En.Citatepedia^®.ro

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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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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The Ferryman

In April, back in twenty-one
Inside the Castle Myrmidon,
I worked the Master's stables
And I groomed Milady's mare.
The Baroness De Ville would roam
The country on her chestnut roan,
And I would lead her safely home
And tend to her despair.

They kept her close and under key
In fear that she might turn and flee,
But she was trapped by geography
Beside the River Styx,
The river turned and turned about
Confined her where the bank ran out
And often there, I heard her shout:
‘Save me from Asterix! '

The Knight, Sir Asterix had planned
To ask her for her maiden hand,
But she had turned in terror, and
Had flown up to her room…
There in the tower she stayed locked in
Until the Knight left Myrmidon,
Enraged, he swore that she'd be won,
By Whitsun afternoon!

Her uncle raged: ‘This cannot be,
You can't treat him haphazardly,
I'll see you wed to Asterix
Or else I'll turn you out! '
‘I'd rather be a beggar first,
Bereft of food, unslaked of thirst,
At least I know what would be worst, '
I heard Milady shout!

The master was Sir Oswald Gray
Of temper mean, that ruled the day
He held her fortune locked away
She said she didn't care,
The slight allowance that he gave
Was not enough to spend or save
But she was young, and she was brave
And stood up to him there!

They locked her in the tower room
In shadows, in the deepest gloom,
She wailed all night, as in a tomb
And tore her auburn hair!
I took her tit-bits in the night
Pushed through the grill, to her delight
And there she told me of her plight…
She loved Sir Gordon Ware!

Sir Gordon lived at Castle Pride
Some miles across the countryside,
But cut off by the river wide,
(She cried in her despair) .
But stories of this Asterix
His alchemy, his darker fits
With murder not the least of it,
Had terrorised her there!

I wandered to the river bank
To where an ancient boat had sank,
And there I met a Ferryman,
A dwarf with one good eye:
‘What brings you to the riverside? '
He looked out at the countryside
And turned his blind eye high and wide;
I shuddered, fit to die!

I told him of Milady's plight
How she wept bitterly at night
And would escape, if she but might;
The Ferryman said: ‘See…
Bring me three crowns of gold, my friend,
The lady, to the river's bend,
What they don't know, they'll never mend,
My oars will make her free! '

At Whitsun, she was dressed so fine
In wedding lace, and crepe design,
I held her hand, and she held mine
Out to the stable door;
I'd saddled up the roan for her
She leapt aboard, and called me ‘sir'
And thanked me to the river's spur,
The Ferryman said ‘Whoa! '

For back, and at the Castle Gate
There came a flash, a coach and eight
That raced to claim her heart, too late,
Though Asterix screamed: ‘No! '
She leapt the ferry with a laugh,
I passed the Kronors to the dwarf
And soon they swirled beyond the wharf,
Out in the undertow!

But Asterix then left me there
With blood congealed, and through my hair,
And told me, I should never dare
His country, now or soon;
But of Milady, I could see
She had escaped her misery,
And so my heart was light and free
Until that afternoon!

A peasant told me, passing by
That I had need to sit and cry,
I asked about the Ferryman
And this is what he said:
‘There hasn't been a Ferryman
At this point of the river plan
Since ever Adam was a man,
The Ferryman is dead! '

‘He got caught in the undertow
And floated down and down below,
The raging current took him so
And drowned him in the Styx.'
At times though, there's a troglodyte
Who boats here on a Whitsun night,
They say he is a dreadful sight,
Brought low by Asterix!

He was, they say, a fulsome page
That Asterix attacked in rage,
And worked his alchemy to stunt
His body, and his sight,
Since when he's roamed the riverside
In search of someone else's bride,
One kiss may just reverse the tide
Of Asterix's spite!

So now on evenings, when I go
To sit beside the river flow
I hear a voice to ghostly go:
‘Of love, I've drunk my fill! '
And then I see the coach and eight
In flight and through the Castle Gate,
Where Asterix stares out in hate,
He's looking for her still!

