The Stormy Sea
that boat was too small
for this trip to the other island
the ladies sat next to me
and they were all silent
to the sounds of the waves
just beside us and i knew
that with just one mistake,
one mistake from the boatman
that boat would have sunk
but lo, how the boatman took
the boat was kind of a very
skilled skipper of the waves
of the stormy sea like he was one
surfer in California taking sides
with each wave with so much
art and beauty carefully scaling
where safety lied and where
danger waited for an ambush
i was looking at each side
of the huge waves until
we reached Crocodile Island
of course the ladies knew that
it was no longer a joke but
a matter of a skilled boatman
making a choice between
life and death.
we chose life and the ladies and
the boatmen very well knew it.
the waves were too big for the
small boat but our silence was
even bigger. we survived.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Related quotes
On The Island Of Lilitao
THE boatman says we will be here only for a short while
why? because this island of Lilitao shall soon disappear
we are not scared we think that the boatman is just joking
and so we take time stepping upon the golden sands
pit-patted on its green blue waters
wading our bodies feeling the salt and silt in our hands
soon, a huge cloud comes, bringing with it the rain and thunder
and then it becomes dark and the boatman serious as a man with the hood
of death signaled that we must rush to the boat at once and save ourselves
for indeed the island as predicted disappeared
the sea has swallowed it, but as the boatman says,
in the next hour, it too shall spit it out.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Boat and The Sea
I will tell you, my Dear
Story of the Boat and the Sea
'Since the unknown time
The Boat heard the call from the Sea
Wings of Gull, blue waves
Took Boat traveled everywhere, all ways
The Boat's soul's filled with hopes
And the Sea's boundless love
Boat went far, further no tiresome
The Sea was still far...so far
Those nights the moon was gentle
The sea was like a girl, who's little
She whispered, she sent her thoughts
Round the boatside, waves elapsed
Sometimes, causeless
The Sea, its waves, pourred impetuously in the Boat
(Because of Love, for all times, ever was just imovable?)
Only the Boat understood
How boundless the Sea was
Only the Boat knew
Where the Boat went to, back to
The days without meeting
The sea was with white head, with missing
The days without gathering
The Boat was broken - crack
If already seperated from the Boat
The Sea only remained the wind and waves
...up and down, a craze'
If having to be separated from you
I just only remain storms
(composer: Xuân Quỳ nh, traslator: Hanh My Nguyen)
poem by Hanh My Nguyen
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On a stormy sea
When the waves of the sea
became bigger and the wind
started to blow at storm strength,
the boat didn’t sail anymore
and it rocked in the waves
bobbing up and down in the water.
The men were afraid of death
while the Christ
walked on the stormy sea between the waves,
scared to sink and afraid of drowning
and also of seeing a ghost
appearing on the water,
but His calm voice brought serenity
to the wind, waves, sea and men on the boat.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Upon The Wind And Waves
Andy tooks us down upon the keyside
To board the silver boat
Upon the Wind and Waves
And Daniel he harrelted the boat
And directed her well
Across the Wind and Waves
And Johnny took us on the boat
He held the sails, he tied the ropes
Upon the Wind and Waves
And Desiree she watched the ocean
Fair Upon the wind and Waves
song performed by by Waterboys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Upon The Wind And Waves
Andy tooks us down upon the keyside
To board the silver boat
Upon the Wind and Waves
And Daniel he harrelted the boat
And directed her well
Across the Wind and Waves
And Johnny took us on the boat
He held the sails, he tied the ropes
Upon the Wind and Waves
And Desiree she watched the ocean
Fair Upon the wind and Waves
song performed by by Waterboys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Boat on the Sea
A BOAT on the sea, my boat,
Eager and frail!
Sweet skies, smile as you look
On that fairy sail.
Waves, great waves, many years
You have worked your will.
Just while she passes through,
Kind waves, be still.
Winds—and I may not ask
That you never blow,
But spare her the moaning note
That the old boats know.
poem by Ethel Turner
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From Gordon’s bay harbour
From Gordon’s bay harbour
we took a boat
along the coast
of False Bay
and your fingers
knotted through mine
while we sailed
into the ocean.
The launch went up and down
the waves of a calm sea
although a light breeze
was blowing, throwing
drops of spray
into our faces.
Your cheeks were glowing
and your eyes
had the look of adventure
and anticipation
and we took several photographs
of the scenic mountains,
the beaches and shore.
We stopped sailing
at a island of rock
protruding from the waves
that was covered with seals,
which they called Cape sea lions.
The stench of seal dung
and rotting fish
hang heavy in the air
and the boat was rolling to and fro
as well as up and down
and you and some
of the other passengers
got really seasick
and very nauseous.
I took some more photos
trying to ignore the stench
and photographed seals,
waves braking over the rocks,
and everything
but the sea around us.
