Swimming, below zero...
We swam the lake in mid-November
For a silly, madcap, dare.
In the distance watched a figure.
With a look of, despair…
A man's grimacing eyes, watched
Fishing on the far bank
As it happens my stepfather, crotched-
Legged, looking point-blank.
Pole in hand; gazing above, the rod-tip.
30 minutes, swimming the lake
One-side, only, we wasn't equip?
We'd made a big mistake.
Sure enough his glances, like the water
Were deeper than, our despair.
Soon we'd have to walk back feeling nuder
Than if our underwear were made of mohair!
But with my best friend walking by my side
I still felt unsingly, warm inside...
poem by Mark Heathcote

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Related quotes
Walking Side By Side
Walking side by side, hand in hand
one does not mind in walking together
on a path common, lying ahead
frosty dreamy, glowing in sunshine
if everthing can only be seen
in common eyes!
Walking side by side..
Who knows of tomorrow, of what makes
a village girl shy or a baby bird trembles
at her first flight
wings dance in so much joy
do not wish to come back on earth,
her earth! and flying side by side with winds of reckless freedom
her wings reckless, in sorrow with her earth
dreams captive, mind in despair
Walking side by side..
As more one pledges to walk side by side
more his dream captive, mind in despair
no more pledge please
pledge like a wish in bondage
ruins a dream
starves a dream, just
walk alone in dream
someone somewhere must take care!
Copyright: Shamik Bose 2009
poem by Shamik Bose

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I Watched
Pediatric E.R, R.I.P 11/5/09 (Volunteer work can be tough)
I watched…
A heartbreaking scene today
But I couldn’t take
my eyes away
I watched …
I feel shamed to say
I watched
a little girl die today
I watched …
an anguished EMT cry
I watched nurses drawn faces
I watched a little girl die
I watched …
Just outside the doors
The Frantic CPR applied
With frantic, futile force
I watched
Her mother fearfully enter the room
To be seated by her side
To share in her impending doom
I watched
A strange, unsettling scene
Upturned faces as if in prayer
hopefully watch the vitals screen
I watched
A life dissipate and fade
On a bed
That I had newly made
I watched…
At least a half hour they tried
With wondrous machines, marvelous medicines
Yet still, this little girl died
I watched…
Then I heard a small whimpering cry!
But It was only the mother
As she saw her child die
I watched…
Her arms outspread, her mom at her side
Young staring eyes so angelicly appealing
I watched, sadly watched….then I also cried.
poem by David Whalen

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The Big One
I watched two people fishing,
one August day at the lake,
the sun was shining brightly,
as I began to bake.
I found an old oak tree,
to sit under and glare,
I watched these two for hours,
with their fishing poles high in the air.
They talked about the old times,
as they tried for their feast,
they were hoping for the big one:
a fish known as 'The Beast'.
I watched them be patient,
casting again and again in the water,
the fish were just not biting,
as the day got hotter and hotter.
Into the evening they cast their poles,
but no cast was better than the one before,
they packed up their gear and headed for home,
as my day continued-under the oak by the shore.
poem by George Aul

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I Swam Through the Land
I Swam Through the Land
by Alex Lewis
I swam through the land,
But realized it wasn't grand.
After swimming through the soil,
I realized I was being disloyal
To the water I used to walk upon.
I had got up and I had gone.
I walked on the water the following day.
I waved to the clam, alone on the bay.
It wasn't all that great,
not too far from my hate.
After swimming through the ground,
I knew walking on water was not profound.
poem by Alex Lewis

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But Don't Despair
Despair, if you must –
But how's it going to pull you through?
Despair, when you trust
Naught since then there's naught to do.
Despair, should you thrust
Aside your pride, your self-esteem.
And so despair, if it's dust,
The only substance that you deem.
Despair, when a gust
Of slightly breeze can break your stance.
And do despair, when lust
Is your interpretation of romance.
But don't despair, if you can care
About the plight of any other being.
And you can focus on the help,
Support, and altruistic further actions
For the seeing. Be believing,
As despair will start receding
All around – simply since you found
A way to steer you clear
From this: the very cause of your despair!
So give to others; give them all a helping lift:
Despair, you'll find will disappear –
And that has got to be a well-deserved
And saintly gift!
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2009
Rain of despair
despair despair despair despair despair despair despair
despair despair despair despair despair despair despair
despair despair despair despair despair despair despair
despair despair despair despair despair despair despair
despair despair despair despair despair despair despair
despair despair despair despair despair despair despair
despair despair despair despair despair despair despair
poem by Mark R Slaughter