16 February,2012

poem by David Lewis Paget
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Hey Kind Friend

Hey kind friend
I dont know when Ill see you again
On a ferry boat bound to victoria
Laying down to hide from the wind
Big dipper hangin over the city
You know everything now is different for me
And it aint no use in
Explainin the scenery
I said
Kind friend
Help me forget where I been
Kind friend
Remember who I am
I was too late in spokane
So I caught a ride through the cascade range
I saw the sun die in olympia
Running down on capital lake
Now I ask you for some relief
Its one true root that you bring to me
Its 3 am
And its good company
I said
Hey kind friend
Help me forget where I been
Hey kind friend
Help me remember who I am
Hey kind friend
Dont know if Im gonna see you again
Its okay friend
Its okay friend
(its so hard when they all have to face going away)
So Ill meet you in new orleans or Ill see you around
Cause I dont know if its worth coming down
Hey Im calling you
From a goldrush town
And I say
Hey kind friend
Help me forget where Ive been
Hey kind friend
Help me remember who I am
Hey kind friend
I dont know if Im gonna see you again
Its ok friend
Im ok friend
I said Im ok friend
Im ok friend
(see ya later)

song performed by by Indigo Girls
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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River’s Utterance

River’s utterance
Known to both the banks;
Inform you river

Tell him that I am
Sitting on side of bank-
When boat anchor

Swimming is unknown
I am totally helpless;
How to cross river

All time day-night
High or low tide boat flows-
Crosses the river

O! Why the boat
You took him dropping me;
No life except her.

poem by Bongokobida Zakaria
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Come On Home

(tom springfield)
The springfields
Don't stand there wailing "got no place to go"
Come on home
You look at me like that and i can't say no
Come on home
Well, i know you done me wrong
And i know i should be strong
But, i cried the whole night long
So, come on home
Come on home
Tell me baby, must you be so cruel?
Come on home
You treat me just like i'm some kind of fool
Come on home
Well, i know you let me down
I was glad when you left town
But, you're good to have around
So, come on home
Don't run away now
Come on home
You got your way now
Come on home
A-hear what i say now
Come on home
Come on home
When you smile at me well i feel so good
Come on home
I can't be mad at you like i know i should
Come on home
Well you took me for a ride
And i thought my love had died
Still i need you by my side
So come on home
Come on home
Come on home
Come on home
Come on home
Come on home
Yeah, when you smile at me well i feel so good
Come on home
I can't be mad at you a-like i know i should
Come on home
Well, you took me for a ride
And i thought my love had died
Still, i need you by my side
So, come on home
Said yes
Come on home
Sit down
Come on home
Come on home

song performed by by Dusty Springfield
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Siblings Are Friends You Just Can't Get Rid Of

Siblings are enemies you cannot escape
Bound by blood
Bound by history
You know the real me
What's behind the mask I wear for others to see
Shared parents and vacations, and long Sunday drives
You always got the window seat ‘cause you got car sick - yeah right!
We shared a dinner table and breakfast...and bad manners too
A shared room, a shared mess, a shared bed, (the wetting was you)
We made mud pies together, and ate them, (or at least we tasted)
You gave me measles. I gave you mumps. (Those fevers truly sucked)
We nursed one another's heartbreaks
We dried each other's tears
We yelled and screamed, you said you hated me
You're a day person. I'm a night
You wanted to be early but I made you late
We became adults together
Buried our parents side-by-side
I hurt your feelings. You made me angry
We were callous and mean without even thinking
You weren't my friend, just a sibling, biologically speaking
Just someone I'm stuck with who lives down the hall
Or in the next town, or the far side of the planet....that's all
I didn't choose you, you know
And you would never have picked me
We only share parents
And some, (well a lot) , of memories
And a hometown, and I guess a private joke or two
I don't have to like you just because of those things, true?
But others in the family keep dragging us back together
Christmas lunch, family picnics, if I could stay home I'd rather
Then I forget what you did
You forget what I said
So we hug and we cry
It's been so long. Why?
We're just friends, (bound by blood) , that we just can't get rid of
Nor would we want to
Because....what in this world would I do
If ever I had to live my life without you

poem by DonnaJ York
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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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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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The Golden Boat

Clouds rumbling in the sky; teeming rain.
I sit on the river bank, sad and alone.
The sheaves lie gathered, harvest has ended,
The river is swollen and fierce in its flow.
As we cut the paddy it started to rain.

