Going Back to School
The boat ploughed on. Now Alcatraz was past
And all the grey waves flamed to red again
At the dead sun's last glimmer. Far and vast
The Sausalito lights burned suddenly
In little dots and clumps, as if a pen
Had scrawled vague lines of gold across the hills;
The sky was like a cup some rare wine fills,
And stars came as he watched
-- and he was free
One splendid instant -- back in the great room,
Curled in a chair with all of them beside
And the whole world a rush of happy voices,
With laughter beating in a clamorous tide. . . .
Saw once again the heat of harvest fume
Up to the empty sky in threads like glass,
And ran, and was a part of what rejoices
In thunderous nights of rain; lay in the grass
Sun-baked and tired, looking through a maze
Of tiny stems into a new green world;
Once more knew eves of perfume, days ablaze
With clear, dry heat on the brown, rolling fields;
Shuddered with fearful ecstasy in bed
Over a book of knights and bloody shields . . .
The ship slowed, jarred and stopped. There, straight ahead,
Were dock and fellows. Stumbling, he was whirled
Out and away to meet them -- and his back
Slumped to the old half-cringe, his hands fell slack;
A big boy's arm went round him -- and a twist
Sent shattering pain along his tortured wrist,
As a voice cried, a bloated voice and fat,
"Why it's Miss Nancy! Come along, you rat!"
poem by Stephen Vincent Benet
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Going Back To School
The boat ploughed on. Now Alcatraz was past
And all the grey waves flamed to red again
At the dead sun's last glimmer. Far and vast
The Sausalito lights burned suddenly
In little dots and clumps, as if a pen
Had scrawled vague lines of gold across the hills;
The sky was like a cup some rare wine fills,
And stars came as he watched
- and he was free
One splendid instant - back in the great room,
Curled in a chair with all of them beside
And the whole world a rush of happy voices,
With laughter beating in a clamorous tide. . . .
Saw once again the heat of harvest fume
Up to the empty sky in threads like glass,
And ran, and was a part of what rejoices
In thunderous nights of rain; lay in the grass
Sun-baked and tired, looking through a maze
Of tiny stems into a new green world;
Once more knew eves of perfume, days ablaze
With clear, dry heat on the brown, rolling fields;
Shuddered with fearful ecstasy in bed
Over a book of knights and bloody shields . . .
The ship slowed, jarred and stopped. There, straight ahead,
Were dock and fellows. Stumbling, he was whirled
Out and away to meet them - and his back
Slumped to the old half-cringe, his hands fell slack;
A big boy's arm went round him - and a twist
Sent shattering pain along his tortured wrist,
As a voice cried, a bloated voice and fat,
'Why it's Miss Nancy! Come along, you rat!'
poem by Stephen Vincent Benet
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Grey World
Grey nights in the wind,
And the grey-faced dead.
Grey hairs in my head,
And grey eyes in my mind.
Grey mists in the morn,
And grey waves that rave,
Grey mould on my grave,
And grey eyes forlorn.
Grey clouds in the sky,
And the grey world asleep,
Grey ghosts that sigh,
And grey eyes that weep.
poem by Leon Gellert
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See The Constellation
I lay my head on the railroad track
Stare at the sky all painted up
Your train is gone, wont be coming back
See the constellation ride across the sky
No cigar, no lady on his arm
Just a guy made of dots and lines
Just a guy made of dots and lines
Two years ago moved from my town
I was looking up past the city lights
But the city lights got in my way
See the constellation ride across the sky
No cigar, no lady on his arm
Just a guy made of dots and lines
Just a guy made of dots and lines
I found my mind on the ground below
I was looking down, it was looking back
I was in the sky all dressed in black
See the constellation ride across the sky
No cigar, no lady on his arm
Just a guy made of dots and lines
Just a guy made of dots and lines
Just a guy made of dots and lines
Can you hear what I see in the sky?
Can you hear what I see in the sky?
Can you hear what I see in the sky?
Notes
The dial-a-song version:
I lay my head on the railroad track
Look at the sky all dressed in black
Your train is gone, wont be coming back
My lone constellation rides across the sky
No cigar, no lady on his arm
Just a guy made from dots and lines
Just a guy made from dots and lines
The city lights think nothings there
No real stars, nothings there
My lone constellation rides across the sky
No cigar, no lady on his arm
Just a guy made from dots and lines
Just a guy made from dots and lines
song performed by by They Might Be Giants
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Alcatraz
Now lay me down on market street
Im lookin for some spare change
A coast guard ship has been lookin for me
And I might have to change my name
Here comes uncle sam again with the same old bag of beans
The local chiefs on the radio
Hes got some hungry mouths to feed
Goin back to alcatraz
Lay me back down here on the highway
One hundred and one ways to go
Solitary is so confinin
To the legend of geronimo
Oh I know I could bring the rain
Used to dance for abc
And all the braves down on death row
Are pretending to be free
Back home in alcatraz
In the land of the great white father
My american blood runs cold
I left my home in oklahoma
To the everglades I go
Its just the wings on the silver cars
And Im allowed to plow a field
Its not the life for a nineteen seventy
(whats an)indian boy to do
Goin back to alcatraz
Lay me down on market street
Im lookin for some spare change
A coast guard ship has been lookin for me
Might have to change my name
Here comes uncle sam again with the same old bag of beans
Local chiefs on the radio
Hes got some hungry mouths to feed
Goin back to alcatraz
Here comes uncle sam again with the same old bag of beans
Local chiefs on the radio
Hes got some hungry mouths to feed
Goin back to alcatraz
Goin back to alcatraz
Goin back to alcatraz
Goin back to alcatraz
Goin back to alcatraz
Goin back to alcatraz
Goin back to alcatraz
Goin back to alcatraz
song performed by by Nazareth
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Scots of the Riverina
The boy cleared out to the city from his home at harvest time --
They were Scots of the Riverina, and to run from home was a crime.
