Boats In A Fog
Sports and gallantries, the stage, the arts, the antics of dancers,
The exuberant voices of music,
Have charm for children but lack nobility; it is bitter earnestness
That makes beauty; the mind
Knows, grown adult.
A sudden fog-drift muffled the ocean,
A throbbing of engines moved in it,
At length, a stone's throw out, between the rocks and the vapor,
One by one moved shadows
Out of the mystery, shadows, fishing-boats, trailing each other
Following the cliff for guidance,
Holding a difficult path between the peril of the sea-fog
And the foam on the shore granite.
One by one, trailing their leader, six crept by me,
Out of the vapor and into it,
The throb of their engines subdued by the fog, patient and
cautious,
Coasting all round the peninsula
Back to the buoys in Monterey harbor. A flight of pelicans
Is nothing lovelier to look at;
The flight of the planets is nothing nobler; all the arts lose virtue
Against the essential reality
Of creatures going about their business among the equally
Earnest elements of nature.
poem by Robinson Jeffers
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Related quotes
When the Fishing Boats Go Out
When the lucent skies of morning flush with dawning rose once more,
And waves of golden glory break adown the sunrise shore,
And o'er the arch of heaven pied films of vapor float.
There's joyance and there's freedom when the fishing boats go out.
The wind is blowing freshly up from far, uncharted caves,
And sending sparkling kisses o'er the brows of virgin waves,
While routed dawn-mists shiveroh, far and fast they flee,
Pierced by the shafts of sunrise athwart the merry sea!
Behind us, fair, light-smitten hills in dappled splendor lie,
Before us the wide ocean runs to meet the limpid sky
Our hearts are full of poignant life, and care has fled afar
As sweeps the white-winged fishing fleet across the harbor bar.
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The sea is calling to us in a blithesome voice and free,
There's keenest rapture on its breast and boundless liberty!
Each man is master of his craft, its gleaming sails out-blown,
And far behind him on the shore a home he calls his own.
Salt is the breath of ocean slopes and fresher blows the breeze,
And swifter still each bounding keel cuts through the combing seas,
Athwart our masts the shadows of the dipping sea-gulls float,
And all the water-world's alive when the fishing boats go out.
poem by Lucy Maud Montgomery
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Cool The Engines
Now I like takin off
Dont like burnin out
Every time you turn it on
Makes me want to shout
We keep getting hotter
Movin way too fast
If we dont slow this fire down
Were not gonna last
Cool the engines
Red lines gettin near
Cool the engines
Better take it out of gear
Im no fool
Im gonna keep it cool
And take it day by day
We wont know where we might go
till we take it all the way
Take me for a ride
Take me all the way
Take me where Ive never been
Someplace I can stay
Dont get yourself too hot
Dont get yourself too high
If we dont take it easy now
We can kiss it all goodbye
Cool the engines
Slow this rocket down
Cool the engines
Why dont ya take a look around
Im no fool, gonna keep it cool
Take it day by day
We wont know where we might go
till we take it all the way
Cool the engines
Cool the engines
Goin over the line
Goin off the dial
Runnin out of time
And its gettin wild
Got flashin lights
Goin round and round
Until we get it right
Better cool it down
Better cool it down.
Cool the engines.
And now were on our way
No need to hurry just to get from day to day
And i, oooh, I know
We dont have to run that hard to get where we can go.
Cool the engines.
Cool the engines down.
Cool the engines.
Cool the engines down.
(scholz, sheehan)
song performed by by Boston
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sunrise Along Shore
Athwart the harbor lingers yet
The ashen gleam of breaking day,
And where the guardian cliffs are set
The noiseless shadows steal away;
But all the winnowed eastern sky
Is flushed with many a tender hue,
And spears of light are smiting through
The ranks where huddled sea-mists fly.
Across the ocean, wan and gray,
Gay fleets of golden ripples come,
For at the birth-hour of the day
The roistering, wayward winds are dumb.
The rocks that stretch to meet the tide
Are smitten with a ruddy glow,
And faint reflections come and go
Where fishing boats at anchor ride.
All life leaps out to greet the light --
The shining sea-gulls dive and soar,
The swallows whirl in dizzy flight,
And sandpeeps flit along the shore.
From every purple landward hill
The banners of the morning fly,
But on the headlands, dim and high,
The fishing hamlets slumber still.
One boat alone beyond the bar
Is sailing outward blithe and free,
To carry sturdy hearts afar
Across those wastes of sparkling sea;
Staunchly to seek what may be won
From out the treasures of the deep,
To toil for those at home who sleep
And be the first to greet the sun.
poem by Lucy Maud Montgomery
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Niggers Leap, New England
The eastward spurs tip backward from the sun.