One small paddy-field, no one but me -
Flood-waters twisting and swirling everywhere.
Trees on the far bank; smear shadows like ink
On a village painted on deep morning grey.
On this side a paddy-field, no one but me.

Who is this, steering close to the shore
Singing? I feel that she is someone I know.
The sails are filled wide, she gazes ahead,
Waves break helplessly against the boat each side.
I watch and feel I have seen her face before.

Oh to what foreign land do you sail?
Come to the bank and moor your boat for a while.
Go where you want to, give where you care to,
But come to the bank a moment, show your smile -
Take away my golden paddy when you sail.

Take it, take as much as you can load.
Is there more? No, none, I have put it aboard.
My intense labour here by the river -
I have parted with it all, layer upon layer;
Now take me as well, be kind, take me aboard.

No room, no room, the boat is too small.
Loaded with my gold paddy, the boat is full.
Across the rain-sky clouds heave to and fro,
On the bare river-bank, I remain alone -
What had has gone: the golden boat took all.

poem by Rabindranath Tagore
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Two Boys Fishing

Two little boys fishing
Cheeky lads in short pants
Sitting on a river bank
Sharing sweets and fizzy drinks
Wondering what life may bring.

Two teenage boys fishing
Now shaving in the mornings
Sitting on a river bank
Talking of girls and a first time kiss
Excited by what love may bring.

Two young men at a wedding
Hard working, friends for life
One the groom the other best man
Talking softly waiting for the bride
Who comes so radiant in white.

Two middle-aged men
Abundant with family love and work
Sitting on a river bank
Talking of mortgages, school fees
And of coming Government elections.

Two old men fishing, old and grey
Grandfathers looking back at life
Sitting on a river bank
Grateful for each other's company
Sharing life's highway to God.

poem by Colin Ian Jeffery
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When the Parents Refuse to Come Home

When the parents refuse to come home
The children sleep beneath the babysitter’s skirt.
She will eat you out of house and home.
When the parents refuse to come home
The children shall set the house on fire,
And the babysitter shall save the family pet
That is content to be hand fed at the breast.
This night the parents are outside the loop,
They are out for a night on the town to renew their bound without the incessant want of children who shall burn the house down for attention.
The babysitter is watching TV under the blaze of the burning house where the family pet snicks beneath the smoke colleted by the ceiling.
When the parents stay out all night the children are discontented with the babysitter who have no time for children, she rather babysat the TV.
The babysitter refuse to pay taxes on her earning, she have parked the children in their beds where they learn the art of conversation from the TV.
The parents are having fun while the children are safe in the dream shatter of the right brain telling midnight stories of the day’s doings and the babysitter has invited her boy friend over for the night and he will eat you out of house and home while in their dream the children are buring the house down.
When the parents dance the night away in the night club the children are dreaming of the violent of the babysitter who eat the last of the pot roast left over from dinner.
When the parents refuse to come home the babysitter is contemplating the meaning of death and dying in the burning house.
The babysitter will grow up to become a parent and she will hire a babysitter when she go out to dance the night away as her children burn the house down.

poem by David E. Patton
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Do any of you know

A man and a woman
Came to my place one evening
I was playing with my dad
In the lawn in front of my home

These people got down
From the car
And my dad helped them
Unload a number of luggages

They approached me and
I was able to recollect
I have seen them somewhere
But quite long back

Not an issue
They were all kind to me
And they missed not an opportunity
To hug me and hold me on their shoulders
They did a lot to my mom
Especially while she was feeding me
As I was fussy about eating
They were with us for long

I started enjoying their company
And there were a number of evenings
When my mom and dad
Would silently disappear
Leaving me under the care of these visitors

I developed intimacy with them
They, for that matter, enjoyed
Taking care of me
I used to even feel that
These guys are better than my parents