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I Went For A Walk
I went for a walk on the lake-side path today
And so disappointed am I for to say
That the lake is covered in blue green algae from end to end
To Nature few humans have been a good friend.
Fertilizer spread by farmers on their crops and washed into creek and drain
In thundery weather by heavy showers of rain
Cause blue green algae on the still waters to grow
Though others with more knowledge of Natural Science than I claim they know
That ducks help to spread blue green algae on a lake
Though the ducks side on this one I surely must take
For I do find that rather hard to believe
And for the pollution of Nature a reason to grieve.
For the health of our Earth Mother too few seem to care
Pollution of land and of water and air
And due to habitat destruction wildlife becoming rare
And too few 'twould seem are environmentally aware.
I went for a walk on the path by the lake
And I felt disappointed for our Earth Mother's sake
To see the lake covered in blue green algae from end to end
To Nature few humans have been a good friend.
poem by Francis Duggan

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Passion's Pride
Alone.........I sit
By the fishing hole
Didn't bring don't need
...No fishing pole
Just want to catch
A breath of air
..And reconcile
Distraught..despair
..For in my slumber
Though wide awake
Passion's pride
Fueled my mistake
..And now..so alone am I
By the fishing hole
Didn't bring..don't need
...No fishing pole
Author's note:
.....Just the way life is.........sometimes.....
poem by James B. Earley

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From a distance
From a distance Lord I followed You
as I wondered what the crowd would do.
Keeping silent I walked by myself.
There undetected I moved with stealth.
In the distance You were on Your own
before the Sanhedrin all alone.
By the fireside I stood keeping warm
leaving You alone to face the storm.
Then, 'You're one of them' I heard her say
so I turned my head and looked away.
'I don't know this man' out loud I said
and cursing denied my Lord instead.
Far from You my Lord I swore out loud
unable now to hide in the crowd.
With oaths and curses as I stood there
three times denying they heard me swear.
Your eyes met mine in the distance Lord
they spoke much louder than any word.
For the way, Lord that You looked at me
convicted me of my hypocrisy.
I felt so ashamed of what I'd done
and into the distance tried to run.
Though I wept and sobbed deep tears of grief
I was unable to find any relief.
In the distance as You climbed the hill
I kept myself hidden there until
You were led away and crucified.
The Lord I'd forsaken and denied.
'Too late' I thought as I saw You die.
'Too late to say sorry' was my cry.
So I left behind that shameful cross
and went back to fishing feeling my loss.
All through the night I was toiling there
as the dawn rose I looked in despair.
Then a voice called out loud from the shore
'On the other side you'll catch much more.'
On the other side we filled our net.
So many fish I'll never forget.
'It is the Lord' I heard someone say.
I leapt out of the boat straight away.
To be close to You was my desire
swimming to join You there by the fire.
The others joined with us at the meal
their wonder unable to conceal.
Three times You asked me if I loved You.
Three times I said 'Lord, You know I do.'
I thought as we dined by the sea shore
'I'll not keep my distance any more.'
Fish Story
A rainbow trout, who had
a big snout.With sparkling
spots all over his side.
While swimming fast, off
in a flash.He headed for
the swimming pool.Takin'
a dip, we'll have a sweet trip.
No cod, no bass, no check
to cash.A lake, a pond, or
even a stream.A place
where all us fish can screem.
A fishing pole, without a worm.
Now it's time to make you squirm..
Fish Story By kim Robin Edwards
Copyright 2005,2009..
ALL rights reserved..
poem by Kim Robin Edwards

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I am being watched..
Wherever I go, I am watched,
even to the loo, I am watched,
While driving the car,
crossing the signals,
Walking in the malls,
Talking in the halls,
I am watched.
When the smoking alarms go on,
I am watched.
When the traffic tickets issued,
I am watched.
When the bills are not paid,
I am watched.
When the bills are over due,
I am warned.
When my accounts are watched,
when my status is watched,
when my orientation is watched,
What freedom do I talk about?
When my finger prints are stored,
When my eyes are photographed,
When photographs are safe kept,
What freedom do I have?
poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi

