Tsunami
From the slumber deep, the Lord Monster awoke,
The subterranean walls, the doors of hovel He broke,
Unleashing the force of mighty muscles, and limbs,
“Intend I to see the world.” to the Vice He spoke.
Then yawned and rubbed His eyes and said good bye,
To the assistants sat loathing in the dark hovel nearby,
With the heavy bulky back He up rose like an Iceland,
Pushing water, rather emptying, throwing to the sky.
He came out, and abased in the sea-water knee deep.
Disturbed waters making commotion began to sweep,
The structures of the houses with the dynamic force,
That instantly turned them into rubble, and trash heap.
The waves travelled engulfing the lands all around,
Some were sucked by waters, some lay on the ground,
They floated, bloated, oscillated with the cold waves,
Some cried aloud, some uttered no voice, no sound.
The grief they suffered will remain till centuries green,
No one can overpower the tides of fate, Man has seen.
The Lord Monster seeing bodies like autumn leaves,
Dived He again back in sleep and wake between.
poem by Muhammad Shanazar
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The Leviathan: Far, Far Down In The Freezing Deeps
(after Alfred Lord Tennyson)
Far, far down in the freezing deeps
where icy water continually over it sweeps
its arms twirls and its body is like a mass of rock
where it for centuries sleeps
and in the dark world below
it lies like a prehistoric monster as if in its grave
while the waves and hidden streams over it flows
and above it break wave upon wave
where it is silent since the devastating flood
hardly notices the waters rush,
while very slowly flows its lifeblood
and it lays waiting in ambush
until the day that Michael returns to earth
to erupt above the waters as if coming from new birth
as a gigantic monstrous thing
with multiple heads and fiery beaks that swing.
[Reference: “The Kraken” by Alfred Lord Tennyson.]
poem by Gert Strydom
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The Gloucester Mother
When autumn winds are high,
They wake and trouble me
With thoughts of people lost
A-coming on the coast,
And all the ships at sea.
How dark, how dark and cold
And fearful in the waves,
Are tired folk who lie not still
And quiet in their graves
In moving waters deep
That will not let men sleep
As they may sleep on any hills,
May sleep ashore till time is old
And all the earth is frosty cold.
Under the flowers a thousand springs
They sleep and dream of many things.
God bless them all who die at sea!
If they must sleep in restless waves,
God make them dream they are ashore
With grass above their graves!
poem by Sarah Orne Jewett
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Where The Waters Meet
today i feel good
i walked in the water
loved how it felt under my feet
i look out in the oceans
and wonder
where the waters meet
so i walk i untill the water meets my breast
i look around and see more water
am i in the middle
where the waters meet
do it feel me
where the water meets my skin
so warm and soft
but yet so i wonder
where the waters meet
i give in to the waves
and lean till i float
close my eyes and i feel my self drift away
where the water meet i will never know
where the waves take me is where ill go
where the water meets my soul
poem by Raesheka Antwine
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I Did Not Want...
I did not want to miss
you, you may not know
or, I forgot to say you-
I really, kept my days
gone in an ornamented
memory box.....
Buried the cascade, under
the red leaf tree, its
leaves are red, red
as my bleeding heart.
Rather-
I'll lock it with a monster
padlock, and throw the
giant key into the
deep grief sea.
Fathomless is its depth
and water is green, green
as the peach......!
Throwing the keys
I'll turn back to my
home of solitude,
to get the peace of mind!
poem by Nilakshi Das
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The beating of the waves...
The waves beat on the sand before it,
Crashing in with a roar and splash,
Owning the beach for its self
It owns nothing else then the open space
That reaches to end of the earth
Into ports, rivers and lakes
The water an unmatched force,
Taking and living life
In the shallows to the deep
Coated in scenic colours,
In blue and greens and gold
Majestic and effortless,
The waves sweep in on the beach,
Engulfing anything that floats,
Moving with the wind,
Nothing is more powerful,
Unpredictable,
Then the rising waves of the seas
poem by Melissa Coventry
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The Flood Has Lifted Up
The flood have lifted up, O lord
Down deep below sea level, New Orleans.