These elderly people
Never scolded me nor threatened me

It looked to me they love me
The same way my parents do
Gone a number of days like that
I am in comfort
With all the love, care and attention
Of my mom, dad and these people
Despite repeated training
And insistence from my parents
I was not able to call these people
Grandma and Granpa
These people accompanied
me and my parents
Wherever we went in my dad's car

One fine day
There was a lot of discussions
Between all the elders at home
And there were preparations
As if some people are going somewhere

We all boarded the car
With huge luggages
And my dad was driving
We reached a place
These luggages were unloaded
I was put in a stroller
And the elderly woman
Left the scene pushing me in my stroller
And the other visitor
Came along

A number of things happened

I just then noticed
None of my parents
Went with us

It is now a week's time
I have not seen my dad or mom
But I hear them talking to me
Over the phone or the computer

It is sure I am not going to see them
For quite some days to come

Why worrying or crying
Over the absence of my parents
I am now settling with these visitors
Who took me away from my parents
But for what purpose
I do not know yet

Why me to be separated
From my mom and dad

Do any of you know

helping my mom

poem by Bashyam Narayanan
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Prayers of parents make a peaceful heaven to a home

Prayers of parents make a peaceful heaven to a home
The children who neglect their parents will be cursed,
The Nature makes such children’s house a hellish dome,
They are lucky children who are blessed by their parents,
It is said that there is a heaven under the legs of mother,
The children love or not to their mother but she loves all,
She embraces good or bad children but she can’t smother,
Mother is habituated to pray to God for all their happiness,
A few children won’t love their parents but love their wives,
In old age parents are in need of only their children’s love,
Who devote God, adore parents will be happy in their lives,
Love of parents always comes to children from the sky above,
God bless those children who are blessed by their parents,
And God curse those children who are cursed by their parents.

poem by INDIA Mazid S Kazi
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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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The Horse and Cart Ferry

It was old Jerry Brown,
Who’d an office in town,
And he used to get jocular, very;
And he’d go to the Shore
When they’d serve him no more,
And, of course, by the passenger ferry,
A sight on the passenger ferry.
Now this is a song of the ferry,
And a lay of the juice of the berry;
’Tis the ballad of Brown,
Who’d a business in town,
And commenced to go down
Very slow,
Don’t you know?
By coming home just a bit merry.

By the Drunks’ Boat—that’s right—
On a Saturday night
He would often be past being merry;
With his back teeth afloat,
On the twelve o’clock boat,
And a spectacle there on the ferry
(A picture to all on the ferry).

In the mornings, ashamed—
’Twas the last drink he blamed,
Though the first was the matter with Jerry,
With his nerve out of joint,
He’d sneak down to Blue’s Point,
And he’d cross by the horse-and-cart ferry,
Like a thief—by the horse-and-cart ferry.

But long before night
He’d most likely be tight,
And a subject and theme for George Perry;
And he’d cross to the Shore,
Somewhat worse than before,
And a nuisance to all on the ferry;
Singing-drunk on the passenger ferry.

And so it went on
Till his reason seemed gone,
And the Law, so it seemed, got a derry
On Brown. He went down,
And they sent him to town
One day, by “the trap,” on the ferry—
The Government trap on the ferry.

He was sober and sane
When he came back again,
And the past he’d determined to bury—
Or, I mean, live it down—
And he crossed from the town
Like a man, on the passenger ferry.
(There were sceptical souls on that ferry.)

They say ’twas the jaw
Of his mother-in-law
Drove him back to the juice of the berry;
But he soon got afloat
On the passenger boat
Or adrift on the horse-and-cart ferry
(Wrongly called the ve-hic-ular ferry).

The drink had him fast,
And he drank till at last
He dried up—a withered old cherry;
And they thought him no loss
When they sent him across
In a box, on the cart-and-horse ferry—
In a low, covered trap on the ferry.

Which I rise to explain—
If the moral ain’t plain,
And if you’re a cove that gets merry—
Always stick, when “afloat,”
To the passenger boat;
Or else to the cart-and-horse ferry,
Or you’ll make matters worse, like old Jerry.

