Rivers, Waters Of A Variety
Left to us is a lake of anxiety,
Understand them, see how the liquids roar.
Water is an ornament of details,
It is the hearth and heart of some troubles.
A sea works fine with someone,
I am fine and fair with the sea.
It has walls, walls too magnificent,
O Medium of the heavy rain,
Bless us anyway to make much too much ruin,
Inside the chamber of horrific water.
Water is the holy blessing of deeds,
The fountain is near, my friend.
I observe from my flowers in the head,
And tiny drops are unleashed by the millions
As one single magnificent, marvellous fountain.
Jagged and muddy so clean is this true monument
That is worthy of anointing me.
This is the gargantuan fountain of hearts restored.
Next, we trek and see ahead the path
And its journey to live among the river
Of Eternity.
The river has never kept a blood
Or a sport so fine as Me.
O Medium so great, do discover my soul.
So then there appears a Waterfall,
So slothful and hard at worry.
The peace and tranquillity finally emerges larger,
It is larger than the fountain, heavier.
The way of the river is angrier,
But we shall descend as a waterfall.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Related quotes
Like A Fountain Of Water
Like a fountain of water
Kissing you throughout
You will like the latter
What it is all about.
Like a fountain of water
Flowing endlessly
Like a waterfall in a far away site
What is its whereabouts?
Like a fountain of water
I dream of you
Forever flowing in my mind
A hand touching my heart.
Like a fountain of water
Expunging the errs in my life
Waiting for fate to strike
It all changes my mind.
poem by Georgia Leana Benedictos
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The Lake, The Fountain
by the lake so still so calm
sky-blue cloud-white
more sky than water this autumn day
the air so still above
there a tree leans over the water
as if in thanks
and here a gathering of stones
awaits the offhand lapping of the wavelets
bringing out the many colours of the stones
that remember mountains edging the horizon
with light and shadow through the day
over there a fountain plashes over worn carved stone
fed by a mountain waterfall wild fountain tamed
throwing up a million new-mined diamonds
droplets sparkling like a chandelier
the sun catches turning air and water
into unceasing dance of somehow joy
the still lake the dancing fountain
telling with water two stories
stillness in joy
joy in stillness
as two white-robed nuns who whisper laughing
laughing whisper
in the cool of the evening
beside the fountain
before prayer
and holy silence
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Water
Water is innocent as dew.
It sparkles in the sun like new.
Water is naive and childlike as a river.
It runs along and has no bother.
Water is naughty as waves.
It tickles the feet and plays games.
Water is beautiful as rain,
and washes away all your pain
Water appears wise as a sea.
It's huge and unfathomable as can be.
Water is humble as a lake.
It has beauty simple but not fake.
Water is mysterious when deep.
Its full of fear and gives me creeps.
As a fall, it cascades,
as if breaking barriers and liberates.
As a fountain it adorns gardens and palaces,
and symbolises aristocracy, richness and success.
Water is stagnant and muddy as a puddle,
but has a core to be someone special.
poem by Maitreyee Joshi
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I Wish
I wish I was a sparrow
with stick legs and onyx eyes
I'd sip the garden fountain
and I'd beat my arms to fly
I wish was the fountain
spilling water clear and clean
A place for them to land on
Oh, how happy I would be
I wish I was the water
pouring out into the bowl
For water is just water
and it has no tale of woe
I wish I was the score
of music water droplets make
for any of, or all above
are better than my fate
poem by Sara Fielder
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Running Water
Playing around like a clown
I didn't see a puddle of water
on the ground
Falling from the dip
I lost my grip
to face down
water dripping
from my head to my draws
It was like
going down Niagra falls
having a view
of all bodys of water
from the creek, lake, river
ocean and sea
I thought I was watching TV
falling from a tree
to what sudden deepth
wait upon me
A great whale waitting
to eat me
to bones
all of my flesh
all I saw
at bottom was rocks and stones
my blood and chest
The bodys of water
was a total mess
Swirving in and out
to the red sea
the Atlantic Ocean was now upon me
I can barely see
Sliding the crust of the narrow Potomac River
I was thirsty
and ready to drink
only to see trash
passing by
I must think
pushing the water fountain
cloud of dirt
beside Oxon Hill Creek
is there any real water
to drink
I was just running water
in my cell
hurt
hoping for the best
water come clean and fresh
poem by LaRon Green Sr.
