Hedgehog
I remember the days when I was in port of Salalah,
Sultanate of Oman.
I was working in Port controllers building a mountain top.
It's really interesting, you crawled in the midnight and I offered you a bowl of rice,
in gratitude you left me a spine.
Still I am holding that curious gift.
You too a Mammal and that may be the reason
why you attached to me so much.
If I build a house one day (my endless dream)
definitely I name it as 'Hedgehog'.
dedication to poet kojo Owusu
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Krishna Rajan; My Friend's Daughter in Kerala, India
Somarajan!
We worked together in port of Salalah
Sultanate of Oman.
Still he works there
And I am here.
Krishna; His daughter's going to marry in August.
O the small girl who contributed the cover illustration for my poetry anthology.(Translation of Isikawa's Sad Toys)
Happy to hear your wedding, daughter I wish you all the best!
Your Dad is a good friend of mine that you know
And I hope his dreams come true soon.
He's my computer 'Guru' and unless his guidance
I could have never come to a poetry site?
Not only that he introduced me an Indian Rum
'Old Monk'. O still I feel that smooth hangover.
There is a vast distance in between Pacific and Indian Ocean.
On that auspicious day perhaps a guest in your proximity
Who visits there without an invitation on behalf of me.
I am sure you all give him a friendly smile.
Enjoy the life though it's not a silk road!
(A humble dedication to Somarajan in gratitude.)
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Port Adelaide
It is the great City of Port Adelaide
Where heroes are born and legends are made
In the Australian Football League they have their own football team
For to play for Port Adelaide many Port teens do dream.
A place where Indigenous and white Australia meet
And different races live on every street
The Indigenous tribes had their corroborees long ago
By the trees near the banks where the Port waters flow.
Many nineteenth century buildings in Port Adelaide remain
Which one does suppose goes in part to explain
Why so many visitors come to that Town
Port's history is far more than football renown.
The Port river dolphins are famed far and wide
One can see them surface from the harbour side
A tourist attraction and it would be fair to say
That seeing them has made many a vistor's day.
Where the cultures meet Indigenous and European
Port Adelaide a Town where all races are seen
When in South Australia I feel at home there
Few Towns with Port Adelaide can hope to compare.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Down the Memory lane
You're a learned soul that I admire at all,
In my school days I had a pen-friend a girl from Sarawak, Malaysia
Her name is Punithawathy an Indian origin if I am not mistaken and when I came to Sarawak once on a ship.
I was forty then, little aggressive
I want to see her but I have lost her address.
So no more, life's a dream day by day soulship reaches to the place called 'Anchorage' close to a certain Port,
And then you dropp your Anchor and lay up!
No voyages hereafter!
* To the poet Rahul Aithal in gratitude!
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Eavan's Grandma
She feared the women
at the port when her
husband's ship docked
there the port.
She went to the port
to see her husband
each time he arrived
I like the man
and the wife.
'Aren't they
the same kind of girls
anyway? ' he thinks,
she doesn't know it.
(Oct.5,1997)
poem by Sangnam Nam
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USS Zydecoldsmobile
You can feel the horses under the hood
Through thick and thin pull us out of the wood
She's the smoothest ride, yeah, you'll ever feel
She's the Delta slide of automobiles
Double clutchin' on the backseat
I hear you, yeah, with your main squeeze
Playing triple row accordian fills
In the USS ZydecOldsmobile
Port of Call Opelousas
Port of Call Lawtell
Port of Call Frilot Cove
In the USS ZydecOldsmobile
Mardi Gras run block the road
Park the car and join the show
Get up on the trunk and dance at will
Aboard the USS ZydecOldsmobile
Port of Call Opelousas
Port of Call Lawtell
Port of Call Frilot Cove
In the USS ZydecOldsmobile
Yeah, Spirit moves through everyone
We have faith and we have fun
God bless the turning wheel
Of my USS ZydecOldsmobile
Port of Call Opelousas
Port of Call Lawtell
Port of Call Frilot Cove
In the USS ZydecOldsmobile
Come ride with me in my ZydecOldsmobile
Double clutchin' with me in my ZydecOldsmobile
Hip shakin' with me in my ZydecOldsmobile
Come ride with me in my ZydecOldsmobile
song performed by by Jimmy Buffett
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Bonny Port of Sydney
The lovely Port of Sydney
Lies laughing to the sky,
The bonny Port of Sydney,
Where the ships of nations lie.
You shall never see such beauty,
Though you sail the wide world o’er,
As the sunny Port of Sydney,
As we see it from the Shore.
The shades of night are falling
On many ports of call,
But the harbour lights of Sydney
Are the grandest of them all;
Such a city set in jewels
Has ne’er been seen before
As the harbour lights of Sydney
As we see them from the Shore.