Those seals had their eyes open
unlike us
for predators like sharks
and shrieking as a saw
going through a board
while more got on those rocks
and sharks started to circle
that island and the boat
and we also felt
like something in the food chain
and were relieved
when the boat’s engine
started again
at the first try.
poem by Gert Strydom
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The Floating Assets
The Floating Assets
The boat man charged me
rupees three,
for a round trip
across the river mouth at sea
shabby and the oldest boat
with multiple cracks
supporting planks on every joints
by all means, not fit to be sea-worthy
kutcha logs connecting the sides
were the high benches for the paying boarders
safety standards were totally absent
as the waters seeped in up to knee-deep
to provide some relief or confidence
rectangular wooden posts
were enjoined to the sides of the boat
to keep it afloat and as a cushion for mishaps
yet I was the only
who kept on shivering
on the fate of the voyage
of only a stone's throw
the regular users were
crowding the vessel full
with luggage, hardware and cattles
unmindful of the boat's ability and pull
finally, leaving the shores
the boatman greeted us all
and on seeing my dead face
he had burst into laugh
and in pride, he went on to declare
that this was the boat his grandfather rowed - and
is the same…..he bequeaths for his son ! ! !
Louis Santhana
poem by Santhana Louis
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The Boatman In Boracay
the muscular boatman in pale red shirt waits
beside his boat
for a customer to be taken to the island
of desire tonight
whatever
sex.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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An Island Cave
then there is this island which we brave
even with a storm
the boat is small like a leaf
the waves bigger than houses
and we are so silent afraid in the middle of
this confusion
we arrive there with relief as we sit
on a rock mountain
and then we are called to get inside
this island cave
of glistening stalactites and stalagmites
water as clear as air and cold as ice
lapped our feet and the sound of
slush is sweet as a call of
a beautiful maiden wanting to be hugged.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Friend-Ship
My friendship is sinking,
I'm bailing out water as fast as I can,
Move too quickly the boat will tip over,
Move too slowly the faster it will sink,
Seconds away from abandoning ship,
But there's land in sight,
So close to shore,
Tying a rope to the boat,
Jumping into the water,
The water is so cold,
Pulling the boat to shore,
Moving too slowly,
Waves threatening to take the boat away,
Waves threatening to take me away,
Suddenly the shore seems so far away,
Waves fill the boat with water,
The burden of the weight of the water,
Becomes unbearable,
The rope is pulled out of my hands,
And the boat sinks,
Pulling me under,
I swim to the surface,
Swim to shore,
Once on shore I look back,
There is nothing left of the Friend-ship
poem by Mandy Author
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Friend-Ship
My friendship is sinking,
I'm bailing out water as fast as I can,
Move too quickly the boat will tip over,
Move too slowly the faster it will sink,
Seconds away from abandoning ship,
But there's land in sight,
So close to shore,
Tying a rope to the boat,
Jumping into the water,
The water is so cold,
Pulling the boat to shore,
Moving too slowly,
Waves threatening to take the boat away,
Waves threatening to take me away,
Suddenly the shore seems so far away,
Waves fill the boat with water,
The burden of the weight of the water,
Becomes unbearable,
The rope is pulled out of my hands,
And the boat sinks,
Pulling me under,
I swim to the surface,
Swim to shore,
Once on shore I look back,
There is nothing left of the Friend-ship
poem by Mandy Author2
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A Boat-ride, Surreal
there, there...down there
through a thicket of fog
beckoned a vacant boat
i fought through the fog
and reached a zone, misty
the boat pulled me as if
i were a piece of iron
i hastened through
the layers and layers...
there i was, at last
assured that it would
take me to the other bank
it wasn't to be
the gently rocking boat
began on an erratic sail
down down the stream
in its womb of deception
hid many a whirlpool
the waters jerky...
hey, what was i doing
sitting in a boat with no oars
nor knowing how to swim...!
'you're the boatman
you're the oars...
row row...
the other bank
a distant dream
row row...'
a song filled the stream...
18dec2009
0540hra
poem by Indira Babbellapati
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There Are Waves Breaking Foaming Around Me
There are waves breaking foaming around me
hitting with angry power,
while a storm is unleashed on the sea and in my life,
a boat in the distance is twisting as if it is sinking
while it is dangerously recoiling up and down
with stormy winds bashing at it,
it seems as if it is going to disappear under the swelling water
and still You are there to protect that boat and me
and today I want to make You the helmsman of my life,
I ask You to steer me safely to the harbour of rest,
I pray that You will protect me in my ways
and like that boat I am missing on a stormy sea
where only Your almighty hand
can bring me safely to land, to the other side of darkness.
poem by Gert Strydom
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The fear of death was in their eyes
The fear of death was in their eyes
waves filled the boat to their surprise.
