A Boat Is a Lever
After my student went to the doctor to
Check out the rash speckling his
Right hand and found out he had
Leukemia, that the cancer had spread
Into his lungs, then where did he go?
I've called his number several times.
Flat-bottom boats light in water.
Brown brack and mud smell,
Stumps like chewed-off candles,
Cypress knees, knock and small
Talk floating over water, a motor
Chuffing off, a small blue cloud of excess
Gasoline spreads an ugly
Rainbow on tan water.Every
Thing rests on its proposition
Including smooth isobars along the bay.
Since collective thought cannot exist
As thought it passes into things.
Chemo takes a few gray hairs.Mustard
Cruises the bloodstream under a blizzard
Of white cells.Subdued by the arbitrary,
Suspended, the one in the boat still needs
To row it -- to direct the muscles, to
Maintain equilibrium with air
And water.If water is waveless
Then the boat reads by leading marks.
There is nothing more beautiful
Than a boat.
poem by Ralph Burns
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Looking for Water
Still the leaves are spinning 'round
Take my hand as we go down, and down, and down
Looking for water
Well, our light's gone in a New York minute
Don't know about you, but my heart's not in it
(Looking, looking, looking)
I'm looking for water
I'm looking for water
(Looking, looking, looking)
I can't breathe the air, can't raise a fact
'Cause all we've got left is a beat in the night, and I'm
(Looking for water)
Looking for water
(Looking for water)
(Looking, looking)
Take my hand as we go down, and down
Leave it all behind, nothing could be found
(I'm, looking for water)
I'm looking for water
(Looking for water)
(Looking, looking)
(I, looking for water)
Looking everywhere
(Looking for water)
Looking here and there
(I'm looking for water)
I'm looking for water
(Looking for water)
(Looking, looking)
I can't live in this cage, I can't eat this candy
The edge of the earth to the spin in my head
The look in your eyes and never means never
The dawn's early light, baby, dark is forever
(Looking, looking)
(Looking, looking)
(Looking for water)
(Looking, looking)
I
(Looking for water)
(Looking for water)
(Looking, looking)
I
(Looking for water)
(Looking for water)
(Looking, looking)
I
(Looking for water)
(Looking for watter)
Looking, looking)
I
(Looking for water)
(Looking for watter)
Looking, looking)
I
(Looking for water)
(Looking for watter)
song performed by by David Bowie, music by David Bowie, lyrics by David Bowie from Reality
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Pearls Girl
Rioja. rioja. reverend al green.
Deep blue morocco. the water on stone.
The water on concrete. the water on sand.
The water on fire. smoke.
The wind. the salt. the bride boat coming.
Dave in the water. old man.
Einstein on top of his house. white deep blue
Andalusia red yellow red yellow black car.
Red light. far. black place. walls. blue chair.
Morocco. hamburg. paris.
The pieces of the puzzle are waiting.
The water of the dark boats gliding.
The bride boats gone out to sea and
Dave is floating. dave is floating.
And old man einstein crazy in his attic.
Crazy.
White room. sun room. shadow room.
Night transmitting cars across the room.
These things sent to dance across the room.
Eye watching from your bed. returning to you.
song performed by by Underworld
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Lake
Water lilies load all over
The blue lake amid the woods,
That imparts, while in white circles
Startling, to a boat its moods.
And along the strands I‘m passing
Listening, waiting, in unrest,
That she from the reeds may issue
And fall, gently, on my breast;
That we may jump in the little
Boat, while water‘s voices whelm
All our feelings; that enchanted
I may drop my oars and helm;
That all charmed we may be floating
While moon‘s kindly light surrounds
Us, winds cause the reeds to rustle
And the waving water sounds.
But she does not come; abandoned,
Vainly I endure and sigh
Lonely, as the water lilies
On the blue lake ever lie.
poem by Mihai Eminescu from Poems (Poesii) (September 1876), translated by Dimitrie Cuclin
Submitted by Dan CostinaÅŸ
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Paper, Pen and Ink
With paper, pen and ink I began to think
of a story that I could write.
Or maybe a verse or two about something new,
something original, fresh and bright.
I sat and thought but thought of nought
a stretched circle full of nothing.
A mist came down and I could hear a sound
that sounded like water lapping.
It was a castle's moat and a waiting boat,
and a figure with a hooded habit.
He took no breath and looked like death
this man so old and decrepit.
A woman in white stepped into sight
carrying her head under her arm.
On the boat she sat beside a brown rat
which disturbed the water's calm.
The boat drifted from sight into the night
like a thought from a weary mind.
