With these Oars and Within This Vessel
Do you see these oars?
I made them to row...
Against waves that may come to rock,
With a wind prepared to slow my determination.
If not attempt to stop...
My vision.
With a blocking done by indecision!
This is not that kind of 'trip'.
These oars are mine.
And this vessel too,
Has been redefined and constructed.
With my hands blistered!
From a nonstop flowing of faith.
And I could care less what the odds are.
Or what the others may say of me being bizarre...
Crazed and a bit 'touched'!
I am going to reach my destination.
With these oars.
And within this vessel.
Regardless of what the others may say...
My sights are not limited to this neighborhood.
And free they are of restricting myths.
'You remind me of Noah.
That dude that build that Ark.'
Cool.
But I am speaking figuratively.
Emblematic!
Metaphorically suggestive as to those steps I'm taking.
My journey does not entail traveling with a zoo.
'I'm sure all of nature thanks you for your thoughtfulness.
In an emblematic metaphorical way.'
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Related quotes
Snatches from History 1
They adored him, their Louis Quatorze
such a legend and so many lores,
on a trip up the creek
during Ramadam week
he'd forgotten to pack his two oars.
He had wanted to visit les noirs
and peruse the Oriental Bazaars,
in the end (due to oars)
he'd be covered with sores
and a red, angry pile on his arse.
Said the emperor when he returned
'well, as far as myself be concerned
they can all go to Hell
for they lie, cheat and smell
I could care if the lot would get burned.'
That's when strife grew between the two nations,
one, the King could not muster the patience,
nor would THEY dropp their veil
(boy their skins must be pale!)
all of this led to hyperinflation.
poem by Herbert Nehrlich
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His Boat
This boat you see, friends, will tell you
that she was the fastest of craft,
not to be challenged for speed
by any vessel afloat, whether
driven by sail or the labour of oars.
The threatening Adriatic coast won’t deny it,
nor the isles of the Cyclades,
nor noble Rhodes, nor fearful Bosphorus,
nor the grim bay of the Black Sea
where, before becoming a boat, she was
leafy wood: for on the heights of Cytorus
she often hissed to the whispering leaves.
The boat says these things were well known to you,
and are, Amastris and box-wood clad Cytorus:
she says from the very beginning she stood
on your slope, that she dipped her oars
in your water, and carried her owner from there
over so many headstrong breakers,
whether the wind cried from starboard
or larboard, or whether Jupiter struck at the sheets
on one side and the other, together:
and no prayers to the gods of the shore were offered
for her, when she came from a foreign sea
here, as far as this limpid lake.
But that’s past: now hidden away here
she ages quietly and offers herself to you,
Castor and his brother, heavenly Twins.
poem by Gaius Valerius Catullus
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Keep A Rhythm
Push out the boat and let us row downriver,
Under bridges and around each curving bend.
Dipping the oars as cleanly as we’re able,
And pulling strongly, to reach our journey’s end.
The currents are quite powerful as we travel,
And concentration has to be intense,
But we will keep a rhythm in the doing,
And on completion, thrills will be immense.
Push out the boat and let us row upriver,
Gliding through the water like a dream.
Such a sight, is this vessel when in motion,
As we together, make our way upstream.
In control, there can be nothing nicer,
Great fulfilment with each stroke that’s plied.
A Sunday afternoon of such sheer pleasure,
When skimming o’er the water, starry-eyed.
poem by Ernestine Northover
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The Vessel
The Vessel was a thing of clay.
the sort you use, then throw away.
It was worth little, of itself,
but that vessel was filled with Love.
It poured out Love upon the Living
Free and selfless was its giving.
When at last the clay was dry,
it was the vessels time to die.
It shattered on the sands of time,
now half a lifetime gone from mine.
The vessel was my Dad you see-
and by his gifts I was set free.
I wept the day he met his end-
will I ever see his like again?
God willing on a higher plane
I'll get to call again his name.,
but if my journey ends in dust,
he taught me how as all men must.
poem by John F. McCullagh
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Windup my sail
Windup my sail
Like falling, leaves.
Windup these pirate tales
What no one else believes?
Oh, quarter master—
Mistress of the high seas
Beat your drum
Let these oars men
Stroke each falling wave
Once and again…
Where nothings are nearly
Quite begun or ended…
Or recovered
With each rolling, days
Sirens sacrifice
Tossed up into
The foaming waves of what’s
Dew dropped into thee
Into me, still unknown..?