The mighty water came, O lord
Down deep below sea level, New Orleans.
God gonna trouble the waters, O lord
Down deep below sea level, New Orleans.
Many people lost homes and lives, O lord
Down deep below sea level, New Orleans.
poem by David E. Patton
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Concentric
Pebble tossed into waters deep
Ripples awakened… from gentle sleep
Concentric rings of force in search
Of mossy banks ‘gainst which to lurch
And said stone sinks deep…deep
To mossy floor…watched by perch
…then seen no more…
Small rock I tossed, wraps silt around
Then snuggles deep into muddy ground
And sudden silence, not a peep!
It calmly falls into stony sleep
On mossy floor…in water deep
To visions of rapids and craggy shore
Watched by tadpoles
…then seen no more…
Pebble tossed into waters dank
By chance and fate, and cosmos swept
At random picked from rocky bank
Like life and Nature's mysteries kept
By chance and fate, by love and hate
We're children not of choice, but chance…
Given only a summary glance
Then seen no more
…no more…
poem by David Whalen
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Bathing
Bathing in a river is a fun
The flowing waters clash with your muscles
and runs past you
It fails to carry you off
where Proserpine surrounded by sea nymphs
holds her court
But dip into the waters once
And for a few seconds you foget yoursel; f
You can feel at that time the waves of nothingness
taking possession of
Think and you are amidst fire
Think and you are amidst surging sounds
It is sheer sensation and thoughtlessness
The reality then pricks you penetrates into you
pours into you waters of nothingness and life
They give you some prescience of the world
which Proserpine rules
Once you pop up from the waves you are baptised
Because you dipped in the well of light
Water and fire, light and wind, sound and silence
They remain different and yet they come to you
as if they are not different from one another
And bathin g is a great fun
poem by Dr. Ramesh Chandra Mukhopadhyaya
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In Memoriam A. H. H.: 11. Calm is the morn without a sound
Calm is the morn without a sound,
Calm as to suit a calmer grief,
And only thro' the faded leaf
The chestnut pattering to the ground:
Calm and deep peace on this high wold,
And on these dews that drench the furze.
And all the silvery gossamers
That twinkle into green and gold:
Calm and still light on yon great plain
That sweeps with all its autumn bowers,
And crowded farms and lessening towers,
To mingle with the bounding main:
Calm and deep peace in this wide air,
These leaves that redden to the fall;
And in my heart, if calm at all,
If any calm, a calm despair:
Calm on the seas, and silver sleep,
And waves that sway themselves in rest,
And dead calm in that noble breast
Which heaves but with the heaving deep.
poem by Alfred Lord Tennyson
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Emancipation Hymn
Praise we the Lord! let songs resound
To earth’s remotest shore!
Songs of thanksgiving, songs of praise —
For we are slaves no more.
Praise we the Lord! His power hath rent
The chains that held us long!
His voice is mighty, as of old,
And still His arm is strong.
Praise we the Lord! His wrath arose,
His arm our fetters broke;
The tyrant dropped the lash, and we
To liberty awoke!
Praise we the Lord! let ho’y songs
Rise from these happy isles! —
O! let us not unworthy prove,
On whom His bounty smiles.
And cease we not the fight of faith
Till all mankind be free;
Till mercy o’er the earth shall flow,
As waters o’er the sea.
Then shall indeed Messiah’s reign
Through nil the world extend;
Then swords to ploughshares shall be turned,
And Heaven with earth shall blend.
poem by Anonymous Americas
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Psalm 77 part 2
Comfort derived from ancient providences.
"How awful is thy chast'ning rod!"
May thy own children say:
"The great, the wise, the dreadful God!
How holy is his way !"
I'll meditate his works of old,
The King that reigns above;
I'll hear his ancient wonders told,
And learn to trust his love.
Long did the house of Joseph lie
With Egypt's yoke oppressed;
Long he delayed to hear their cry,
or gave his people rest.