The old man burned his letters, the first and last he burned,
And he scratched his name from the Bible when the old wife's back was turned.
A year went past and another. There were calls from the firing-line;
They heard the boy had enlisted, but the old man made no sign.
His name must never be mentioned on the farm by Gundagai --
They were Scots of the Riverina with ever the kirk hard by.
The boy came home on his "final", and the township's bonfire burned.
His mother's arms were about him; but the old man's back was turned.
The daughters begged for pardon till the old man raised his hand --
A Scot of the Riverina who was hard to understand.
The boy was killed in Flanders, where the best and bravest die.
There were tears at the Grahame homestead and grief in Gundagai;
But the old man ploughed at daybreak and the old man ploughed till the mirk --
There were furrows of pain in the orchard while his housefolk went to the kirk.
The hurricane lamp in the rafters dimly and dimly burned;
And the old man died at the table when the old wife's back was turned.
Face down on his bare arms folded he sank with his wild grey hair
Outspread o'er the open Bible and a name re-written there.
poem by Henry Lawson
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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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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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The Desolate Field
Vast and grey, the sky
is a simulacrum
to all but him whose days
are vast and grey and --
In the tall, dried grasses
a goat stirs
with nozzle searching the ground.
My head is in the air
but who am I . . . ?
-- and my heart stops amazed
at the thought of love
vast and grey
yearning silently over me.
poem by William Carlos Williams
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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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Sail Away
Early in the day it was whispered that we should sail in a boat,
only thou and I, and never a soul in the world would know of this our
pilgrimage to no country and to no end.
In that shoreless ocean,
at thy silently listening smile my songs would swell in melodies,
free as waves, free from all bondage of words.
Is the time not come yet?
Are there works still to do?
Lo, the evening has come down upon the shore
and in the fading light the seabirds come flying to their nests.
Who knows when the chains will be off,
and the boat, like the last glimmer of sunset,
vanish into the night?
poem by Rabindranath Tagore
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Fishing For Snoek (Un-Wreath Sonnet)
Somewhat slightly the shore, the lights ebb away
waves toss and play while the moon shines brightly
in darkness nightly the stars glitter over Table Bay
and the wind is blown only somewhat lightly.
Without mistake the boat furrows, up and down
holding its own spreads some foam in its wake,
in I take the vastness of great Cape Town,
God we trust; the sea lies flat as a lake
and its night, the swells are easier on us
like some dust hangs the early grey twilight,
it’s a sight deck-boards filled like a bus
and thus lines sing into the last of night
the boat is bright green with apparatus
going into action up to daylight.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Speedboat Ride
Eastwards, along the Thames, we leisurely cruise,
Taking in, all around us, some magnificent views.
We are given a live commentary, by our Guide,
As, past many places of interest, we now ride.
By the time, the speedboat reaches Canary Wharf,
There is far less river traffic, going to and forth.
Very suddenly, our boat picks up great speed;
To hold on tightly, there now is a great need.
As our boat zooms about, here and there,
The cold, wild wind whips through our hair.
The experience is just so totally exhilarating,
And, most definitely, well worth the waiting.
As the speedboat, merrily twists and turns,
The river water, below us, restlessly churns.
The boat zigzags about, rocking side to side;
In our seats, our bottoms can’t help but slide.
Over newly created waves, our boat now hops;
For a second, we’re flying, before we then drop.
We’re bumped about: just like at a fairground,
But, all too soon, our boat is homeward bound.
Our experience has really been just so thrilling;
To repeat it all, we are both more than willing.
A while later, we’re stood back upon dry land,
With another speedboat trip already planned.
poem by Angela Wybrow
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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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Anniversary Of An Uninteresting Event
No more gold lights to keep your warm
for the queen earth to keep you warm
in your kingdoms High on the waves you made for us
But not since you left have the waves come
The bars dead and the rockets red keeping you wet in your death bed
So high on the waves you made for us
But not since you left have the waves you come
High on the waves you made for us
Not since you left have the waves come
Waves come, waves come, waves come, waves come
song performed by by Deftones
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The storm that hangs threatening
From Margate beach
I see a ship sailing past,
with people that are
dots on it.
The summer sun is hot and high
but there’s a strong wind
that swishes over the sea
and waves that like white spectre horses,
curl and twist and rise foaming
and shattering
fall to death against rocks and the beach
On the horizon grey clouds hang ominous,
where a storm is rising
and the sky breaks the water.
I am caught up in a life
that is broken into pieces
and I wonder when
the storm is going to overwhelm me.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Infinite Journey
The sky was covered with swans and birds
moving towards there endless infinite journey
there image reflecting with new waves
my small boat was moving with the winds
some new lights falls on me
makes me fly higher and higher beyond space
towards the infintie journey of eternal love
where i will listen the chanting of birds
which are flying with my floating boat
towards the endless journey
where the sun always tries to meet the earth
on the edges of oceans far far away
where the waves tries to kiss the clouds.
poem by Ramesh Kavdia
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Latter Days
We
Are
Dots
And
We're
Beautiful
And
Funny
And
Good
We
Are
Dots
We
Are
Dots
We
Are
Loved
July 2012
poem by Judith Gerstenkorn
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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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