I was born by the River
My scholar friend keeps his late Grandma's diary
And a certain page was highlighted in the color of yellow.
My old ferryman you never realized that how I deeply loved you?
Since in the cradle the word 'depth' I heard several occasions from my parents.
They always talk about the mysterious river's depth.
But I am grown up now and I understand the nagging life is more deeper than the river.
A hidden alligator in the river takes a soul away once in a way
And you disappeared without saying me Goodbye!
I murmur your everlasting song while sitting on my sick bed.
'This old vehicle stops at all railroad crossings
As I am really scared of painful death.'
* My humble dedication to Sam Cooke for quoting his wonderful song's title.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Squirrel my little friend!
I watch your jumps from tree to tree
with that bushy tail
And your song I try to understand
If I write this way
Is it okay?
Man raises his bony hands and questions
from the dumb sky of his future?
Sky's helpless as she cannot stop the clouds
that wander here & there?
Man tries to hide his wealth in the river
But river flows to the sea ever?
Man sketches his sky scrapers
But nobody stays here and his offspring
fly everywhere when they grown up
Leaving the old sick parents there?
a humble dedication to my poet friend Narain j.p!
A Buddhist faces death not as a crisis in life but as a normal event, for he knows that whoever is born must suffer, 'decay', and ultimately die. Or, as someone so aptly puts it, 'Everyone is born with the certificate of death at his birth.' If we could all look at death such an intelligent and rational way, we would not cling to life so tenaciously.
'Ayamantima jatinatthidani punabbhavo'
This is my final birth and there is no more rebirth for me.
(Dhamma Cakka Sutta) . -The Buddha
nimal dunuhinga
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Where Is The River?
Where is the river?
Is it here
Or somewhere else
Where is the river?
Is it here
Or hidden under the ground
Where is the river?
Is it here
Or safe inside the cave
Where is the river?
Is it here
Or still far away
Where is the river?
Is it here
Or up above the cloud
Where is the river?
Is it here
Or out of our reach
Where is the river?
Is it here
Or trickling on the rock
Where is the river?
Is it here
Or gathering in the pool
Where is the river?
Is it here
Or down over the cliff
Where is the river?
Is it here
Or just sight of illusion
Where is the river?
Is it here
Running in your eyes
Where is the river?
Is it here
Or sudden flood in the road
poem by Maria Sudibyo
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Walking the river
You looked into the eye
of that white hot sun
and found something there
that spoke to your soul,
in your heart and mind
you heard a voice
and thought about the Creator
of the river, sun and sky
and left your car
at the river’s edge
and into the water you went.
That big black great loving dog
was with you
and it was just river and sun
and you walked on
into the water
over boulders, stumbling
over rocks
barefoot and naked
walked through pools
and felt like Eve
and for a time were free
from the burdens of life.
At first your hound
splashed out in front
but later like a shadow
was bound to you,
protecting, guarding
and caring
with wide open brown eyes,
sharp white fangs
and it didn’t understand
where you were going
but loved you more
than to bother about that
or food or heat.
At times it barked
and sometimes it growled,
but nobody dared to get near
and while the shadows draw out
you walked on
right into the night
looking up at the bright stars
and followed the full moon
rising up big and yellow
in that dark sky.
l’Envoi
You heard that river’s song
and just walked on
catching the splashing
and the murmur
over shelves of rock
into some ponds
and somehow during the next day
people found you
who had commonsense
and was sensible
and they helped you
and took care of your dog
and your feet were pierced,
had some blisters
and there were scratches
on your legs
and still the river flows
on to somewhere
and now you are back here.
poem by Gert Strydom
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A Ferryman and His Blind Dog!
Villagers were certain that he died a long ago
But I met him last night at the river bank.
Though his dog's blind wagged its tail
While I was talking to ferryman.
He said the Blacksmith his old friend has borrowed the ferry
To bring his forgotten tools but he's scared
Whether he could row safely to this side
As the weather was not so good?
Then I said I am going back home
And he gave his kind regards to my parents.
On the way I realized that my parents were no more
And all were in the same boat!
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Right Across The River Bend
Right across the river bend there’s a warm gentle breeze.
Right across the river-bend are trees with yellow leaves.
Right across the river bend the water reflects the sun.
Right across the river bend is a smell of innocence.
Right across the river bend a robin’s egg is broken.
Right across the river-bend are peaceful mountain valleys.
Right across the river bend a dandelion is carried.
Right across the river bend are fields of shiny green grass.
Right across the riverbend are memories made to last.
poem by Alicia Page
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The River
The river sways in time with us,
When it is too late the water gets violent;
Angrier, the river aborts the laughter
And fixes the wounds of the mouth.
The river now stays still to adore,
Adoration reminds the river,
Thus the river is caused to behave
And not be aggressive on us.
The real river is upon us,
Deeper rivers find it funny
Why your own ocean is so old.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Free River
Free River flow, Free River
so cold, Free River
you’re getting old.
Free River don’t cry, Free River
you’ve run dry.
I still see you through my youth’s eyes.
Free River you told no lies, Free River
your path has been made, Free River
all things change.
