The Divided Sea
after the flood subsides
the sea becomes divided
at the tip is deep blue
near the shore is the paleness
of the brown river
still confused
about what to do
somehow
the parting is gone
now the sea
is confident again
in peace
in the depths of its
blueness
in the joys of its
foams
as the seagulls dive
for its bountiful
fish
once again
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Related quotes
You Know How Is It To Be Blue
you know how is it to be blue
you sailed once on top and you plunged
deep down under
the rage of the river
you know how is it to be inside
a certain darkness and silence
you know how is it be just a river
this will haunt us forever
you know how is it to be inside the cave
filled with water and rage and rampage
of stone and waves
you know how is it to be a river
flowing and going away
you know how is it to be bluer than blue
and foamy and angry
you know how is it to be deep just being deep
and it is enough for me and then you go away.
let me stay on the depths of these mysteries
i like the blueness of blue, the deepening of the deep
i like it here, deep and silent, even without you.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Mouth Of The Sea
the sea this afternoon
is divided into two halves
parallel to each other
the brown part touches the shore
the one faraway is the
bluish one, deep and
silent,
once again, the mountain has reached
its destination through its river
swallowed by the mouth of the sea
into the depths of its silence
on this cycle of life
and then
unto death.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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A River Flows
Where does the river flow
if not to you?
How deep its depths
if these
are not yours?
How broad is the river bank?
Broad enough
for the tug-boats
to push my heart along.
If there are fish in the river,
they sing your name
open-mouthed,
fish-style,
making tiny bubbles float
up, up to the river surface
where they pop
spread
announcing to the Firmament
that Love lives just below
the deep river flows.
Yes, you and I
are the river;
we flow,
run deep
down to that
ocean-mix
in which
our souls
swirl.
Mix me then
in depths deep.
Mix you then
amid this ocean sweep
and all else,
for me
becomes meaningless
so great
is our Soul Mixed
Ocean Bliss.
poem by Lonnie Hicks
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A Bed On The Water
a bed floats in the middle of the river
you swim
to catch sleep
the bed is taken by the rage of the river
on a flood that rises
up to your chin
you sleep on the water
the cruel bed is gone
the rage of the river subsides
there is peace now
among the lilies
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Sea
There ain't no hell below us
Above us only sky
In front of me the deep dark
blue and boundless sea
I can hear the seagulls cry
The waves they crash upon the shore
But they keep on comin' back
How many times we've
crashed... ourselves
And we came here to recover
She keeps so many secrets
She softly whispers in my ear
The sea she comforts me
She knows just who I want to be
That's why I keep on comin'... here
You could call these after hours
Now all the tourists have gone away
All alone on a broad and empty beach
And I am asking questions why
There ain't no hell below us
Above us only sky
In front of me the deep dark
blue and boundless sea
Now the seagulls cry no more
song performed by by Shoot High Aim Low from Shoot High Aim Low
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Brown And Blue, Revised....
it is not between blue
or brown
it is of this earth
within the
coolness of blue
it is when the brown
shades of this
skin
are spread
when the blue shades of your eyes rest
upon the floor
of my belly
that my navel beats
like a tadpole in that pond
as brown and scarlet
take once more the interlinking of my earthly arms
to the blueness of your skies
it is when color
seek each other's hold
it is when when they mix
and blend
that tones and scents become
as perfect as both
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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O Cruel Sea!
No more will I go near the sea!
No more will I stand on a beach;
No more will I live near a shore;
The sea no more looks lovely!
No more will I play on its sands;
No more will I bask in its sun;
No more will I watch ships and boats;
The sea has lost its glory!
No more will I walk on the shore;
No more will I build sand-castles;
No more will I eat sea-fish foods;
The sea has lost its beauty!
No more will I go over-seas;
No more will I adore the waves;
No more will I yearn for the sea;
The sea has lost its sanctity!
No more will I deep-dive for pearls;
No more will I collect sea-shells;
No more will I dream of Blue Sea;
The sea’s a Mass-Grave, watery!
poem by John Celes
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In Our Boat
Stars trembling o'er us and sunset before us,
Mountains in shadow and forests asleep;
Down the dim river we float on forever,
Speak not, ah, breathe not - there's peace on the deep.
