poem by Terry Collett
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Subterranean for M lady Deana
Cascades of crystal water flow
into the waiting pool below.
The force and power of the descent
Renders the water turbulent.
Although hemmed in by rocky walls,
the pool beneath the water falls
is never known to overflow.
I wonder where the waters go.
Far, far away a river flows.
I have been told by one who knows.
Its source is that same rocky pool
which send its waters clear and cool
By secret streams deep underground
to where an exit can be found
A pathway to the world outside
to form a river deep and wide.
Close by its brink I sit and think
as shy wild creatures come to drink.
His explanation could be true
a train of thought which I pursue.
At last I find I must accept
this rather startling new concept
Which solves for me a mystery
I need no longer wonder why.
That distant pool won’t overflow
it has some outlet down below.
Which sets the pent up waters free
to run swiftly and secretly.
Through passages unknown to men
until it can emerge again.
Into the light where it can be
a broad stream dreaming placidly.
20-Nov-07
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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First trip to the pool for Rosie
Two tiny tots
Named Rosie and jack
Raced to the revolving doors
With sports bags on their back
The were so exited
'Bout a morning at the pool
Jack had been just twice before
But Rosie, not at all.
They manoeuvred obligingly
To climb into their suits
Then as their mums locked up their stuff
The two were in cahoots
In between plans
About what, we'll never know
They made their way to pool side
Mums cried 'steady as you go'
Jack asked his friend
'Rosie, can you swim? '
She said 'Don't know, I've never tried.
I'll see when I get in'
'I can'
he boasted.
But really he could not
His goggles made his ears stick out
As in the pool he got.
Rosie followed after
The water wasn't cold
She seemed not to be anxious
And the side she didn't hold
Jack splashed his arms
Yet his feet stayed on the bottom
Rosie shouted 'swim then jack!
.. Or have you forgotten? '
Jack got cross
His arms just flapped and flailed
He tried to lift his feet again
But hopelessly he failed
Rosie pondered quietly
The cogs in her head spinning
And then with out a warning
She had a go a swimming
And do you know what?
She swam right up to jack
And Both mums jaws dropped open
As she turned and swam right back
No one could explain
Where on earth she'd got those skills
Perhaps in her last life
She was an animal with gills!
poem by Stevie Taite
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