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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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Yellow Billed Spoonbill
By the lake shore in the shallows where the waters are still
He walks in water to his knees the white bird with yellow legs and long yellow spoon like bill
With his bill in the water as he walk moving from side to side
His prey water insects, crustaceans and tiny fish in the water weed hide.
He and his partner build their nest on a high branch of a tree
On her nest of sticks she lays four white eggs though sometimes two or three
They both take care of their young a bird devoted to fatherhood as well as to his mate
Food from their stomachs to their nestlings they do regurgitate.
On river rapids never seen the still waters they need
Birds of the inland lakes and dams in the shallows they feed
Of humans 'twould be fair to say they have a healthy fear
To a human standing on the shore they never venture near.
Yellow billed or yellow legged spoonbill are names they are known by
On the lake I see one yesterday he did seem rather shy
With his long yellow bill moving from side to side in the shallows he shuffled up and down
The shiest of the water birds in the big park by the Town.
poem by Francis Duggan

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Deeper Side
Ive found a reason to dig deep down.
Theres a part of you that I aint found thats in your deeper side.
Instead of wondering what I should do,
I tried to learn a couple things about you from your deeper side.
Show me your deeper side. (show me your deeper side)
Show me your deeper side. (show me your deeper side)
Show me your deeper side. (its a mystery)
That I would give most anything to see.
Theres a lot of things that I would know
If you would let me climb into your soul and see your deeper side.
Everybody always seems so pure,
Then they show you what their heart stands for in their deeper side.
Show me your, yeah. (show me your deeper side)
Show me your deeper side. (show me your deeper side)
Show me your deeper side. (its a mystery)
I would give most anything to see.
You think the world has got your number now.
You cry about it but you know somehow its your deeper side.
I heard you wishing you were someone else
But all thats stopping you from being yourself is your deeper side.
So, show me your deeper side. (show me your deeper side)
Please, show me your deeper side. (show me your deeper side)
Oh, show me your deeper side. (its a mystery)
I would give most anything, and, I would give most anything.
You would give most anything to see.
Show me your deeper side.
song performed by by Hootie & The Blowfish

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Despair Is Darkness
DESPAIR IS DARKNESS
Despair is darkness-
Despair is death inside and death in the world and death in one’s own sad soul-
Despair is no way out -
Despair is the place where one is forever stuck -
Despair is the realization that one has done what one could – and one is not going anywhere else-
Despair is the admission of failure-
Despair is no sign of help anywhere around-
Despair is so much lost-
Despair is one‘s life is over-
Despair is regret-
Despair is the sense that one will never have the time to have another chance -
Despair is ‘it’s finished’-
Despair is no way out-
Despair is going down and more down and more dark and more afraid all the time -
Despair is the scream which hurts and does not stop the hurting -
Despair is the understanding that even Death will not save one -
Despair is that the pain will never end-not even with death.
Despair is no way out again and again and again- without end.
poem by Shalom Freedman