I must sail for gloomy London,
Where there are no harbour lights,
Where no sun is seen in winter,
And there are no starry nights;
And the bonny port of Sydney—
I may never see it more,
But I’ll always dream about it
As we view it from North Shore.
poem by Henry Lawson
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House of fire (Lyrics)
House of fire
House of fire, yeah
Let's build a house of fire, baby
Not one of wood or stone
Walk thru my door of desire, baby
Come on in and make it your home
Don't need a window to watch you, baby
Don't need no roof overhead
Don't need no key to unlock ya, baby
I'll use my lovin'instead
I won't tire
Take me higher
Building a house of fire, baby
Buildin'it with our love
We are buildin'a house of fire every time we touch
House of fire
House of fire
We ain't gotta pay rent now, baby
No landlord to throw us out
I want to play in your garden, baby
When you want it give me a shout
I won't tire
Take me higher
Building a house of fire, baby
Buildin'it with our love
We are building a house of fire every time we touch
We are building this house together, baby
Standing on solid ground
We are building a house of fire
That you can't tear down
Brick by brick the flames get higher
Build it strong with our desire
Building a house of fire, baby
Building it with our love
We are building a house of fire every time we touch
We are building this house together, baby
Standing on solid ground
We are building a house of fire
That you can't tear down
Building a house of fire, baby
Building it with our love
We are building a house of fire every time we touch
poem by Satan's Sibling
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Midnight Dream
I'm sittin' on a mountain
Searchin' for an answer
Hopin' there's a chance
That she'll be comin' back to me
Midnight dream
I'm waitin' on the mountain
Thinkin' I can find her
Maybe if I find her,
Here is where she'll want to be
Midnight dream
I made my way down to Mexico
I spend a year travelin' 'cross the ocean
Without goin' anywhere
A hundred miles to the nearest phone
A thousand miles from a place called home
And all alone in my despair
I'd call you there
My midnight dream
So I'm sittin' on a mountain
Lookin' 'cross a river
Needin' to be with her
More than I believed I'd be
Midnight dream
I'm sittin' all alone now
Knowin' what I know now
Thought I'd be a teacher
But she would end up teachin' me
Midnight dream
I know that I lost my way one night
But if you ask me
It don't seem right
To spend my life without you there
And so I climbed to the highest peak
Just hopin' somehow that I what I seek
Will somehow speak and you'll appear
My midnight dream
Where are you, don't let go
So I'm sittin' on a mountain
How can I explain it
I'm livin' with the pain of thinkin' how it
Still could be
Midnight dream
Love is what I'm thinkin'
No two ways about it
Go too long without it,
Nothing really means a thing
Midnight dream
But if you haven't decided yet
Might be the only chance we get
Let's don't forget 'bout you and me
I finally ended where I began
You see before you
The sorry soul, the lonely man
I've come to be
Please come to me
My midnight dream
Oh come to me
My midnight dream
song performed by by Neil Diamond
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Her Own Departure
Her own departure is a show.
a big bag hanging on her
shoulders, her left hand
holding a coin purse,
her right crumpling a
white handkerchief wet
with her tears.
she is crying. Her blue
blouse fits her fat and her
black pants are loose
like two shirts.
She wears her white rubber
shoes, sort of telling me
that she will be running
towards the place
that she will be hiding
for days.Or just towards
the airport. Or bus station
or port.
I don't really care.
She takes the ATM
with her, and the credit cards.
She does not tell me
where she is going.
She gives the hint that
it will be far away from
this cold house.
I am staying. I am glued
to this house.
I am silent and peaceful
now. I still have many things
to think and write.
My first poem after she leaves
shall be titled, 'Good riddance! '
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Norfolk Pine Of Port Fairy
'Tis said they grow more than a metre each year
And they do seem to have grown since I was last here
The Norfolk Island pine of Port fairy they tower over all
Beside them most other trees look rather small.
Though not quite as tall as the mountain ash tree
They seem to grow well in the Towns by the sea
On either side of the streets by Griffith Island tall and evergreen
These beautiful trees in their dozens are seen.
As a feature of the Town in the Coastal Countryside
The norfolk pine of Port Fairy have become known far and wide
They do look quite graceful for want of a better name
And without them Port Fairy would not look the same.
A feature of Port Fairy for visitors to recall
The evergreen norfolk pine trees stand graceful and tall
Nature's beauty at her finest for Nature lovers to see
On either side of the streets that lead down to the sea.
poem by Francis Duggan
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In 2003, this House voted to kill a Democratic amendment to add $250 million for port security grants; then again, in 2005, against a Democratic proposal calling for an additional $400 million in funding for port security.
quote by Russ Carnahan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Port Burwell
About a quarter of a century ago, when Port Burwell was a
busy, thriving place, several friends accompanied me to
the port to attend a concert, we all being specially invited.
It was in the winter, and there had been a race on the
ice, in which the Port Burwell horse took the lead. We
gave a local piece of some length, but only retain now a
few lines. The people at the concert were highly pleased
with the effusion.
In winter time, who here resort
To pay a visit to your famous port,
They must be clad in fur well,
For it blows cold at Burwell.
But when you wish to trot your horse
You make lake Erie your race course,
And we believe at every heat
All other horses you do beat.
poem by James McIntyre
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10/31/2007 Command Post Controller
I work in the command post,
You wouldn’t know there everywhere from coast to coast.