Come not, pale sorrow, flee till to-morrow;
Rest softly falling o'er eyelids that weep;
While down the river we float on forever,
Speak not, ah, breathe not - there's peace on the deep.
As the waves cover the depths we glide over,
So let the past in forgetfulness sleep,
While down the river we float on forever,
Speak not, ah, breathe not - there's peace on the deep.
Heaven shine above us, bless all that love us;
All whom we love in thy tenderness keep!
While down the river we float on forever,
Speak not, ah, breathe not - there's peace on the deep.
poem by Dinah Maria Mulock Craik
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The River that Slowly Rills
The Big Fish finds his lunch, and kills
In the river that slowly rills
The victim, caught up in the flood
First of water, now of blood
Death comes to him in blowing chills
While the river slowly rills
We see the blue is mixed with red
The prey surely now is dead
The carnivore has shown his skills
While the river slowly rills
The day has only just begun
Once of two fish, now of one
A strange home for slaught'ring gills
The river that slowly, slowly rills
poem by Bobby Crawford
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A Beautiful Day (2)
no rain
dews have dried up
no ripples from the pond
air still
leaves are glossing
to the sun
sky is clear
fogs gone
the window opens
to the garden
of daffodils
the sea is silky blue
no foams
seagulls fly to the north
boats sail to
deep oceans
the ants gather
morsels
and the grasshoppers
and crickets
join in the singing
welcome a brighter new day
for the darkness is gone
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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To The River
They are master and slave
We are sunlight and shadow
All roads to the river
I am lost. I am saved
Im beloved and betrayed
All roads to the river
Chorus:
And the river runs wide
And the river runs deep
And I spit in the eye
Of safe company
When I dive right down
To the undertow
Well, the deeper I drown
Lord, the higher Ill go
I am whispering dreams
I am howling revolutions
All roads to the river
I am valentine sweet
And I live in this nightmare
All roads to the river
Chorus:
And the river runs wide
The river runs deep
And I spit in the eye
Of safe company
When I dive right down
To the undertow
Well, the deeper I drown
Lord, the higher Ill go
This is nothing like we planned
Thats the way its always been
All roads to the river
I have hated and I have loved
I have prayed and I have sinned
All roads to the river
Chorus:
And the river runs wide
The river runs deep
And I spit in the eye
Of safe company
When I dive right down
To the undertow
Well, the deeper I drown
Lord, the higher Ill go
song performed by by John Mellencamp
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Metaphor For Myself.....
early afternoon
i undress and walk towards the water
it is a gray moment
i wade into the water
it is clear
and i can see some fish and
sand at the bottom
i am alone
it is too peaceful away
from everyone
the water is lukewarm
derived from noon
and the shore is too private
to myself
the trees are still and the cottage
has an eye
staring at me from afar
i swim farther, into the depths
floating
there are no seagulls
a ship with a smoke shears the
far horizon
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Peace River
The Peace River creeps along
From its start in the sand it calls home
That sometimes takes up more below
Than it adds to the flow.
The groove cut deep in ages past
Into the lime-rock's cast
Remains a testament to the way
That Nature refreshes, then takes away.
Sometimes a wild river that knows no bounds
Later just a few scattered ponds
Harboring life which one day
Will again spread when the River has its say.
Once a road for paddlewheel boats
That carried goods up-river to folks
When loaded with coal and necessities
From mines and far away cities.
Then down river the boats did ply
Phosphate ore that man might buy
As an ingredient to benefit all,
Something to makes crops grow tall.
But now the Peace River's flow
Has been claimed by those below
Who've built along Gulf's shore,
And thirst for water, even more.
There are solutions, few
When Winter's drought begins anew
When fish and man alike must find
A place of another kind.
Yet the river lies quiet and waits
For the Summer rains that will create
Again the flood as in times past
When the water moves deep and fast.