Free River you made it to the sea.
The friends I swam with once
are now gone, left only me.
Free River you’re worth more than gold, Free River
I've grown old.
I’ve lived by you my whole life and
I’ve left my seed through my wife, Free River
I lie at your shore; now dry,
Free River it’s my time to die.
poem by Patrick Dumas
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Song: When I Saw The River Rise
With soggy ground across the state,
The rain fell from the skies.
The storm seemed bound to seal our fate,
When I saw the river rise.
We'd built up all our levies,
Yet still we were surprised,
By the height and depth of eddies,
When I saw the river rise.
When I saw the river break it's banks.
Increase in breadth and size.
It came atop of that water-tank,
When I saw the river rise.
Together held fast, from the full weather blast;
We stayed 'cause we thought it wise.
With my partner tasked to do what I asked,
When I saw the river rise.
Just a short drive, she arrived in town,
To pick up more supplies.
A flash-flood found and drove her down,
When I saw the river rise.
The news was bad, I'd lost all that I had;
All that I valued and prized.
More than just sad, I was sure driven mad,
When I saw the river rise.
And I stood there on the paddock gate,
As the tears streamed from my eyes.
And I did not care how long the wait,
For all the help, it came too late,
In shock, in loss of my best loved mate,
When I saw the river rise.
When I saw the river rise.
poem by Dave SmithWhite
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The River Sings
The river sings
A voice rises above
Fairer than the water, rings
I know you well
For the river has told
All there is to tell
It sung of a maiden
Fair as the water’s song
Her heart heavy laden
Though she sang
Her song was sorrowed
In voice the sadness rang
No words were needed
The river knew
Her voice it heeded
She walked alone
Her gaiety was lost
River, her only home
She listened to the water
Telling a story
Calling her River Daughter
The river sang, through day and night
Sang for her, the only listener
She joined the song, through dark and light
She called to her lover
Come free me!
Called with song and river
poem by Rachel Harris
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In Fancy The Song Of The Dipper
In fancy the song of the dipper I hear
The river he sings in to my thoughts are near
With snow white breast and mostly dark brown
As he sing on a rock midst the rapids he bobs up and down
A beautiful to look at bird with a plain enough song
Once seen and once heard him you never get wrong
As birds go one might say a stranger to renown
He lives and breeds in the river that flows by the town
'Tis part of his natural duty for him to help his dipper wife
For to raise their young dippers for a river life
And in Seasons from now when the life from him long gone
The song of the dipper in the river lives on
In fancy I can hear him singing today
And the river he sings in from me doesn't seem far away
poem by Francis Duggan
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A Mason's daughter and a Carpenter's son
Each & every muddy brick
And the wooden planks of their house
Whisper about the courageous parents
And the cottage comes up gradually.
The proud sky is bit inquisitive it seems
And the humble river says;
'Do not worry, their innocent roof won't touch and bother you anyhow.'
Big ferries cross the river with huge cranes and building materials
And the proposed 'Toy Factory' build up very soon as per the country bald-headed Mayor's election promise.
The old ferryman sings in a sad voice late at midnight;
'Hey! Dear Sons & Daughters
Definitely you all get jobs
And you meet strange faces with a new busy culture.
But don't change your lifestyle and let them burn your halcyon cottages
Those were built by your poor parents hardly.'
*Certainly the rich stormy winds ruin the bourgeoisie Folklore.
-From the poor ferryman's Scrapbook.-
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Goodbye To A River
(don henley/stan lynch/jai winding/frank simes)
The rains have come early, they say
Were all gonna wash away
Well, thats all right with me
If heavens torrent can wash clean
The arrogance that lies unseen
In the damage done since we have gone
Where we ought not to be
Goodbye to a river
Goodbye to a river
So long
Lakes and levees, dams and locks
They put that river in a box
It was running wild
And men must have control
We live our lives in starts and fits
We lose our wonder bit by bit
We condescend and in the end
We lose our very souls
Goodbye to a river
Goodbye to a river
So long
The dirty water washes down
Poisoning the common ground
Taking sins of farm and town
And bearing them away
The captains of industry
And their tools on the hill
Theyre killing everything divine
What will I tell this child of mine
(solo)
I make a church out of words
As the years dull my senses
And I try to hold on to the world that I knew
I struggle to cross generational fences
And the beauty that still remains
I can touch it through you
Goodbye to a river
Goodbye to a river
So long
Goodbye to a river
Goodbye to a river
So long
Goodbye to a river
Goodbye to a river
So long
Goodbye to a river
Goodbye to a river
Roll on
song performed by by Don Henley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Same Place, Same Song...
because the song is played
you have no choice but to remember it
at first you say it is just a song
and you are a man
the song goes on and on
and beneath the song is a big river wanting to end its life joyfully
into the sea
because you are alone
and you have no one to cling to
you follow the river
and the flow goes on and on and on
and then you drown yourself inside that big river
now you have chosen the song
and it has become another part in you
it settles in your heart
and then you pay the bill, do not finish your beer and you go away
to have a dose of fresh air
same boulevard, same walk, but now at a different time
because this place has become
a part of you
and then you drown yourself into said
memory
what a joy can this be
again and again and again.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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When The River Flowed
When The River Flowed
© 2011 (Jim Sularz)
Dedicated to my Brother-in-Law: William L. Browne III (1959-2011)
Let it be known, in memoriam, that he is loved.