Nights runs an obscure tide round cape and bay
and beats with boats of cloud up from the sea
against this sheer and limelit granite head.
Swallow the spine of range; be dark. O lonely air.
Make a cold quilt across the bone and skull
that screamed falling in flesh from the lipped cliff
and then were silent, waiting for the flies.
Here is the symbol, and climbing dark
a time for synthesis. Night buoys no warning
over the rocks that wait our keels; no bells
sound for the mariners. Now must we measure
our days by nights, our tropics by their poles,
love by its end and all our speech by silence.
See in the gulfs, how small the light of home.
Did we not know their blood channelled our rivers,
and the black dust our crops ate was their dust?
O all men are one man at last. We should have known
the night that tidied up the cliffs and hid them
had the same question on its tongue for us.
And there they lie that were ourselves writ strange.
Never from earth again the coolamon
or thin black children dancing like the shadows
of saplings in the wind. Night lips the harsh
scarp of the tableland and cools its granite.
Night floods us suddenly as history
that has sunk many islands in its good time.
poem by Judith Wright
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Temporary
It comes across as a vapor-
Its tenative and ephemeral and slight-
Its the reflection and absolute detection...
Of ones true spirit when exposed to: The Light;
'Tis ones true nature and character-
As oft' influenced by spleen and bitter bile-
Its the Green Monster-jealousy and envy-
Its the absolute truth when in denial;
It comes across as a vapor-
Its tenative and ephemeral and slight-
Its the reflection and absolute detection-
Of ones true spirit when exposed to: The Light;
Its what happens when you give of yourself...!
And are broken hearted only to find...
That the one that you held in such high esteem...
Is in reality-just a vapor-filled to its mist with unkind;
poem by Theodora Onken
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Safe Harbour
As the light starts to fade, at the end of the day,
And the last rays of sunset cascade on the bay.
The fishing boats set sail, their little lamps a glow,
Off to deeper waters and the school of fish below.
Along the granite, harbor wall, the lime washed cottage stands,
The little wind swept coastal path to the causeway and sands.
At the point a lighthouse giving out its light,
Protecting the wayward mariner as he sails on through the night.
For generations have come and gone, it’s always been that way,
As tide rolls in with the fishing boats that signals break of day.
poem by Nicholas Windle
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The Nature Poet
Out there in the great ocean the wild waves toss and roll
The music of saltwater is in the poet's soul
She sits upon the high cliff that overlooks the sea
The beauty in words she captures keeps on eluding me.
She does not write for love of money nor she does not write for fame
She lives a quiet existence and her's is not a well known name
She writes of the four Seasons that ever come and go
A woman who loves Nature and of Nature's ways she know.
Some of those who think they know her say she is rather strange
Her moods are like the Seasons her moods are prone to change
But she is close to Nature and how could they understand
Her anger at human damage to the ocean and the land.
With folded wings into the mighty ocean from the sky the gannets dive
And her wonderment at the ways of Nature's creatures it once more comes alive
And she writes about the gannets as she sits on the cliff above the shore
And her beautiful words inspired by Nature's beauty will live on forever more.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Escape
As I lose myself inside of a world of my own-
Perhaps a shadow would pass me by,
Or maybe a fawn would wade in the creek
Along side of the path I walk-
I fear other people, this world’s intruders.
I would break away from reality if only
There was a point of no return and escape towards
A place where I can look down
Upon this path I have walked before-
Far away from all of the people who slight, follow and wish me harm-
Evergreens and maple trees-
Wild rabbits, squirrels and wild geese roam about-
These are the ones I call my true friends-
I would dance in the sky if I could-
Lost inside of a world behind the clouds, as
The sun behind me is casting shadows
Upon the path that I am now walking
Shadows that shall transform to dreams-
Dreams of an eternal life inside this world of my own-
Listen- can you hear the calling of the wild?
Listen- can you hear the gentle breeze rustling the leaves within
The litheness of nature surrounding me?
Listen- can you hear the sound of my heart beating amorously as
My own shadow disappears behind myriads of towering oak trees?
Rain could begin to fall and
A storm could approach and now I can say in all honesty it would not matter-
My mind has finally locked the door to reality and I have tossed the key
To the rapids rushing up the creek beside me-I have finally escaped.
If thousands of people were to approach and cross the path upon which I make my way-
I have lost touch with all that is real and in flight of the imagination
There is no turning back- even if it is only with in a dream;
Nobody needs war, cacophony and disaster,
If one can be in union with nature and fantasy that can be found in
One’s own back yard and a gust of wind can carry away that key to the door of
Pain and misfortune. Follow the shadows cast by the sun, and
Never look back, as this world inside of your dreams could last for an eternity…
poem by Claudia Krizay
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The Weight of Poetry
Poetry is core of arts
It’s not strange!