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Part 7 of Trout Fishing in America
THE PUDDING MASTER OF
STANLEY BASIN
Tree, snow and rock beginnings, the mountain in back of the
lake promised us eternity, but the lake itself was filled with
thousands of silly minnows, swimming close to the shore
and busy putting in hours of Mack Sennett time.
The minnows were an Idaho tourist attraction. They
should have been made into a National Monument. Swimming
close to shore, like children they believed in their own im-
mortality .
A third-year student in engineering at the University of
Montana attempted to catch some of the minnows but he went
about it all wrong. So did the children who came on the
Fourth of July weekend.
The children waded out into the lake and tried to catch the
minnows with their hands. They also used milk cartons and
plastic bags. They presented the lake with hours of human
effort. Their total catch was one minnow. It jumped out of a
can full of water on their table and died under the table, gasp-
ing for watery breath while their mother fried eggs on the
Coleman stove.
The mother apologized. She was supposed to be watching
the fish --THIS IS MY EARTHLY FAILURE-- holding the
dead fish by the tail, the fish taking all the bows like a young
Jewish comedian talking about Adlai Stevenson.
The third-year student in engineering at the University of
Montana took a tin can and punched an elaborate design of
holes in the can, the design running around and around in
circles, like a dog with a fire hydrant in its mouth. Then he
attached some string to the can and put a huge salmon egg
and a piece of Swiss cheese in the can. After two hours of
intimate and universal failure he went back to Missoula,
Montana.
The woman who travels with me discovered the best way
to catch the minnows. She used a large pan that had in its
bottom the dregs of a distant vanilla pudding. She put the
pan in the shallow water along the shore and instantly, hun-
dreds of minnows gathered around. Then, mesmerized by
the vanilla pudding, they swam like a children's crusade
into the pan. She caught twenty fish with one dip. She put
the pan full of fish on the shore and the baby played with
the fish for an hour.
We watched the baby to make sure she was just leaning
on them a little. We didn't want her to kill any of them be-
cause she was too young.
Instead of making her furry sound, she adapted rapidly
to the difference between animals and fish, and was soon
making a silver sound.
She caught one of the fish with her hand and looked at it
for a while. We took the fish out of her hand and put it back
into the pan. After a while she was putting the fish back by
herself.
Then she grew tired of this. She tipped the pan over and
a dozen fish flopped out onto the shore. The children's game
and the banker's game, she picked up those silver things,
one at a time, and put them back in the pan. There was still
a little water in it. The fish liked this. You could tell.
When she got tired of the fish, we put them back in the
lake, and they were all quite alive, but nervous. I doubt if
they will ever want vanilla pudding again.
poem by Richard Brautigan

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I went to fetch water from the lake
I went to fetch water from the lake, but my love wont let me, O mother!
Kneading my firm breasts, he lusted for the nectar of my lips, O mother!
I went to fetch water from the lake, but my love wont let me, O mother!
'How did you hurt your lips' my mother-in-law suspiciously asks.
'It was my girl friend's nail as she was helping me with the pots'
I went to fetch water from the lake, but my love wont let me, O mother!
I had gone in a great hurry but my love held me back,
It is excellent to attain Narsaiyya's Lord,
For he made me like himself, O mother!
I went to fetch water from the lake, but my love wont let me, O mother!
poem by Narsinh Mehta

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Renda Writer - The Other Line
I saw a man
Fishing
Off the side of the pier
Fishing for a fish
And then...
His cell phone rang
He picked it up
And began talking
Cell phone in one hand
Fishing pole in the other
And then...
The tip of his pole
Started bending
He got a bite
And then...
He said
To the person on the phone
'Let me call you back,
I've got someone on the other line'
poem by Renda Writer

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Fishing
I went fishing, for you
Well more net dipping
Not wanting to upset the balance of nature
I clumsily caught you, fishing.....
Gently I placed you in my ice cream tub
I fed you with images, words and honesty
You ate eagerly, it appeared to please
I studied what I could see and tried to learn it by heart
I put the tub in the water
As I had been taught at home
So you could swim away freely and unharmed
I watched you swim
but by surprise, you swam back
And whilst I smiled the deepest your wish to return
I did not want to tame you all the same
You are not mine to keep
You belong in wider waters
But my ice-cream tub sits below the surface
Dear friend, if you are curious, swim by when ever
I may just, by coincidence walk past and peer in.
poem by Stevie Taite

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The Price Of Water
The little lake, not far from the houses, has been
dry for years and is full of thistles and rubbish.
By, what was its shore, the sad rest of a rowboat
I remember it was blue, and someone had nicked
its oars; for firewood I take it. I used to row in
this lake in the evening catching trout.
When the moon made the lake into shimmering
silver my heart got quite wobbly by the beauty.
Last week I crossed the lake on my scooter, it was
not easy I lost my balance and was badly stung,
gasped for air, felt as drowning in a dry lagoon.
In the future the new commodity will be water.
poem by Oskar Hansen

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The Lake
The lake so grand, boats afloat
all sizes and shapes
pontoons, yachts, sails and fishing boat
people from all over and all ages
every wave so beautiful as the they stroll ashore
from white caps to rolling wave. the flow so endless
the boats flowing so gentling across the water
the fish swimming so free under the water
teasing the fishermen, steal the bait
the lake is the place to be on this fine day
God creation for all to enjoy
take the moment and view the lake
It so grand and so free
poem by Michael Peterson

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