Our Evenings
i and he liked swimming
in river pamba
every evening when
sun dipped its brush
in river
we walked, holding our hands, across the water
to the next bank
laughing, swimming
lying on the bank
we spent a few nice moments...
poem by Anirudh Induchudan Anirudh Induchudan

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My river bank
The water hit the bank
Like a wave upon a shore
Happiness just out of reach
Finding that is something you can’t teach
No one to talk to
No one to see
As you can tell just me
I sit alone on my river bank
No happy people passing by as I let out a gentle sigh
I realized I sit alone on my river bank
Unreal happiness in this unreal tournament they call life
I sit alone, isolated on my river bank
I shall always sit alone on my river bank
I will always be alone on this river bank
poem by EmOzEd johnston

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No One Steps Twice On The River Of Life...
it is not the rage of this river.
when i was a child, as mother says,
i keep my finger inside my mouth
sucked by my throat, to keep hunger away
beside the bank of this river
i am the spectator
and the river believes in the magic
of my innocence
it flows always in a distant
affection,
it is not the rage of the river,
it is i, the grown up man who goes swimming
in the river and feel
the joys of its cool waters
always moving on towards
a destination
it is the swimming with a friend
and then
with a lover and then with a wife
and then my silence,
what we do not have we force to forget
it is the bathing in the river
the rinsing and the cleansing of the waters
it is not the rage of this river
and then we become too weak to be in this river
the river moves on and on
towards the deepest sea looking for the
opening
i wait by the bank of this river
many things have been missed
the more important ones
the one that gives the posterity of
my humanity
it is denied of me because of this river
that gives me nothing
all the while i was the leaf that fell off from
the tree
on the side of this river
and i floated because i have nothing to do
because i can do nothing about
the flow of the river
i become the dead leaf that the air
rides upon
tossed and bumped on boulders
till i sink
deep down the river
that i shall pass only once.
time.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

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I Go Swimming
Ooh, I go swimming, swimming in the water
Swimming in the river, swimming in the sea
I go swimming
I go swimming, swimming in the water
Swimming in the pool, swimming is cool
I go swimming
The sun is burning, I am yearning
For the waterflow (waterflow)
Next to my skin i, like to begin a
Waterflow (waterflow)
Letting off steam I float in a dream,
I cant let go (cant let go)
Follow my wishes, follow the fishes
Down below (down below)
I go swimming
I need water, water to drink
Water on my brain, water sustain,
Water over me
I want water, water I need
Water to think, water to drink
Water over me
The sun is burning, I am yearning
For the waterflow (waterflow)
Next to my skin i, like to begin a
Waterflow (waterflow)
Letting off steam I float in a dream,
I cant let go (cant let go)
Follow my wishes, follow the fishes
Down below (down below)
I go swimming
I go swimming, I go swimming
Swimming in water, swimming in water, swimming in water
Water all over me
Swimming in water, swimming in water, swimming in water
I go swimming, I go swimming
I go swimming, I go swimming
Swimming, I go swimming
Oh I go swimming, I go swimming
Water all over me
Swimming in water, swimming in water, swimming in water
Water all over me
Swimming in water, swimming in water, swimming in water
Water all over me
Swimming in water, swimming in water, swimming in water
Water all over me
song performed by by Peter Gabriel

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Electric Eel Song
Ay! me one child Ay-eeee!
Ay! me one daughter
Take out you’ foot
From the black river water
Haul out you’ hand
Out the slow river water
Stay ‘pon the bank
Of the cold river water
Ay! me one daughter
Ay! me one child! Ay-eeee!
Electric eel
Is the eel in the river
Shadow ‘pon the bottom
Is the eel in the river
Something like you’ hand
Is the eel in the river
Swimming like you’ foot
Is the eel in the river
Ay! me one child Ay-eeee!
Ay! me one daughter
Foot after foot
Though the black river water
She can’t touch the bottom
Out the slow river water
Shirt like umbrella
In the cold river water
Ay! me one daughter
Ay! me one child! Ay-eeee!
Electric eel
Is the eel in the river
Cutlass shape
Is the eel in the river
Black blade or brown
Is the eel in the river
Dozing so quiet
Is the eel in the river
Ay! me one child Ay-eeee!
Ay! me one daughter
Slap of a tail
Through the black river water
Shiver like ague
Out the slow river water
As if she take cramp
Of the cold river water
Ay! me one daughter
Ay! me one child! Ay-eeee!
Electric eel
Is the eel in the river
No blood, just a thrill
Is the eel in the river
Lightning bold
Is the eel in the river
And she Drown now, she chilly
Is the eel in the river
Ay! me one daughter
Ay! me one child! Ay-eeee!
poem by Slade Hopkinson

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River’s Utterance
River’s utterance
Known to both the banks;
Inform you river
Tell him that I am
Sitting on side of bank-
When boat anchor
Swimming is unknown
I am totally helpless;
How to cross river
All time day-night
High or low tide boat flows-
Crosses the river
O! Why the boat
You took him dropping me;
No life except her.
poem by Bongokobida Zakaria

