I Yearn For A Tranquil Moment
I yearn for a tranquil moment
To be out upon the sea of harmony,
In that enchanted boat.
Oh, boatman, do you know my heart?
poem by Sugawara Takesue no Musume
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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 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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To what shore would you cross
To what shore would you cross,
O my heart?
there is no traveller before you,
there is no road:
Where is the movement,
where is the rest,
on that shore?
There is no water; no boat, no boatman, is there;
There is not so much as a rope to tow the boat, nor a man to draw it.
No earth, no sky, no time, no thing, is there: no shore, no ford!
There, there is neither body nor mind:
and where is the place that shall still the thirst of the soul?
You shall find naught in that emptiness.
Be strong, and enter into your own body:
for there your foothold is firm.
Consider it well,
O my heart!
go not elsewhere,
Kabîr says: 'Put all imaginations away,
and stand fast in that which you are.'
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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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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At Day's End
I yearn so much your genuine love
After my daily tasks are done.
I yearn your precious words of encouragement
Until my stress in life is done.
I yearn the sympathy that in your heart lies
After all the strenuous labor is done.
I yearn the radiant smile on your face
After viewing the glorious setting sun.
poem by Joseph T. Renaldi
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Having Crossed The River
Having crossed the river,
where will you go, O friend?
There's no road to tread,
No traveler ahead,
Neither a beginning, nor an end.
There's no water, no boat, no boatman, no cord;
No earth is there, no sky, no time, no bank, no ford.
You have forgotten the Self within,
Your search in the void will be in vain;
In a moment the life will ebb
And in this body you won't remain.
Be ever conscious of this, O friend,
You've to immerse within your Self;
Kabir says, salvation you won't then need,
For what you are, you would be indeed.
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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Unmet Need or M' lady Tara
I know not that for which I yearn
But know my life is incomplete,
At night I lie and toss and turn
But always I meet with defeat.
Sometimes my heart will miss a beat.
I know not that for which I yearn
A malady I cannot treat
Sometimes it goes but will return.
Perhaps in due course I will learn
What I must know to be complete.
I know not that for which I yearn
Until I know I can’t compete.
So like an echo I repeat
What must I do to earn
full forgiveness for my deceit
I know not that for which I yearn.
1-Jul-08
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Unmet Need
I know not that for which I yearn
But know my life is incomplete,
At night I lie and toss and turn
But always I meet with defeat.
Sometimes my heart will miss a beat.
I know not that for which I yearn
A malady I cannot treat
Sometimes it goes but will return.
Perhaps in due course I will learn
What I must know to be complete.
I know not that for which I yearn
Until I know I can’t compete.
So like an echo I repeat
What must I do to earn
full forgiveness for my deceit
I know not that for which I yearn.
1-Jul-08
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Ferry Me Across The Water
‘Ferry me across the water,
Do, boatman, do.’
‘If you've a penny in your purse
I'll ferry you.’
‘I have a penny in my purse,
And my eyes are blue;
So ferry me across the water,
Do, boatman, do.’
‘Step into my ferry-boat,
Be they black or blue,
And for the penny in your purse
I'll ferry you.’
poem by Christina Georgina Rossetti
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Rise Of The Enchanted
Enchanted words, and enchanted saying, enchanted words that has no meaning. Enchanted words that goes afar, enchanted saying that brings you to the stars. Rise of the enchanting is beautiful as my Lord, for it is as seeing into a woman's eyes, and love at first sight, everything is now on one accord. This is the freedom men as spoken of the freedom to be, enchanted with the mind for all to see. For as others have tried many have surpassed, the diverse mind that comes with many tests. What is the enchantment of which you so humbly speak, for it is freedom, the freedom of the meek. For I am enchanted but holding back I shall, until I show my true feelings for one I can appeal. I am enchanting and I am free, but not free to be, as tough it is my ecstasy, but I have the freedom, because freedom is free, but not enchanted I may not be, for to be free I have to be enchanted, because to be enchanted is to be free. May I be enchanted grant me thee, shall I be enchanted, shall I be free, for this is my rise, this is my plea, this is my enchantment I always wanted to see, the enchantment within me, my rise of enchanting, the enchantment for all to agree, because finally I am free.
poem by Augustus Gatlin
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The singing Lagoon
An Otter and a Guppy they lived in an isolated lagoon.
They are very good friends.
In a moonlit night they hear a beautiful song.
A Nymph sings while combing her tress in the mangrove.
Once in a blue moon a slim and handsome boatman comes there and joins her singing.
Otter whispered to Guppy; 'My friend are they lovers? '
'I don't think so, if they are lovers then why the boatman comes very seldom? 'Guppy replied.
'Yes, how a boatman can loves a Nymph? 'Otter explained.
They saw the boatman goes into the mangrove.
And they heard the Nymph cries. 'How long I have to wait? And you promised that you take me to your shack soon.'
'Definitely I loose my job in due course as they are making a bridge.