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Sinking..
Down in the water
By the edge of the river
where I ponder my life
just how did I get to this
Down in the water
By the edge of the river
where the waterfall of dreams
sweeps away what’s left to the abyss
Down in the water
by the edge of the river
where time stands still
Just only forever.
Down in the water
by the edge of the river
where I buried all
that was ever childhood
Where I let it go,
where it bends and meanders,
twisting along as the years went past.
Seemingly calm, but screaming beneath the surface
were its hidden whirlpools, a sweeping current
Down in the water,
I left the edge of the river,
as I looked down
for my soul at the bottom.
Deep in the water
Swept away by the river
I drowned in life,
......sinking forever.
poem by Deep Dark Soul Poet
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Fountain of God's Grace
The water is there -
ever-flowing, bursting
singing, dripping, cascading…
The flow may be fast;
it maybe slow.
But the water is there
never emptied, never dried.
It flows to empty
and aching hearts.
It reaches out to
to the rich and mighty.
It embraces those
who are left with nothing
except the choice to come
closer to this fountain.
And yes, this fountain of God's grace
grants the water of hope, the water of life.
poem by Elizabeth Padillo Olesen
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The Case Of A Waterfall
a waterfall can be seen in different angles
different versions can be said
how a waterfall falls from a very high cliff
the first version is the waterfall itself
the second as you turn clockwise
gives you the version of a fog hanging on a cliff
or a horizon of white clouds
the third version, as you turn another quarter
again on a clockwise direction gives you a water fountain
going up the sky
and the last version on another clockwise
or quarter turn gives you the rage of the river
flowing to the sea
that is how reality appears to our very eyes
some points of view
how life becomes depends on how we see it
coupled with our faith
within ourselves
to one who sees a twisted point of view from a dog's eyes
life appears like a tick sucking blood from the armpit of
a puppy
blood is drained and stored on a bloating stomach
of the tick. Life is actually, how you see it.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Down in the deep water..
Down in the deep water
By the edge of the river
Where I ponder my life
Just how did I get to this
Down in the deep water
By the edge of the river
Where the waterfall of dreams
Sweeps away what’s left to the abyss
Down in the deep water
By the edge of the river
Where time stands still
just only forever.
Down in the deep water
By the edge of the river
Where I buried all
That was ever my childhood
Where I let it go,
Where it bends and meanders,
Twisting along as the years went past.
Seemingly calm, but screaming beneath the surface
Were its hidden whirlpools, a sweeping current
Down in the deep water,
I left the edge of the river,
As I looked down
For my soul at the bottom.
Deep in the deep water
Swept away by the river
I drowned in life,
......Sinking forever.
poem by Deep Dark Soul Poet
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Soul is coloured
The king has soul; the slave has soul; so does the beast.
The fountain has water; the river has water; so does the pond.
Soul is like water coloured with the body.
30.03.2008
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Millions of water drops
drops of water
millions of drops
Falling down the rocks
Millions of water drops
Glittering in the sun
Shining like pearls
Millions of water drops
Ending as a river
Finding way to ocean
Millions of water drops
Creating childrens happiness
Laughter and joyfullness
Millions of water drops
Soon will tide reach
White long shores
Millions of water drops
Animating Waves
into forming caves
Millions of water drops
splittering from above
till reaching top of the hill
Millions of water drops
Without them no sound
No whispers of the living
Millions of water drops
Watch the clearness
From crest to earth
Millions of water drops
For tribe’s best
Beware of waste
Millions of water drops
Treasured should they be
As belonging to all humanity
(march 2008, Switzerland)
poem by Morhardt Carmen Mencita Monoi Angel
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Soft Spray
As gravity pulls river water down
A huge explosion of sound reverberates
And I feel the falling of the water
As if I was a part of the river
As the water glides over the high cliff
I strain to listen to ev'ry sound made
Expecting some profound revelation
To hear the words of God in the water
As the waterfall plunges to the earth
Releasing a soft spray that kisses me
I listen to the din of the water
Hoping to hear the lessons of nature
As I stand here listening to the roar
Of the waterfall moving before me
I also hear the peace surrounding me
Easing the chaos that torments my soul
As the soft spray kisses me, I simply
Relax and enjoy the calm of nature.