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River Death
River was
Running...
With water...
Water are
Nice too
Play with sands...
Trees...
Mountain rocks...
Swmming fishes...
Some time jump
With dive and swime...
Sun was see
Face at river water
Mirror...?
moon was
Click the eye
About
The river....
Animals are swimming
Birds also drinking...
People also
Swmming too
Wash the cloths...
River was
Every day run
Simply not sad...
At rainey time...
At winter time...
Summer time
River not run
Stop to stop
Death the river...
Sky cry...
With rain
Run the river...!
poem by Otteri Selvakumar

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The River and The Bank
I'm the river
I'm the bank too
There're times the
Bank revolts
Times when the
River overflows
Can't help...!
I struggle
And try reconcile
But when the river side of me flow
Into the sea
I'm an abandoned bank
And a lonely tear
Among the many tears
Flowing in the sea!
poem by Indira Babbellapati

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The White Lily
By the river bank
The frogs croak and caress
Hoping along the river bank
From here to there
At a distant
The swallows twitter with fondness
The lilies rupture with the morning sun
The water reeds sway
As the wind blows along
The river bank
But yet....i feel lost
In this scenery of dexteric desires
I feel caught in lifes pedestals
Tender steps i make....
Along the river bank...
Lilies..
The white lily...
That symbolise
The purity of those souls
Enmeshed in lovesframe
The white lily
That symbolise
The fire that burns within circles
The white lily that symbolises
Long lost desires
Re-invented and rejuvenated
In this river of dexteric desires
The white lily
So white...so pure...
By the river bank
I watch the white lily float and dance
Along the river waters
Their is tenderness in the river
The fishes swim with tenderness
The waters flowing
With a lovers moan
Rythmic drums can be heard from afar
Magic everywhere
I sit and stare at the white lily
With a longing yen....
By the river bank.
poem by Jack Shaka

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Rippling Childhood Memories
Rippling Childhood Memories
Melvin Banggollay
Sitting in solitude in the bank of a river
I behold waves to keep coming back
Gently kissing the shore long and forever
With their murmuring songs like flashback
While cool breeze rippled the serene water
With sweet memories just like a while back
When I used to play in this pristine river
Along with childhood friends on the block.
When I gaze the surface of the serene river
I saw smiles of swimming kids like ducks
Merrily playing as they build castle’s tower
along the river’s shore but waves took them back
with splashing moves from the naughty players
playing and throwing mud from the river bank
but at a distance I behold two young lovers
Building a castle of their own fortune and luck.
Who’s that, well that was me and girl of my life.
poem by Melvin Banggollay

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That Quick Little Brown Dog
that quick little brown dog
jumps over the fence
near the bank of the river,
it is not your dog,
but you happen to be there when it
jumped,
over the fence near the bank of the river
into the river
that deep river with a overrunning
of the water
the dog was struggling to swim back
to the safety of the bank
but it failed and the dog was taken away
by the river and
it was gone,
you wonder why until now you think about that
dead dog
it is not yours but it sticks to your mind
as though it is yours
somehow you think as though you own it
and that you feel so painful about such loss
and you cannot sleep
and then you dream about that quick little brown dog
that drowned
it is barking so hard trying to be alive again
you wake up
with lots of cold sweat
somehow you think again
inside that dream
the face of the quick little brown dog
that jumped over the fence
into the deep river
is yours.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

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My River
Oh! My river
My cute river
Beauteous you are
In the morn, in the gloaming
Sandy is your bosom
Banks are grassy and pebbly
Pellucid little waves Singing and flowing smoothly
You are turned to a young bride now
Garbed in the glittering sequin of gold and argent
And flowing slowly arrayed in all your finery
And verily you are the sybarite!
I am at your bank again, my favorite hangout, where
I spent my childhood more often than not
Vividly return my memories of my nights with you
You were calm in those nights
Still you are, and the glory remains as pristine.
You are bathed in the moon light
How beautiful you are now!
The tiny stars are flashing and dazzling on your bosom
You are cradling thousands of them, as if,
It’s spectacular!
I am lying down, alone,
Looking at the zenith,
Gazing up the galaxy, within the clouds, and
Watching the Gleams of light
Coming through clouds’ cleavages
And vanishing into the river in the distance
The milky orb is almost in the horizon now, and
The golden orb started his brush work in the sky
I nestle down at the bank in the zephyr & gentle cold,
Looking at my river with her vivid golden water
Listening to the music of the foam-flaked waves
A sense of euphoria possesses me as I lie at the bank.
Oh! If ever I could dwell at this bank for years and years
A feeble music from afar fondles me,
As an accompaniment to my relishing
And I relax in the ebb and flow of the rhythms
But it aroused me,
My alarm clock chimed and reminded me
It is the time for work,
Oh! I am in the middle of the desert
Poignantly convinced myself, what a contrast!
No my cute river, No grassy bank, No Pebbly bank
No, No, Nothing, Nothing, but the sand dunes…….
The sand storms ……..
Mar 12,2009 - Hawiyah (Part of Empty Quarter – Saudi Arabia)
poem by Nooruddeen Mathilakathveetil