The sons of good old Jacob seemed
Abandoned to their foes;
But his almighty arm redeemed
The nation that he chose.
Isr'el, his people and his sheep,
Must follow where he calls;
He bade them venture through the deep,
And made the waves their walls.
The waters saw thee, mighty God!
The waters saw thee come;
Backward they fled, and frighted stood,
To make thine armies room.
Strange was thy journey through the sea
Thy footsteps, Lord, unknown;
Terrors attend the wondrous way
That brings thy mercies down.
[Thy voice, with terror in the sound,
Through clouds and darkness broke;
All heav'n in lightning shone around,
And earth with thunder shook.
Thine arrows through the skies were hurled;
How glorious is the Lord!
Surprise and trembling seized the world,
And his own saints adored.
He gave them water from the rock,
And safe, by Moses' hand,
Through a dry desert led his flock
Home to the promised land.]
poem by Isaac Watts
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Floods
In the dark night, from sweet refreshing sleep
I wake to hear outside my window-pane
The uncurbed fury of the wild spring rain,
And weird winds lashing the defiant deep,
And roar of floods that gather strength and leap
Down dizzy, wreck-strewn channels to the main.
I turn upon my pillow and again
Compose myself for slumber.
Let them sweep;
I once survived great floods, and do not fear,
Though ominous planets congregate, and seem
To foretell strange disasters.
From a dream—
Ah! dear God! such a dream!—I woke to hear,
Through the dense shadows lit by no star's gleam,
The rush of mighty waters on my ear.
Helpless, afraid, and all alone, I lay;
The floods had come upon me unaware.
I heard the crash of structures that were fair;
The bridges of fond hopes were swept away
By great salt waves of sorrow. In dismay
I saw by the red lightning's lurid glare
That on the rock-bound island of despair
I had been cast. Till the dim dawn of day
I heard my castles falling, and the roll
Of angry billows bearing to the sea
The broken timbers of my very soul.
Were all the pent-up waters from the whole
Stupendous solar system to break free,
There are no floods that now can frighten me.
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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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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The Rising Of The Storm
THE lake's dark breast
Is all unrest,
It heaves with a sob and a sigh.
Like a tremulous bird,
From its slumber stirred,
The moon is a-tilt in the sky.
From the silent deep
The waters sweep,
But faint on the cold white stones,
And the wavelets fly
With a plaintive cry
O'er the old earth's bare, bleak bones.
And the spray upsprings
On its ghost-white wings,
And tosses a kiss at the stars;
While a water-sprite,
In sea-pearls dight,
Hums a sea-hymn's solemn bars.
Far out in the night,
On the wavering sight
I see a dark hull loom;
And its light on high,
Like a Cyclops' eye,
Shines out through the mist and gloom.
Now the winds well up
From the earth's deep cup,
And fall on the sea and shore,
And against the pier
The waters rear
And break with a sullen roar.
Up comes the gale,
And the mist-wrought veil
Gives way to the lightning's glare,
And the cloud-drifts fall,
A sombre pall,
O'er water, earth, and air.
The storm-king flies,
His whip he plies,
And bellows down the wind.
The lightning rash
With blinding flash
Comes pricking on behind.
Rise, waters, rise,
And taunt the skies
With your swift-flitting form.
Sweep, wild winds, sweep,
And tear the deep
To atoms in the storm.
And the waters leapt,
And the wild winds swept,
And blew out the moon in the sky,
And I laughed with glee,
It was joy to me
As the storm went raging by!
poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
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Midnight
Unfathomable Night! how dost thou sweep
Over the flooded earth, and darkly hide
The mighty city under thy full tide;
Making a silent palace for old Sleep,
Like his own temple under the hush'd deep,
Where all the busy day he doth abide,
And forth at the late dark, outspreadeth wide
His dusky wings, whence the cold waters sweep!
How peacefully the living millions lie!