The thinning grey mist was instantly mist,
leaving my paper, pen, and ink behind.
poem by Orlando Belo
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About Last Night
the boat was small
the glass window is round
like an eyeball
looking out to the
vast sea
it is dark
the black shark is a shadow
inside the dark
blueness of the
night water
there is a storm
a man stands
waiting for what comes next
he must jump
to the water
if needs be
the big eye of the fish
stares at him
with fury
that night
they were eye to eye
and then the fish
passes away
opposite the boat's
direction
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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4. Elements – Water
Water an elemental
Water a fundamental
Building block of life
Water of Life
Water of Death
Water in all religions
Water in all living things
Water in all countries
Water also used for barter
No life without water
No rife with water
No respect for water
Willful neglect of water
Water, for cooking
Water, for cleaning
Water, for drinking
Water, for living
Water, for dying
Water is the same
In all languages
Water is the same
To all living beings
poem by Anand Dixit
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Fishing On The Susquehanna In July
I have never been fishing on the Susquehanna
or on any river for that matter
to be perfectly honest.
Not in July or any month
have I had the pleasure -- if it is a pleasure --
of fishing on the Susquehanna.
I am more likely to be found
in a quiet room like this one --
a painting of a woman on the wall,
a bowl of tangerines on the table --
trying to manufacture the sensation
of fishing on the Susquehanna.
There is little doubt
that others have been fishing
on the Susquehanna,
rowing upstream in a wooden boat,
sliding the oars under the water
then raising them to drip in the light.
But the nearest I have ever come to
fishing on the Susquehanna
was one afternoon in a museum in Philadelphia,
when I balanced a little egg of time
in front of a painting
in which that river curled around a bend
under a blue cloud-ruffled sky,
dense trees along the banks,
and a fellow with a red bandana
sitting in a small, green
flat-bottom boat
holding the thin whip of a pole.
That is something I am unlikely
ever to do, I remember
saying to myself and the person next to me.
Then I blinked and moved on
to other American scenes
of haystacks, water whitening over rocks,
even one of a brown hare
who seemed so wired with alertness
I imagined him springing right out of the frame.
poem by Billy Collins
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A Paper Boat On A Murky River
on your hand is a paper boat
you made last night
on a rainy day like this
you put on a gray rain coat
the river rises
perfect for your scheme
you put the boat gently
on the brown water
white paper boat
carried by this murkiness
your hands push
the paper boat leaves
tonight you sleep on
the wooden floor
it is mahogany brown and you
become the paper boat
sailing inside your dream
the floor becomes the big river
your thoughts become the wind
your eyes become two moons
the room is as dark as the night
the dream is so alive like a mother's song.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Down To The Water
Written by dewey bunnell, 1977
Found on harbor.
The waves come in
Crash on the shoreline
Salty water, dont you know
Its yours, yours and mine
So grab your girl
And dont go wastin time
And lets go down to the water tonight
White capped clouds
Dance in the sunlight
Purple fishes watch
And show you some of their delight
The weathers fine
And everythings all right
So lets go down to the water tonight
Lets go down to the water tonight
Come on down, come on down
Come on down, down to the water
Come on down, come on down
Come on down, down to the water
Down to the water
Island music
Sways with a palm tree
Friends of mine lay back
And talk of times that werent so free
So lets have fun
And that means you and me
And lets go down to the water tonight
Lets go down to the water tonight.
Down, down, down to the water
Down, down, down to the water
Down, down, down to the water
Down, down, down to the water
Down, down, down to the water
Down, down, down to the water ...
song performed by by America
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Want Water
Just dont taste good.
Whats wrong-number one water.
So the rice grower, ' said'.
You maybe want more.
Feel like a shut door.
Water just dont feel right.
Acid-rain- blurring my sight.
Number one water-BOY.
Please dont tell me more.
YOU MUST HAVE WATER.
YOU number -1,1,1,1, -wont live.
Water shock to the body.
Water just dont feel right.
Must have some water, water.
WHAT YOU MEAN-YOU WANT -WATER.
Out on the block -GIRL.
BABY NEEDS WATER.
YOE, YOE, YOE-you got-WATER
MAN-KEEP YOUR COOL.
YOE-COOL water MAN.
COOL WATER
WATER.
WAT.
W.
[[[[the end]]]
[GOOGLE: search, POEWHIT]
poem by Joe Poewhit
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Lover's Gifts XVI: She Dwelt Here by the Pool
She dwelt here by the pool with its landing-stairs in ruins. Many
an evening she had watched the moon made dizzy by the shaking of
bamboo leaves, and on many a rainy day the smell of the wet earth
had come to her over the young shoots of rice.
Her pet name is known here among those date-palm groves and
in the courtyards where girls sit and talk while stitching their
winter quilts. The water in this pool keeps in its depth the memory
of her swimming limbs, and her wet feet had left their marks, day
after day, on the footpath leading to the village.
The women who come to-day with their vessels to the water have
all seen her smile over simple jests, and the old peasant, taking
his bullocks to their bath, used to stop at her door every day to
greet her.