Oh, catch that thunder
In the harbor in the rain
Like linen
Touch the healing…
In the lightening’s
Craped ripped breath…
In the sunlight
Of your soul
Like a dove
With an olive leaf
Returning home
To a king of the truly wise
Wind up my sail
Tonight I drowned
At these oars
For the light!
poem by Mark Heathcote
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Towards the Oasis
There is no journey on boats
Without the oars
There is no pathway to victory
Without the steps of defeats
Without a long journey through the desert
You will never get an Oasis
Once the struggle is over
You will get the life you longed for
Burdens you carried on your shoulders so for
The struggle and tears
Will become sweet memory
And pages of your biography
poem by Kavin Charalan
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My destination
My destination is life at the end of the line
My destination is graduation when it’s time
My destination is my diploma I bet I get mine
My destination is to stop with the lay back being cool
My destination is to reach to top of the school
When you reach the top I want you to look over and have in your hand a four leaf clover
As you step on the edge and start to look down turn around fall back make no sound
So the next destination you reach is the ground
poem by Jacob Valentine
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Strenght Of Our Love
The first day i set my eyes
on you we bond same ship
we sail like there is no tomorrow,
In this ship we merry some time
tears drops, in the middle of
stroms and massive wind mixed
with lighting we hold on. Together
we fought the pirates, that shows
the strenght of our love. Great waves
but it just can't stop us.As the ships
around us are sinking our determination
keeps ours flowing.sailors and captains
praise the beauty of our ship and our
determination to reach our destination.
poem by Enyinwa Okechukwu Enyinwa
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Island
By: jimmy buffett, david loggins
1980
For jane
Island I see you in the distance
I feel that your existence
Is not unlike my own
Island they say no man is like you
They say you stand alone
Sometimes I feel that way too
Its the need for love
Heart and soul accompaniment
Seems to make me different from you
Chorus:
Well I tried to book passage, but you have no ports
And I tried to sail in, but your wind and waters
Tore my sails and broke all my oars
Island I see you in the moonlight
Silhouettes of ships in the night
Just make me want that much more
Island I see you in all of my dreams
Maybe someday Ill have the means to reach your distant shores
When the need for love
Heart and soul accompaniment
No longer makes me different from you
Chorus:
Well I tried to build bridges
But they all fell down
And Ive taken to the air on wings of silver
But I always hit the ground
(instrumental)
Well I tried to book passage, but you have no ports
And I tried to sail in, but your wind and waters
Tore my sails and broke all my oars
Island I see you in the moonlight
Silhouettes of ships in the night
Just make me want that much more
song performed by by Jimmy Buffett
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Battle Of Salamis
The night was passing, and the Grecian host
By no means sought to issue forth unseen.
But when indeed the day with her white steeds
Held all the earth, resplendent to behold,
First from the Greeks the loud-resounding din
Of song triumphant came; and shrill at once
Echo responded from the island rock.
Then upon all barbarians terror fell,
Thus disappointed; for not as for flight
The Hellenes sang the holy pæan then,
But setting forth to battle valiantly.
The bugle with its note inflamed them all;
And straightway with the dip of plashing oars
They smote the deep sea water at command,
And quickly all were plainly to be seen.
Their right wing first in orderly array
Led on, and second all the armament
Followed them forth; and meanwhile there was heard
A mighty shout: "Come, O ye sons of Greeks,
Make free your country, make your children free,
Your wives, and fanes of your ancestral gods,
And your sires' tombs! For all we now contend!"
And from our side the rush of Persian speech
Replied. No longer might the crisis wait.
At once ship smote on ship with brazen beak;
A vessel of the Greeks began the attack,
Crushing the stem of a Phoenician ship.
Each on a different vessel turned its prow.
At first the current of the Persian host
Withstood; but when within the strait the throng
Of ships was gathered, and they could not aid
Each other, but by their own brazen bows
Were struck, they shattered all our naval host.
The Grecian vessels not unskillfully
Were smiting round about; the hulls of ships
Were overset; the sea was hid from sight,
Covered with wreckage and the death of men;
The reefs and headlands were with corpses filled,
And in disordered flight each ship was rowed,
As many as were of the Persian host.
But they, like tunnies or some shoal of fish,
With broken oars and fragments of the wrecks
Struck us and clove us; and at once a cry
Of lamentation filled the briny sea,
Till the black darkness' eye did rescue us.
The number of our griefs, not though ten days
I talked together, could I fully tell;
But this know well, that never in one day
Perished so great a multitude of men.
No regrets Sailor; And yet to go?
He pushes the boat into the sea.
He jumps and holds the rickety oars,
Sits comfortably
And he rows.
Waves welcome him in a friendly manner
And he sings his soliloquy!
'The trip won't be rough and calm like a lass.'
Then the vast sky responds; 'There won't be rough at all
But you know where you go?