We work while everyone else is wake and sleeping,
We do things that help our nations safe keeping.
No one understands the command post because,
No one fully grasps what the command post does.
Know this though,
Controllers are at work even in the snow.
Holidays we are still here,
24-7 every day of the year.
I work in the command post,
Family I miss the most.
But I don’t gripe nor complain,
I’m proud to serve I have no shame.
Next time your working your nine to five,
Remember controllers actions help keep you alive.
When you lay your head down and asleep you drift,
Remember a command post controller is still on shift.
poem by Coreena Dejesus
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Beautiful Port Fairy
The air is so clean of pollution 'tis free
In Port Fairy the beautiful Town by the sea
With little development it's old charm it retain
You visit it once you will come back again.
They have a huge music festival there once a year
And to it music lovers come from far and near
Musicians from every Land entertain on every street
For three days Port Fairy the place where all cultures do meet.
From Britain and Ireland and Italy and France
The lovers of culture they sing and they dance
Musicians from Africa, Germany, Brazil and Spain
Arrive for the big weekend come sunshine or rain.
Of beautiful Port Fairy 'twould be fair to say
That Utopia from it cannot be far away
It's beautiful beaches the clean ocean air
So few places with it can hope to compare.
The Norfolk pine trees there five or six decades old
One might say a beautiful sight to behold
Just part of Port Fairy's charm and it does seem to me
That Utopia is near to this Town by the sea.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Glee -- The Ghosts
In life three ghostly friars were we,
And now three friarly ghosts we be.
Around our shadowy table placed,
The spectral bowl before us floats:
With wine that none but ghosts can taste,
We wash our unsubstantial throats.
Three merry ghosts--three merry ghosts--
three merry ghosts are we:
Let the ocean be Port, and we'll think it good sport
To be laid in that Red Sea.
With songs that jovial spectres chaunt,
Our old refectory still we haunt.
The traveller hears our midnight mirth:
"O list!" he cries, "the haunted choir!
"The merriest ghost that walks the earth, "
"Is sure the ghost of a ghostly friar."
Three merry ghosts--three merry ghosts--
three merry ghosts are we:
Let the ocean be Port, and we'll think it good sport
To be laid in that Red Sea.
poem by Thomas Love Peacock
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Now Finale To The Shore
NOW finale to the shore!
Now, land and life, finale, and farewell!
Now Voyager depart! (much, much for thee is yet in store;)
Often enough hast thou adventur'd o'er the seas,
Cautiously cruising, studying the charts,
Duly again to port, and hawser's tie, returning:
--But now obey, thy cherish'd, secret wish,
Embrace thy friends--leave all in order;
To port, and hawser's tie, no more returning,
Depart upon thy endless cruise, old Sailor! 10
poem by Walt Whitman
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In South Texas, we understand how vital port security is and we fear the day a weapon of mass destruction could be brought into a U.S. port in a container and cause hundreds of thousands of casualties.
quote by Solomon Ortiz
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I represent the Port of Philadelphia, and I know firsthand the important role that ports play in the national and global economy. I have also seen how simple accidents can have devastating impacts on the port system.
quote by Allyson Schwartz
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Hedgehog
The snail moves like a
Hovercraft, held up by a
Rubber cushion of itself,
Sharing its secret
With the hedgehog. The hedgehog
Shares its secret with no one.
We say, Hedgehog, come out
Of yourself and we will love you.
We mean no harm. We want
Only to listen to what
You have to say. We want
Your answers to our questions.
The hedgehog gives nothing
Away, keeping itself to itself.
We wonder what a hedgehog
Has to hide, why it so distrusts.
We forget the god
under this crown of thorns.
We forget that never again
will a god trust in the world.
from 'Poems 1968-1998'
poem by Paul Muldoon
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Port Albert
The silver gulls mewing in the Village, the fishing boats moored to the pier
The gentle waves break at the jetty in fancy these scenes to me near
The last time I was in Port Albert the black and white bird known as pee wee
He piped in the afternoon sunshine on a flowering pittosporum tree.
Port Albert in Southern Gippsland doesn't change with the passing of time
A fishing Village by salt water the bards by it inspired to rhyme
The artists have captured it's beauty on canvas for to hang on the gallery wall
And all of those who have paid it a visit the memory feel glad to recall
The last time I was in Port Albert in September in early Spring
On a day of bird song and sunshine that memory to me seem to cling
A warm wind blew in from the ocean it was such a marvellous day
A gift from the Goddess of Nature to me for to carry away
From the fishing Village of Port Albert that developers yet have to find
The Utopia of Southern Gippsland are words for it that spring to mind
In the old cafe in the Village we enjoyed cappucino and cake
And I will re-visit Port Albert if only just for old time sake.
The silver gulls mewing on the jetty, the sun shining bright in the sky
As we drove on out of the Village this time it would not be goodbye
For I will return in September in the early days of the Spring
When magpie will pipe on the gum tree and blackbird will whistle and sing
poem by Francis Duggan
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