Not knowing that poetry is core of all arts
It’s not strange as well!
The many who don’t know that poetry is core of all arts
It’s not a strange at all!
Although the poets usually make foes against vulgarity
A city makes the poets wandering on the streets
Should utterly lack of the manner and style
A society brings the resentment to the poets
Should fully lack of consciousness
Solitude is the major topic in life
Solitude is poetry
Lack of poetry, art is a form of imitation
Lack of poetry, power is a presumptuous mediocrity
Lack of poetry, fortune is a wealthy poverty
Lack of poetry, love is a superficial organ
The extreme of love- solitude
The extreme of wealth- solitude
The extreme of power – solitude
The extreme of art- solitude
The extreme of climax - solitude
The extreme of world - solitude
The extreme of planets- solitude
Those who have never explored loneliness
Can write down the weight of poetry?
poem by DePen Chang
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And as part of my activity there, he had indicated he wanted me to work with him on that and conduct the various technical tests. And so a few months later I moved from Southern California up to the Monterey Peninsula where I still live today.
quote by John Sexton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Creature Of The Wheel
Creature of the wheel trigger wicked way
Tangle like a web beneath me!
Ankle-deep in hell through another way
Crucify the sky above me!
[above me! above me! above me! above me! above me! above me! above me!]
New God kill machine and man
Say lord of the engines - yeah!
[pocket full of dirt frozen in my hands
Hold on to the nameless God - yeah!
Breathe into the deep and dying light of day
Overdose on bloody wings, yeah...]
Splinter in the skin turn your eyes away -
Sick and swaggering beneath me! [beneath me!]
Revolution mind ye of little faith
Rusty and dull -- cut me! [cut me! cut me! cut me! cut me! cut me! cut me! cut me! cut me!
New God kill machine and man
Say lord of the engines - yeah!
(creature of the wheel [no!!!] lord of the infernal engines
Creature of the wheel [no!!!] lord of the infernal engines)
[new god, new god, new god, new god, new god, new god, new god, new god,]
New God kill machine and man
Say lord of the engines - yeah!
(and o brothers and sisters, I ask you to look at him.
Does he have the marks? do you see them? [no!!]
And o brothers and sisters, I ask you to look at him.
Does he have the marks? do you see them? [no!!])
[demon-paper clowns stitched across my back
Easygoing dead black eyes, yeah
Microscopic giants on a chicken-run
Everybody dies laughing!]
Thrust into the drag on the edge and wait
Motivate the one inside you [inside you]
Bastard kicker burn blow the ash away
Heldorado gonna get you!
[get you! get you! get you! get you! get you! get you! get you! get you!]
(creatures of the wheel [no!!]
Do we need the creatures of the wheel? [no!!]
Lord of the infernal engines)
song performed by by White Zombie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Farewell, Life! My Senses Swim
Farewell, Life! My senses swim,
And the world is growing dim;
Thronging shadows cloud the light,
Like the advent of the night,—
Colder, colder, colder still,
Upward steals a vapor chill—
Strong the earthy odor grows—
I smell the mould above the rose!
Welcome, Life! the Spirit strives!
Strength returns, and hope revives;
Cloudy fears and shapes forlorn
Fly like shadows at the morn,—
O'er the earth there comes a bloom—
Sunny light for sullen gloom,
Warm perfume for vapor cold—
I smell the rose above the mould!
poem by Thomas Hood
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If I Had Not Moved To Knock
If I had not moved to knock,
On the door of opportunity...
We would not have come to recognize,
Similarities that have become familiarized.
If I had not moved to knock.
If I had not moved to knock,
Or stopped because of overwhelming insecurity...
The me you've grown to know,
Would be ignored on the street.
With other faces that go unnamed.
If I had not moved to knock.
But something inside my heart,
Pushed me beyond my own limitation.
I dared to know what was on the other side,
Of a fantasized reality...
I needed to witness and touched.
And if I had not moved to knock,
You and I would not have been possible.
Or any other imagery realized.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Two Little Shadows
I saw a young mother
With eyes full of laughter
And two little shadows
Came following after.
Wherever she moved,
They were always right there
Holding onto her skirts,
Hanging onto her chair.
Before her, behind her -
An adhesive pair.
'Don't you ever get weary
As, day after day,
your two little tagalongs
Get in your way? '
She smiled as she shook
Her pretty young head,
And I'll always remember
The words that she said.