Many a sailing-boat passes by this village; many a traveller
takes rest beneath that banyan tree; the ferry-boat crosses to
yonder ford carrying crowds to the market; but they never notice
this spot by the village road, near the pool with its ruined
landing-stairs,-where dwelt she whom I love.
poem by Rabindranath Tagore
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Fun ticket pathway 42
Going walking at the beach.
I see lots of birds,
I see lots of water
and I see some boats.
One goes fast,
one goes slow
and one just floating there.
I think it's for me.
A boat just waiting,
to see if I would get in it
and go to some place new,
in the water away from the beach.
poem by Jackie Anderson
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Sinking
Youre on a wide open ocean
No one around you for miles
Your thinkin of drinkin on water
While youre sailing the nile
No one to stop you on your way
Flyin by goes a stork
You decide to bring your oars in now
But accidently knock out the cork
Row your boat to shore
cause it is leaking and youre still drinking
Unless you cork the hole
You wont be sailing, youll be sinking
Not knowin your sinkin
You take out a bottle of rum
Swiggin a drink to the bottom
The bottle reads van monchinghum
Oars back into the water
You think youll sail on
But you cant cause your boat contains
Three and a half gallons
Chorus:
Row, row, row your boat
Sail your ship to shore
Youre barely, barely, barely keeping afloat
I hope that you wont drink no more
song performed by by Gwen Stefani
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The hijol* tree’s shade
Her fault was she had been to the river to look at herself
The god of the river took her down to the water and that’s that
The one who jumped in to bring her from the water
Had a boat of ejar* wood and his calves too were ejar-hued
Leaving boat and oar meandering under water
The light house of truth glimmered in the distance easy as a straight line
Exhausted swimming as they got out of water on to land
Under the shade of the hijol by the river they looked at their eyes
The colour of breath under water was green on land it’s like land
The shade of the hijol hides all unwritten annals of the earth
***
* The Indian oak, Barringtonia acutangula.
* A species of timber tree, Lagerstroemia reginae.
(Translated from Assamese by Prof. Pradip Acharya)
poem by Kushal Dutta
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Papyrus Boat
Float me upon the source of the Nile
Where the sky meets the water
And let me sing...
'Row, Row, little boat
Gently down the stream
Merely, merely, life is but a dream'
With the beat of the song
take me back to innocence
as pure as a spring water
Return me back to innocence
Where life is a dream
Float me papyrus boat
Gently to the calmest spot
Where the lake sings its nightingale
To the floating boats in the horizon
For the ship has taken me
To a stormy sea
Where the wind howls
Row, row papyrus boat
Gently to the calmest spot
Row...row..row
Life is so..so real
It is not just a dream
poem by Fasika Ayalew
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The small writer
As I walk on Guido Gezelle’s birth ground,
Bruges, a city full of people is spread around me,
there’s a small boat with sails flapping in the wind,
cathedrals and channels are everywhere, a place where you can love
and in a channel there’s something small circling
dressed in black armoured skin
but maybe it’s only my imagination
comprehending secret words written on the water surface
and when I look up into the sky
there are clouds closing
and suddenly it’s as if the clouds open
with His great presence coming down,
I have to cover my eyes against the bright light
and I see a water beetle drawing the names of God on the water.
[Reference: Het Schrijverke by Guido Gezelle. Bruges is a city in Belgium.]
poem by Gert Strydom
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It was my thirteenth year
It was my thirteenth year
and we fished with our friend
from Rhodesia
and he taught us
to make our own sinkers
from lead.
Three boys casting
lines into a dam
and watching the policeman
and when it stirs
or give a small pull
whipping the rod.
At times we used floats
and watched if the red and white
still drift on the water
and it was peaceful
at the dam
with the smooth water
stretching out in front of us.
Crabs crept skew
along the shore
and at times we sailed
a old leaking row boat
and use a big tin
to empty it.
The fishes easily took earthworms
honey or curry dough
and we caught strings
of bream, caper, yellow fish
and catfish.
It’s a great thing
to fry fish on the coals
and there’s something in the smell
that makes you hungry
and we watched the stars
that hanging bright and big in the sky
while we kept on catching
deep into the night.
poem by Gert Strydom
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I Rigged the Darned Sails and Waiting for the Boisterous Wind!
A 'shoal' boat is one which has a shallow keel, sometimes the keel is winged. This boat is easier to turn and has less inertia. It also can sail in shallower water. However, in heavy weather it may not be as stable as a deep water boat and may capsize more easily.
A Mermaid would be much preferable
For my single cabin?
As she knows the sea well
But do not know how she tangles
With a warm heart of a Man
That's hotter than an Oven?
Sometimes I think the lonesome is better than anything
As you could cry louder than the Ocean
And nobody bothers?
to my fellow seafarer/poet oskar in gratitude!
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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