poem by Nate Flying Owl
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Water, Poet: Sohrab Sepehri
We shouldn’t muddy the water
A pigeon may drink it down the road
Or in a far away grove a starling may bathe
Or in the village, a jug may be filled
We shouldn’t muddy the water
This running water may feed a poplar and
wash away sadness from a heavy heart
A dervish may dip his dry bread in it
A pretty woman may come to the river bank
We shouldn’t muddy the water
The beauty will be doubled
What refreshing water!
What limpid river!
How pure the uptown people are
May their springs always boil and their cows always milk!
I have not seen their village
But, no doubt, god walks along their wattles
The Moon, over there, lights the width of words
No doubt, uptown, the walls are short
Their people know what a poppy is
No doubt, over there, blue is blue
The people know when a flower blooms
What a village it would be!
May its garden alleys be filled with music!
The people from the head of the river know water.
They did not muddy it
Neither should we
poem by Mehraneh Hosseini
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Diana, Princess of Wales Memorial Fountain
The Memorial Fountain is really rather fascinating in its design,
As the water doesn’t always follow its course in one straight line.
The Fountain in itself is an extremely interesting feature,
As it moves in all different ways, just like a living creature.
It’s a focal point to which many people make their way;
Where adults can sit and relax and young children can play.
Parents sit on the lush green grass next to the flowing water,
Whilst keeping a watchful eye on their sons and daughters.
On the side of the Fountain, visitors can choose to take a seat,
And sit chatting away together, whilst paddling their tired feet.
The Fountain aims to represent the different aspects of Diana’s life:
The times of joy and happiness, and the times of trouble and strife.
The flowing water runs down an incline, not too steep.
At some points, it’s very shallow and at others, it’s deep.
Around the channel there are various depths and widths:
At some points it rises up, while at other points, it dips.
At some points, the water tumbles and slightly churns,
Whilst at other points, it meanders in twists and turns.
At some points along the way, the water flow is pretty fast,
Whilst over other points, the water is quite slowly passed.
At some points the water runs down surfaces so very smooth,
Whilst at other points, its flow is disturbed by little grooves.
At three points, the course can be crossed by little bridges,
Near to where the water jumps down over little ridges.
At some points, the foaming water cascades over a waterfall,
Whilst at others, the water slows down into a leisurely crawl.
The water is pumped from the top, down in two directions.
At the bottom, the waters meet in a pool of calm reflection.
To spark some kind of emotion, the fountain never fails.
Some simply come to remember Diana, Princess of Wales.
A real air of majesty this special Fountain does possess.
It is a fitting tribute to a much-loved and missed Princess.
poem by Angela Wybrow
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Pure Life
Where is your life going?
Is your water in a waterfall, dropping, and getting worse?
Or is it filling your glass, overflowing, and getting better?
Is your water still there?
Not evaporating?
Being dried up by the sun?
Are you losing time?
Do you watch how your water flows?
Water is pure and signifies life.
How is your life?
Or are you sad, with your water raining tears?
Is your water warm or cold?
Is your water steam or ice?
Is your soul cold or warm?
I hope your water is overflowing like a fountain with joy.
Not everyone's water has to be evaporating.
Remember to always watch where lifes heading.
Because maybe your water will mix and lives will intertwine.