But this is the song of the ferry,
And the lay of the juice of the berry;
And you will not deny—
If you read by-and-bye—
That the casual eye
Of the Tight
At first sight
Misses much in the song of the ferry.

poem by Henry Lawson
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Paper boat

Hunger has risen up to the sky.
Is your boat seaworthy?
I am scared my son will it be capsized on the way?
Your loving father's boat is a massive one.
I cannot listen to these scaremongers gossiping.
They are very superstitious of your father
And state that he lives in a remote island with a family.
Is it possible my son to bring your nuisance father back safely in your paper boat?

poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Little Abigail and the Beautiful Pony

There was a girl named Abigail
Who was taking a drive
Through the country
With her parents
When she spied a beautiful sad-eyed
Grey and white pony.
And next to it was a sign
That said,
FOR SALE—CHEAP.
“Oh,” said Abigail,
“May I have that pony?
May I please?”
And her parents said,
“No you may not.”
And Abigail said,
“But I MUST have that pony.”
And her parents said,
“Well, you can have a nice butter pecan
Ice cream cone when we get home.”
And Abigail said,
“I don’t want a butter pecan
Ice cream cone,
I WANT THAT PONY—
I MUST HAVE THAT PONY.”
And her parents said,
“Be quiet and stop nagging—
You’re not getting that pony.”
And Abigail began to cry and said,
“If I don’t get that pony I’ll die.”
And her parents said, “You won’t die.
No child ever died yet from not getting a pony.”
And Abigail felt so bad
That when she got home she went to bed,
And she couldn’t eat,
And she couldn’t sleep,
And her heart was broken,
And she DID die—
All because of a pony
That her parents wouldn’t buy.

poem by Sheldon Allan Silverstein
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I Wish I Could Go Back Home

Chorus:
I wish I could go back home
I'm so tired of living all alone
I left to sow my wilder seeds
Now look at all the pain I've grown
I wish I could go back home
It breaks my heart to see her cry
That's how I left her when I said good bye
I never meant to be so cruel
How could I have been such a fool
I got scared when love drew close
Turns out her love is what i'm needing most
Instead I'm back out on my own
Wishing I could go back home
Chorus
She waited as long as she could stand
Finally gave up and found another man
And he's getting love that once was mine
I can't believe I've been so blind
What goes around comes back they say
But I'd trade my future for one yesterday
We had a good thing now it's gone
Lord, I wish I could go back home
Chorus
We had a good thing now it's gone
Lord, I wish I could go back home

song performed by by Travis Tritt
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Be there an introspection

Parents type I:

You feed the dog;
It guards the yard.

You pay the maid;
She is your aid.

Bone and flesh,
Parents gave you.

Without their nod
You flee with a lad.

You are ungrateful;
Parents are indignant.

Parents type II:

Plants give flowers
For bees to hover.

Moon sends light
For lovers to delight.

Cow yields calf.
Calf selects the bull.

Your bone and flesh-
Out of parents’ blush.

Give bone and flesh,
With one you wish.

Your joy parents cherish.
They have no remorse.

Which parents are you-
The one demanding a return
Or the one retaining the love?
22.11099

poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Come Safe

Trace back the years, like faded scars.
Remind me that you were always there.
What I've forgotten can be learned with time.
And time is all we have.

So come home, & come safe.
You're all I've never wanted,
but needed to have to be okay.
So come home, come safely home.
Bring back what my memory's erased.

Remembering a faded smile.
Folded, tucked safely in a silver box.
You're miles away, but you're here tonight.
I'll pour over each picture until you come alive.

So come home, & come safe.
You're all I've never wanted, but needed to have to be okay.
So come home, come safely home.
When that smile hits your eyes, I know you'll stay.

Let it resonate with you, let it cover your every hole.
Let the silence fill this empty room until it becomes your homes.
Let the darkness of tonight be your guiding light,
let it drive you home.

So come home, & come safe.
You're all I've never wanted,
but needed to have to be okay.
So come home, come safely home.
One kiss goodnight, everything is alright.

So come home, & come safe.
You're all I've never wanted,
but need to have to be okay.
So come home, come safely home.
When that smile hits your eyes, I know you'll stay.

poem by Leah DeCresce
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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