And any earthly bonds that shaped his soul,
is now a wide river flowing,
to a distant Heaven bestowed.
He could have walked a much longer path,
and would have paused again, with a hearty laugh.
But, when the river flowed, when the river flowed,
– it marked this hour, for him to go.
Don’t cry for him, with welling tears upset,
but celebrate his fulfilled years, instead.
When the river flowed, when the river flowed,
- it moved his gift of life ahead.
For loving sons, family, friends and beloved wife,
he leaves cherished memories, a faithful man’s insight.
And when the river flowed, when the river flowed,
- it moved him gently, to Everlasting Life!
poem by Jim Sularz
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Rollin On
Tom johnston
Outside of town there is a river
And it calls to me
Like a song in the night
A whole lotta people make way to that river
Cause it keeps on rollin on
Like everythings alright
That old river just keeps rollin on
Even when all love is just a song
And like that river we just keep on rollin along
Everybody needs somethin they can count on everyday
Like a clock that keeps the time for ya
It never drifts away
You and me you see are different but the same
And though we may not understand each other
We got to try just the same
Now all these thoughts dont mean nothin
If we dont live like we say
And I for one need love and direction
To help me find my way
song performed by by Doobie Brothers
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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That Old River
Look at that old river, sitting there so still
Full of fear, almost frightening - got to get
to that old river tonight somehow.
Freedom calls for me tonight, dreams only of old
dusty fields - no more, no more at last - got
to get to that old river somehow.
Is that biscuits I smell in that old kitchen - not
tonight I cry - across that old river tonight before
I die. Out the door I began feeling the warm breeze
in the air. Oh Lord! Help me to make it there.
With each step my feet got heavier and heavier - holding
my breath, scared to death. It's just me and you Lord,
sure can't turn back from this journey now.
This night seem longer somehow - suddenly I could hear
voices from afar - must be getting closer I sigh. Come
on over I heard someone cry, got to get across this old
river, freedom before I die.
Slowly, down the river we went, my heart gave a big sigh.
Suddenly, the boat hit solid ground - I jumped up
Hallelujah! Lord! I made it to the other side.
As I began to look back at that old river, it didn't seem
so big at all. Good-bye Old River, Old River Good-bye
poem by Cassandra Mitchum
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Black Muddy River
When the last rose of summer pricks my finger,
And the hot sun chills me to the bone,
When I cant hear the song for the singer,
And I cant tell my pillow from a stone,
I will walk alone by the black muddy river,
And sing me a song of my own,
I will walk alone by the black muddy river,
And sing me a song of my own.
When the last bolt of sunshine hits the mountain,
And the stars start to splatter in the sky,
When the moon hits the southwest horizon,
With the scream of an eagle on the fly,
I will walk alone by the black muddy river,
And listen to the ripples as they moan,
I will walk alone by the black muddy river,
And sing me a song of my own.
Black muddy river, roll on forever,
I dont care how deep or wide, if youve got another side,
Roll muddy river, roll muddy river, black muddy river, roll.
When it seems like the night will last forever,
And theres nothing left to do but count the years,
When the strings of my heart begin to sever,
And stones fall from my eyes instead of tears,
I will walk alone, by the black muddy river,
And dream me a dream of my own,
I will walk alone, by the black muddy river,
And sing me a song of my own, sing me a song of my own.
song performed by by Grateful Dead
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The river's song
The river's song
~
There's a song in the river
that streams from mountains and rain
it plays upon rocks and riverbanks
the birds and fish know it well
it flows effortless in a rhythm
pitched by its own will
a rolling waltz, serenely sweet
feeds the thirsty trees
there's a song in the river
an acoustic serenade
the endless symphony
where unwritten words decree
that there is music here
tide eventually to the sea
insects dance upon each note
while sticks and leaves
twirl away to its beat
there's a song in the river
and it plays for free
poem by Matthew Holloway
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Nothing is more important than your health
To relieve my Arthritis joint pain
I started a rental boating in a river.
And the beautiful fish
around the boat,
They talk, sing & dance
As they're certain that I no carry baits?
They forced me to stay in the river
And confirmed that they could cure my nagging pain!
At last they said; 'Nothing is more important than your health.'
*[Still I remember the Yellow-tail Snapper's meaningful song;
'There are two types of pains,
One is physical and the other is mental?
Swimming is the best for the first
and meditation is ideal for the rest.']
nimal dunuhinga
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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My river bank
The water hit the bank
Like a wave upon a shore
Happiness just out of reach
Finding that is something you can’t teach
No one to talk to
No one to see
As you can tell just me
I sit alone on my river bank
No happy people passing by as I let out a gentle sigh
I realized I sit alone on my river bank
Unreal happiness in this unreal tournament they call life
I sit alone, isolated on my river bank
I shall always sit alone on my river bank
I will always be alone on this river bank
poem by EmOzEd johnston
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