Be with that person forever.
poem by Natalie Vail
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The Spouts
In this world of
as fine a pair of breasts
as ever I saw
the fountain in
Madison Square
spouts up of water
a white tree
that dies and lives
as the rocking water
in the basin
turns from the stonerim
back upon the jet
and rising there
reflectively drops down again.
poem by William Carlos Williams
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Licia Sonnets 27
The crystal stream wherein my love did swim,
Melted in tears as partners of my woe;
Her shine was such as did the fountain dim,
The pearl-like fountain whiter than the snow;
Then like perfume, resolvéd with a heat,
The fountain smoked, as if it thought to burn;
A wonder strange to see the cold so great,
And yet the fountain into smoke to turn.
I searched the cause, and found it to be this:
She touched the water, and it burned with love.
Now by her means it purebased hath that bliss,
Which all diseases quickly can remove.
Then if by you these streams thus blesse'd be,
Sweet, grant me love, and be not worse to me.
poem by Giles Fletcher The Elder
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Thirsting Water
fine
as a river, so deep
twig in the carousel of fountain,
drifted to the shore of safety,
where other may hide the
crystal pure water ready to drink
of what might be the truth to believe
and live for today
whistle
the setting sun, the premium
of the humid
flesh touches my skin, like sweating lips
of loft for a new taste of honey bee
lies in the mother’s breast
I always pray
turn around
and let the cup of sweet droplets
of water
calm the sea, vie as you’ll be gone a
hatred of the sand comes
to bail the boarding shadow of a
torent soul, as you
command
depart,
just as you rise the nightfall
lasting memory to live,
like a simple wish in an strange land,
I am gone …..
poem by Antonio Liao
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Can You Turn?
Can you turn from the sword
that invites-please
'Hang upon me? '
Or shrink back from the
boasting pool that whispers
'Jump'
But I am afraid of blood which
makes me sick
Scalding water on tender skin-
It is terrible, terrible, terrible
Faith is useless here:
I tell you this, it is no illusion
The blood is real and so is the bubbling water
Look carefully:
Behind the road you trod;
rubbed out
Do you believe me?
Look at me!
'Speaking'
But you couldn't... trees they
Were too thick.. they went by
Chanting, chanting, chanting:
It's fine It's fine It's fine
Jump in, jump in, jump in -
But I'm already - splashing, splashing, splashing
Must I beat my way to the riverbank
to prove I'm wet
Outrage danced on my lips, that
Sputtered and danced
Can You Turn?
And around the bend came the
voices fainter and fainter
'the water - the water - the water
is fine
jump in- jump in - jump in-
And no more I was free! !
I dipped my hand in the water
And the drops ran out of
my fingers - the sun lit
into my throat -
What a wonderful, wonderful day
for knowing I thought
'What a wonderful, wonderful place for swimming'
I murmured
And it was true: the water
was cream and silk
The sky was bright as disaster
Suppose they came back?
Suppose they came back!
Was the mutter that crinkled the
edges of being
But the water smoothed in
over the sunshine
'False friends' 'Deceitful loves'
Who has not known these
the world over?
Does it then blot out the sun! ? !
And dry up the river?
Can You Turn?
Jump in, my dear, my dears
my dears-
The water is fine, it's fine, it's
fine
The water- the water- the water
The whisper is treading water
with no body
and not convinced -
But I will learn
I will Learn.... I will learn
Some day I may lead the
chanters myself
Yes it's well to have marching
feet and banners
Even with this
'The water is fine, jump in, '
they cried
Its fine, its fine, its fine
jump in- jump in- jump in
'But I'm already in, ' I screamed
'can't you see, can't you see,
can't you see? '
poem by Isabelle Cooper
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Survial.
Water comes from the river origin is clean,
I wash my head.
Water comes from the river branch is dirty,
I wash my feet.
Oh sure, when water in the pool is clean,
I jump in to swim.
But, when the pool is dirty, I leave at once,
And quit my job.
Oh who’s the original source not let me clean?
Keep my head and body clean without water?
How can I keep my head clean in the river?
How can I keep my body clean in a pool?
What is going on about the water?
How could I live in this world?
poem by Albert Wong
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