Wherever you go do not come to a conclusion
That the voyage is over and yet to go? '
[Take care my seafarer son! And please convey my loving regards to old friends perhaps with their wreckage, if you meet them on your way! Let them know that your grandpa still breathes hardly! ]
* To Oskar! one of my poet friends.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Then Why Not I?
if the sparrow builds a nest
without the use of hands...
then why not I?
if the whale answers calls
from across the ocean...
then why not I?
if the tree stands through
storm after storm, season after season...
then why not I
if the butterfly lives eternity
in one precious moment...
then why not! ?
if the wind comes and goes
without home or destination...
then why not I?
if the mountain waits in stillness,
never asking what it's waiting for....
the why not I?
if the bridge knows only feet,
and the boat waits for oars...
then why not I
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Song Of The Viking
I am a viking of some note
Knuts my name and here I float
Out on the sea in a great big boat
And Im the one who beats the drum in time
To stroke the oars that drive our galleons on
And while we rowed we had our song
And we had our god, and it may seem odd
But at least there was a cause
Caught a wind and we upped the sail
Lost two ships when it turned to a gale
Down went a third when she rammed on a whale
Though we despaired we could not fail
And through it all we never faltered
Late at night I lay on the decke
Wondering whye I risk my necke
Picture myselfe in a sinkinge wrecke
Ande downe ime goinge notte knowinge whye
I just cant quite recall the reason why
Its such a drag to carry on
But there was a cause, but there was a reason
If you like Ill be your viking
Sit you down to a nordic meal
Give you strength that you might wield
A viking sword and a viking shield
And off well sail in mighty ships of yore
Perhaps we shouldnt let our hands get sore
We need someone to pull the oars
And to do the chores
So we need a cause, so we need a reason why
(erik is here!)
song performed by by Todd Rundgren
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Boat-ride, Surreal
there, there...down there
through a thicket of fog
beckoned a vacant boat
i fought through the fog
and reached a zone, misty
the boat pulled me as if
i were a piece of iron
i hastened through
the layers and layers...
there i was, at last
assured that it would
take me to the other bank
it wasn't to be
the gently rocking boat
began on an erratic sail
down down the stream
in its womb of deception
hid many a whirlpool
the waters jerky...
hey, what was i doing
sitting in a boat with no oars
nor knowing how to swim...!
'you're the boatman
you're the oars...
row row...
the other bank
a distant dream
row row...'
a song filled the stream...
18dec2009
0540hra
poem by Indira Babbellapati
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Aqueous Transmission
Im floating down a river
Oars freed from
Their homes long ago
Lying face up on the floor
Of my vessel
I marvel at the stars
And feel my heart overflow
Further down the river
Two weeks without my lover
Im in this boat alone
Floating down a river
Named emotion
Will I make it back to shore?
Or drift into the unknown
Further down the river
Im building an antenna
Transmissions will be sent
When I am through
Maybe we can meet again
Further down the river
And share what
We both discovered
Then revel in the view
Further down the river
Im floating down a river
song performed by by Incubus
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Life is born to die
Life is born to die
Only to sail by misery
With hope to reach His ocean
If only prayers are loaded along with
Oars become easy His hands
He sails by our misery to His ocean
poem by Indira Renganathan
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A Mid-Day Dreamer
I love to sit alone, and dream,
And dream, and dream;
In fancy's boat to softly glide
Along some stream
Where fairy palaces of gold
And crystal bright
Stand all along the glistening shore:
A wondrous sight.
My craft is built of ivory,
With silver oars,
The sails are spun of golden threads,
And priceless stores
Of precious gems adorn its prow,
And 'round its mast
An hundred silken cords are set
To hold it fast.
My galley-slaves are sprightly elves
Who, as they row,
And as their shining oars they swing
Them to and fro,
Keep time to music wafted on
The scented air,
Made by the mermaids as they comb
Their golden hair.
And I the while lie idly back,
And dream, and dream,
And let them row me where they will
Adown the stream.
poem by James Weldon Johnson
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Immigrant Song
Ah,ah ah,ah
We come from the land of the ice and snow
From the midnight sun where the hot springs blow.
The hammer of the gods will drive our ships to new lands,
To fight the horde, singing and crying:
Valhalla, I am coming.
On we sweep with treshing oars,
Our only goal will be the western shore.
Ah,ah ah,ah
We come from the land of the ice and snow
From the midnight sun where the hot springs blow.
How soft your fields so green,
We calmed the tides of war,
Can whisper tales of gore:
We are your overlords.
On we sweep with treshing oars,
Our only goal will be the western shore.
song performed by by Cyndi Lauper
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sinking
Youre on a wide open ocean
No one around you for miles
Your thinkin of drinkin on water
While youre sailing the nile
No one to stop you on your way
Flyin by goes a stork
You decide to bring your oars in now
But accidently knock out the cork
Row your boat to shore
cause it is leaking and youre still drinking
Unless you cork the hole
You wont be sailing, youll be sinking
Not knowin your sinkin
You take out a bottle of rum
Swiggin a drink to the bottom
The bottle reads van monchinghum
Oars back into the water
You think youll sail on
But you cant cause your boat contains
Three and a half gallons
Chorus:
Row, row, row your boat
Sail your ship to shore
Youre barely, barely, barely keeping afloat
I hope that you wont drink no more
song performed by by Gwen Stefani
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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