Lull'd unto death beneath his poppy spells;
There is no breath—no living stir—no cry
No tread of foot—no song—no music-call—
Only the sound of melancholy bells—
The voice of Time—survivor of them all!
poem by Thomas Hood
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Deep Sleep
Ive been walking in a deep sleep
Sleepwalking but I just woke up
From a deep sleep
A very deep sleep
Ive been running on remote control
In a deep sleep
I awoke the moment I was told
That a smile is just a frown turned around
On the face of a clown with a mean streak
It was a deep sleep
A very deep sleep
I cant remember what I used to know
Somebody help me now and let me go
Into a deep sleep
Push me back now let me go
Into a dream again
To a sleep unlike before
So deep it never ends
Ive been caught inside a deep sleep
Sinking deeper after I forgot
Sleepwalking as I watch myself
In a deep sleep
I keep pretending that its someone else
song performed by by Devo
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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News of War
Today, while yet the rumour filled the street,
I left your faces troubled with the thought
Of brothers to a bodeful fury wrought;
And, hurrying past a thousand twinkling feet,
With clouded heart a solitude I sought,
The haunt of many leaves--a cool retreat--
And mused of strife with untold interest fraught;
Of homes; of bloody battles to be fought;
Nor stirred till night rose stormy, and the deep
Moaned like some monster shaken in its sleep.
Then doleful sounds came up from lea and lynn
Where rain fell heavy on the gloomy deep,
As if the world, so old and sick of sin,
Had turned her face into the dark to weep.
poem by Henry Kendall
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The fear of death was in their eyes
The fear of death was in their eyes
waves filled the boat to their surprise.
Then through the storm a voice was heard
the encouraging voice of the Good shepherd.
He'd seen His sheep struggling with their fear
and came to comfort them and to draw near.
They heard Him speak the words 'Fear not'
and amidst the storm their fears forgot.
'If it's You Jesus' Peter said to the Lord
'Bid me come to You, I'll obey your word.'
The command to come he heard from You
Gazing into Your face Peter's faith grew.
Putting his fears to one side courageously
he stepped outside the boat onto the sea.
Then he began to think 'What have I done'
and took his eyes off of God's Only Son.
He saw the wind and waves come crashing down
and became afraid thinking he would drown.
Taking his eyes off the Lord in horror
distracted by the waves and the winds roar.
'Lord save me' Peter cried out in his fear.
Jesus reached out for He was standing near
and then lifted him back inside the boat
back into safety he was kept afloat.
Sailing this earthly sea we experience fears.
The storms of life can bring such tears.
When He calls us to step out of the boat
eyes fixed on Jesus will keep us afloat.
For our hearts of fear the Lord can transform
and by faith in Him we can face the storm.
With are eyes firmly fixed upon the Lord
we can step out of the boat obeying His word.
written after reading Matthew 14: 22-31
Ebb-Tide
NOW the vexed clouds, wind-driven, spread wings of white,
Long leaning wings across the sea and land.
The waves creep back bequeathing to our sight
The treasure-house of their deserted sand,
And where the nearer waves curl white and low,
Knee-deep in swirling brine the slow-foot shrimpers go.
Pale breadth of sand, where clamorous gulls confer,
Marked with broad arrows by their planted feet;
White rippled pools, where late deep waters were
And ever the white waves marshalled in retreat
And the grey wind in sole supremacy
O'er opal and amber cold of darkening sky and sea.
poem by Edith Nesbit
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Drowning Ophelia
The water seeps up, up
(lapping, licking, soothing)
twisting around the parts of
your body that you have
come to know and hate
because this is the body
that the world abandoned
The water is soothing
the water is deep
lay down your heavy head
close yours eyes and sleep
(thick, dreaming, dark)
sweet, bright little lamb
so alone, so lost in Hell
The water circles your neck
clothing you in elegant dress
your mouth was once dust
your body made of bugs
now water floods your lungs
(silk against burlap)
you feel clean and pure and done
This is how you drown
legs twisted and still
hands thrust out into the chill
letting the water, clean and cold
(sweet, inky, dark, deep)
take your tired, finished mind
and dance it down to sleep
poem by Elizabeth Rebel
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