The Peace River originates in an area known as the 'Green Swamp, ' a vast mostly unpopulated area of central Florida lying between Tampa and Orlando. The sandy soil (if soil it can be considered to be) accepts summer rainfall while giving up the excess to runoff, and uses the remainder to recharge the shallow limestone/sand aquifer. In the dry season of the year, the aquifer gives up a portion of its burden through springs and seeps to rivers flowing East (Orlando) , West (Tampa) , North (Jacksonville) and South (Charlotte bay) . Southwest Water Management District (Called Swift Mud) will try to 'harness' the Peace river and control its flow. But there's much about the river that they seem not to know (or want to learn) .
poem by Sidi J. Mahtrow
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Blue Sky?
Blue sky yesterday
Grey today
Did the blue sky
Go away?
What is blue
And sunny too?
The blue sky
Hiding behind the grey.
Grey today
But with blue sky
Waiting to come out
And play.
The sun is laughing
At my blueness
Blue sky with its greyness
Never meant for sadness.
Blue sky here today
But with a greyness
Covering all the blueness
This is what I want to say.
poem by David Taylor
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The Great Dive
they were talking about the dive
the older woman who talked about it before
had already been duly rewarded
oh, she was grasping for breath
she almost died
people always love to talk about grasping
for breath
a situation where one almost dies
hands grappling for anything be it a shadow
of a coral or even a yellow finned fish
some however do not help one to rise and live
but they bite and make you bleed
inspiring the sharks
we all undergo this great dive
into the dark blue depths
into the blackness that we have never been too
but we have the feeling
we know
honestly i have been there
i am not rewarded at all
i do not expect anything anyway
and i personally do not want to talk about it
never.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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My Love For You Is A River
My love for you is like a river
You can not tell how deep it is just by looking
You have to jump in and dive down deep
Even then you will never know
My love for you is like a river
You can not tell how strong it is just by looking
You have to ride the rapids and fall with the water falls
Even then you will never know
My love for you is like a river
You can not tell how far it flows just by looking
You have to travel with it to its end
Even then you will never know
Because this river has no end
It empties into an eternal sea
that goes on till the end of time
My love for you is this river
poem by Jamey Einrem
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The Merri In Flood
The old Merri River in flood waters of brown
Is flowing on bank high on by Warrnambool Town
In and out of Lake Pertobe on it's sea going way
To join the Pacific at famed Lady Bay
The old river that is old even in time
That has inspired the poets and songwriters to rhyme
In the age of the dinosaurs the Merri was old
In full flood the river a sight to behold
In Summer by the banks of the river in the shade of the trees
The Indigenous tribes had their corroborees
Like the Seasons of Nature the people come and go
But the river on down through the flat country flow
In and out of Lake Pertobe and on to the sea
The Merri in flood is a great sight to see.
poem by Francis Duggan
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I Am A Fish!
I dream of sea
deep beautiful blue sea
I am a fish, a colorful fish
that's what I wish
I dream of water
dancing with the waves
to be a colorful fish
that's my wish!
I dream of wind
touching softly the sea
taking me, the colorful fish
deep deep under the sea!
I dream of love
you being a fish like me
that is all what I wish, dear sea
to be a fish, happy and free!
poem by Arta Krasniqi
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That Quick Little Brown Dog
that quick little brown dog
jumps over the fence
near the bank of the river,
it is not your dog,
but you happen to be there when it
jumped,
over the fence near the bank of the river
into the river
that deep river with a overrunning
of the water
the dog was struggling to swim back
to the safety of the bank
but it failed and the dog was taken away
by the river and
it was gone,
you wonder why until now you think about that
dead dog
it is not yours but it sticks to your mind
as though it is yours
somehow you think as though you own it
and that you feel so painful about such loss
and you cannot sleep
and then you dream about that quick little brown dog
that drowned
it is barking so hard trying to be alive again
you wake up
with lots of cold sweat
somehow you think again
inside that dream
the face of the quick little brown dog
that jumped over the fence
into the deep river
is yours.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Dead Fish Speaking For İtself
the best evidence
of that dead fish
is its body bloating
and stinking
floating on the
murky river
the rage of the river
tries to report the sad story
to the deep
blue sea
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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