'It's good to have shadows
That run when you run,
That laugh when you're happy
And hum when you hum -
For you only have shadows
When your life's filled with sun.'
Fragments Supposed To Be Parts Of Otho
I.
Those whom nor power, nor lying faith, nor toil,
Nor custom, queen of many slaves, makes blind,
Have ever grieved that man should be the spoil
Of his own weakness, and with earnest mind
Fed hopes of its redemption; these recur
Chastened by deathful victory now, and find
Foundations in this foulest age, and stir
Me whom they cheer to be their minister.
II.
Dark is the realm of grief: but human things
Those may not know who cannot weep for them.
...
III.
Once more descend
The shadows of my soul upon mankind,
For to those hearts with which they never blend,
Thoughts are but shadows which the flashing mind
From the swift clouds which track its flight of fire,
Casts on the gloomy world it leaves behind.
...
poem by Percy Bysshe Shelley
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Vapor Trails
Stratospheric traces of our transitroy flight
trails of condensation held
in narrow bands of white
the sin is turning black
the world is turning grey
all the starts fade from the night
the oceans drain away
Horizon to horizon
memory written on the wind
fading away, like an hourglass, grain by grain
swept away like voices in a hurrican
In a vapor trail
atmospheric phases make the transitory last
vaporize the momories that freeze the fading past
silence all the songbirds
stilled by the killing frost
forest burn to ashes
everything is lost
washed away like foortprints in the rain
In a vapor trail
song performed by by Rush
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Birds Of Passage
Black shadows fall
From the lindens tall,
That lift aloft their massive wall
Against the southern sky;
And from the realms
Of the shadowy elms
A tide-like darkness overwhelm
The fields that round us lie.
But the night is fair,
And everywhere
A warm, soft vapor fills the air,
And distant sounds seem near;
And above, in the light
Of the star-lit night,
Swift birds of passage wing their flight
Through the dewy atmosphere.
I hear the beat
Of their pinions fleet,
As from the land of snow and sleet
They seek a southern lea.
I hear the cry
Of their voices high
Falling dreamily through the sky,
But their forms I cannot see.
Oh, say not so!
Those sounds that flow
In murmurs of delight and woe
Come not from wings of birds.
They are the throngs
Of the poet's songs,
Murmurs of pleasures, and pains, and wrongs,
The sound of winged words.
This is the cry
Of souls, that high
On toiling, beating pinions, fly,
Seeking a warmer clime.
From their distant flight
Through realms of light
It falls into our world of night,
With the murmuring sound of rhyme.
poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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Vapor Trail
Stratospheric traces of our transitory flight
Trails of condensation held
In narrow paths of white
The sun is turning black
The world is turning gray
All the stars fade from the night
The oceans drain away
Horizon to Horizon
Memory written on the wind
Fading away like an hourglass, grain by grain
Swept away like voices in a hurricane
In a vapor trail
Atmospheric phases make the transitory last
Vaporize the memories that freeze the fading past
Silence all the songbirds
Stilled by the killing frost
Forests burn to ashes
Everything is lost
Washed away like footprints in the rain
In a vapor trail
song performed by by Rush
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Beneath blue ocean still
The water vapor rises
Over a blue ocean tone
Where surface still like silence
Covers all of the unknown.
Beneath there is mystery
Mermaids and fish swim
A portal of fantasy
Is where all stories begin.
Darting dolphins, talking sharks,
Sea-horses dance all around.
Red glow fish zip and twirl by.
U-boat awakes from ocean ground.
Under-water cities bustle
A fish dares to leap ashore
Whirl-pools confuse schools of fish.
Serpents rest on ocean floor.
The Illuminated waters.
The rainbow speckled scales.
Jaws of hungry predators.
Squirmy blue electric eels.
Above rippling surface
Nets catch all of the pretend.
Back to the blue ocean still.
Mystic vapor there ascends.
poem by Josh Alfred
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Silver Wings
Silver wings shining in the sunlight
Roaring engines headed somewhere in flight
Theyre taking you away
Leaving me lonely
Silver wings slowly fading out of sight
Silver wings shining in the sunlight
Roaring engines headed somewhere in flight
Theyre taking you away
Leaving me lonely
Silver wings slowly fading out of sight
Dont leave me I cry
Dont take that airplane ride
But you lock me outta your mind
Left me standing here behind
Silver wings shining in the sunlight
Roaring engines headed somewhere in flight
Theyre taking you away
Leaving me lonely
Silver wings slowly fading out of sight
Slowly fading out of sight
Slowly fading out of sight
song performed by by Ryan Adams
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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