I have already planned to go to the sea as fishing is more profitable.
Please do not worry my sweetheart and I fish you one day when my pocket is full.'
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Here I Am
i stand like nothing against an embrace
not even a single particle of dust
i stand like nothing plenitude heart
and i yearn to take those hands
and i yearn to look at those eyes
and i yearn to seal those lips
in a beautiful nothing of words
silent blissful wonderfully clear
of everything
here i am
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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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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Harmony (From" Harmony")
Harmony
Unforgettable harmony
Harmony
First there was harmony
And there was rhyme
This was our time
Harmony
Did we have harmony
And that's just about all we had!
Suddenly
A little harmony
And the poverty's not so bad
Thin, we were
Poor as sin in berlin, we were!
Patches on our pants
Mercif'lly, when you're in harmony
You're in a trance
Others went marching
Not us, we'd dance
No one in grodnogubernia
Ever learned to dance like this!
Spoken:
(Believe it or not I was a rabbi before all this started!
In grodnogubernia yet!)
If you're in grodnogubernia
Tell em', this you shouldn't miss!
Harmony
All arm in arm were we
Well, except when the punches flew
Squabbles, sure
But squabbles don't endure
When there's harmony in the brew
Then did we
Oh, so splendidly blend, did we
Like a spell had come
It was clear
My pals and I could hear
A different drum
Outside they hollered!
But we hadharmony!
In this joint
All encounters with counterpoint
End in harmony
And it's clear
No man's a solo here
Not even me
No solo mio!
No we've got harmony!
When we've got harmony
Then just maybe we've got a chance
Harmony, the best is harmony!
And the rest is a song and dance!
Where you find
You're in harmony
There you find
Shelter in a storm
Every note
A button on the coat
That keeps you warm
Stars have the heavens
But we've got harmony!
Harmony!
Harmony!
Harmony!
Troubles disappear
And what you feel is what you hear
Not what you see!
Yes, first there was
Harmony!
song performed by by Barry Manilow
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Waters Of Tyne
I cannot get to my love if I would die;
The water of Tyne runs between her and me
And here I must stand with a tear in my 'ee,
Both sighing and sickly, my sweetheart to see
I cannot get to my love, if I would die;
The water of Tyne runs between her and me
And here I must stand with a tear in my 'ee,
Both sighing and sickly my sweetheart to see
Oh, where is the boatman, my bonny hinny?
Oh, where is the boatman? Bring him to me
To ferry me over the Tyne to my honey,
And I will remember the boatman and thee
Oh, bring me a boatman, I'll give any money,
And you for your troubles rewarded shall be
To ferry me over the Tyne to my honey
Or scull her across the rough river to me
song performed by by Sting
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Crickety-Crack, the boat went!
My prayer goes to those who lost their loved ones,
With my face in my palm
The sea angry, far from being calm
Crickety-Crack, Crickety-Crack,
The boat went
And in that moment
I was very scared
Crickety-Crack, Crickety-Crack,
The boat went
And in that moment
I feared for our lives
All that was on my mind was
How we were going to survive
Unlike the doomed Egyptian ferry
Nothing happened, though I was very weary
And far from being merry
I could feel the power of its engine
If this boat went down
No one would win
No one would know where to begin
Everything on the ferry was shaking
People were just sitting and faking
Or perhaps I was mistaking
Because of the looks of unconcerned faces
If there were scared
There were no significant traces
Crickety-Crack, Crickety-Crack,
The boat went
And in that moment
I became very nervous
With the complete knowledge
The sea is such a powerful force
A reassuring hand
Made me understand
What is to be, will be
I suddenly realised the Sea
Is far more superior to the Land
Copyright 2006 - Sylvia Chidi
poem by Sylvia Chidi
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Love With Peace And Justice
It's a troubled World we live in the World of today
But love with peace and justice only decades away
In fifty years or less from now there won't be mistrust and hate
The war lords and the men of war will have passed their use by date.
Those who love peace and justice are beginning to unite
And for the men who worship war their loss of power in sight
Soon war jets will not fly the sky under the cloak of night
And those who promote harmony will be the men of might.
The yearn for peace is spreading getting stronger by the day
And those who are divisive will not have a part to play
In the World of the future the racist and the cruel
Will not have any power at all only the just will rule.
The children who are born today will surely live to see
A World of peace and harmony and of war and hatred free
For the yearn for peace is spreading and with each passing day it grow
And war will be unheard of in forty years or so.
poem by Francis Duggan
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The only way is through
I stand beside your open door
And look into the room.
A moment’s hesitation, just,
a chill of pending doom.
I confess I’ve feared this day,
And hope my sight proves wrong,
but you still and quiet lay, -
a pause within a song-.
Your body covered with a sheet
No stir, no breathe of air
Waiting, patient, for the boatman
with nothing to declare.
I hesitate a moment there
Unsure of what to do
Then quietly remind myself
my only way is through
poem by John F. McCullagh
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