Then through the storm a voice was heard
the encouraging voice of the Good shepherd.
He'd seen His sheep struggling with their fear
and came to comfort them and to draw near.
They heard Him speak the words 'Fear not'
and amidst the storm their fears forgot.
'If it's You Jesus' Peter said to the Lord
'Bid me come to You, I'll obey your word.'
The command to come he heard from You
Gazing into Your face Peter's faith grew.
Putting his fears to one side courageously
he stepped outside the boat onto the sea.
Then he began to think 'What have I done'
and took his eyes off of God's Only Son.
He saw the wind and waves come crashing down
and became afraid thinking he would drown.
Taking his eyes off the Lord in horror
distracted by the waves and the winds roar.
'Lord save me' Peter cried out in his fear.
Jesus reached out for He was standing near
and then lifted him back inside the boat
back into safety he was kept afloat.
Sailing this earthly sea we experience fears.
The storms of life can bring such tears.
When He calls us to step out of the boat
eyes fixed on Jesus will keep us afloat.
For our hearts of fear the Lord can transform
and by faith in Him we can face the storm.
With are eyes firmly fixed upon the Lord
we can step out of the boat obeying His word.
written after reading Matthew 14: 22-31
A Paper-boat just on the Sea!
A paper-boat, I tend to be!
The sea of life is too stormy;
Afraid I am, it could sink me,
Before I can reach land’s safety!
But if He wants, the Almighty,
Could work miracles still for me;
And guide the boat to shore safely,
And keep me dry eternally!
A paper-boat just on the sea!
How can it float for long freely?
And when the sea becomes angry,
Can it escape its cruelty?
But all the same, I move slowly;
Nothing on earth can deter me;
Unless something so cowardly,
Drenches the boat mercilessly.
A paper-boat just on the sea!
I know I must make it surely;
And when I reach the shore, may be,
I will feel immensely happy!
A paper-boat just on life’s sea!
Who else would want to be like me?
God is my guide and my safety;
In Him, I have strong faith truly!
A paper-boat just on the sea!
A paper-boat, I tend to be;
A paper-boat, I want to be-
A paper-boat just on life’s sea!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 4-26-2000
poem by John Celes
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The Greed Of The River
brown to its existence the river as usual is silent
it borrows the sound of the slashing boat and from the time to time talks
it asks. 'where to boatman? '
but the boatman does not answer
he does not know how this river works how this river feels
it has taken people away
it has taken people back to their places
it has swallowed lives
and then in silence it sleeps
its belly full
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Rocking on the Bay of Bengal
Standing on the sea-board,
I stared out to the bay
and got gripped into the fears
as the frothing waves were lashing against
the boat, arranged for our trip around.
When a strong wave was surging,
our fisher-folk lugged the boat into the sea,
and called us all to jump into it.
The sea was calm to them being tamed,
but the waves were hissing at us.
We were holding tight a rope
that moved the boat straight over the waves.
The engine at the back
gave momentum to the tiny vessel
and succor to our hope of easy sail.
We were heading towards the open sea
sailing across the thoughts of wonder.
Some sea-urchins were hovering around us
But we were warned not to touch them
as it would cause itching all over the body.
Our boat went off a place of swirls.
“If we get into it, full fathom five
we will go down and lie”-they smiled.
We pleaded them to turn back.
They stopped the engine
and the boat was rocked
on a blue expanse of water.
I felt how could I have fallen asleep
When my mother swung me in the cradle
tied at the branch of a Neem tree in our garden,
singing songs of folk and myth.
Tears welled from my eyes!
“ We would dropp anchor in the bay
and kip for a while on the boat at night
dreaming dreams of wonder and horror”,
Our fisher-folk said and brought us ashore.
poem by Rajendran Muthiah
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The Scream That I Have Seen And Cannot Forget....
we were in that boat
behind us is an erupting volcano
vomiting lava
we have to jump out
the sinking boat and there
is that man
without everything, eyes, nose, ears,
hair
teeth, except a huge mouth like
an inflated balloon
then nothing but waves
and silence....
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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This Is A Boat
this is a boat and it is in my hand
the hand is the sea
and my fingers keep it wavy
this is the boat and it is wooden
and it is loaded unevenly on its left side
and so it leans on the heavy
edge like it is a man
with a shorter left foot
and walks like the
floor is uneven
and imperfect
this is my body and it has become an ocean
and the boat sails on without the sun
my eyes the moon and stars
and they are closed
this is the darkness where the boat sails
and this is the silence
of its journey
this is my mind
and everything: the boat, the sea, the ocean
the tilting, the weight of the load,
things exist because i let them so
this is my hand and this is the sea of waves
these emotions
this is the mouth speaking
without any sense at all like a woman nude
running for life away from the atomic bomb
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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