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The River
When my wife died I used to walk alone by the river,
but I don’t go near there any more.
Lost souls who had drowned used to speak to me
of the lives they had once before.
Every time I went they asked me to enter the water,
‘It will clear your mind, ’ they said.
I told them that I had never learned how to swim
and drowning is the only thing I dread.
One early morning I was walking along the river-bank
and the bank collapsed beneath my feet.
I found myself being swept along by the raging current
and saw my wife drowning in the deep.
Several of the dead I used to talk with held me under,
my breath expired and I just sank.
My wife pulled me up from the river’s depths
and a fisherman revived me on the bank.
poem by Orlando Belo

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In Any Form Of Endearment
The river in you moves
Taking the least resistance
You shall be the murky one
That seeks your own level of murkiness
In calm and still moments
Let me fish for once
In your moments of rage
I shall be the rocky gauge
In the moment of your dryness
I shall be the river bank nearby
We shall be always here in any form
I shall be the bamboo grove one day
And you shall be the cool river again
gently flowing by
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

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Toes
The current is strong from what I've heard
It'll whisk you down the stream
But I never seem to have the time
So my toes just touch the water
So my toes just touch the water
Daydreamed on the bank again
I was swimming with the fish
And I thought this time that it may be true
But my toes just touched the water
But my toes just touched the water
But my toes just touched the water
Walked a mile just to find the edge
Some place low enough
To step right in
Now I'm here and I can't begin
To move
Walked a mile just to find the edge
Some place low enough
To step right in
Now I'm here and I can't begin
To move
That spoiled sun up over there
Always has to have its way
And now I know that the river's there to shelter me
But my toes just touch the water
But my toes just touch the water
But my toes just touch the water
song performed by by Norah Jones

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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On the banks of a river...! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !
Incense sticks, a match box;
And an earthen diya with wick
In a bowl made of dry leaves
Held together by twigs;
I stood at the banks
Of mother Ganges in Haridwar,
After paying change
To the young boy
Who put it together for me
At that morning hour.
I lit the wick and incense stick,
And holding it in both hands
Walked towards the river bank
And put it in the lap
Of the river, watching it
Join other such offerings,
Made by devotees and kin
Of loved ones gone
A long time or just
The night before.
It was a trip
Long overdue,
To say final goodbye
To my ma and dad,
For I was not with them
When they breathed their last
For reasons beyond me,
Of which they had no clue.
I felt sad,
And missed them bad.
One day feeling desolate
I shared my grief,
Loss and longing
With a dear friend.
Ever compassionate,
She held my hand
And said, let go
As the soul feels in earthly bondage,
Let them rest in peace.
That day in the last week
0f December,
I sat at river bank
Watching the turbulence…
Sun light scattered on
The bouncing waves
Northward bound,
As if the river knew
Where it was going.
Somehow I felt calm
To see it in motion
As I took some water
In my cupped palms.
Ever since, I know
They live in me
At all times
As sure as I know
I am alive as I breathe.
Now I wonder
Why did I grieve
For so long?
We built memories
To last a life time.
I
poem by Mamta Agarwal

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Coyahoga
Let's put our heads together and start a new country up
Our father's father's father tried erased the parts he didn't like
Let's try to fill it in bank the quarry river swim
We knee skinned it you and me we knee skinned that river red
This is where we walked this is where we swam
Take a picture here take a souvenir
This land is the land of ours this river runs red over it
We knee skinned it you and me, we knee-skinned that river red
And we gathered up our friends, bank the quarry river, swim
We knee-skinned it you and me, underneath the river bed
This is where we walked, this is where we swam
Take a picture here, take a souvenir
Cuyahoga
Cuyahoga, gone
Let's put our heads together, start a new country up,
Underneath the river bed we burned the river down.
This is where they walked, swam, hunted, danced and sang,
Take a picture here, take a souvenir
Cuyahoga
Cuyahoga, gone
Rewrite the book and rule the pages, saving face, secured in faith
Bury, burn the waste behind you
This land is the land of ours, this river runs red over it
We are not your allies, we can not defend
This is where they walked, this is where they swam
Take a picture here, take a souvenir
Cuyahoga
Cuyahoga, gone
Cuyahoga
Cuyahoga, gone
song performed by by REM

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Fading Laughter
laughing faces
of little boys on the bank
of the river
sounds of running feet
fainting
the song of the river
farther away
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

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Cuyahoga
Lets put our heads together and start a new country up
Our fathers fathers father tried, erased the parts he didnt like
Lets try to fill it in, bank the quarry river, swim
We knee-skinned it you and me, we knee-skinned that river red
This is where we walked, this is where we swam
Take a picture here, take a souvenir
This land is the land of ours, this river runs red over it
We knee-skinned it you and me, we knee-skinned that river red
And we gathered up our friends, bank the quarry river, swim
We knee-skinned it you and me, underneath the river bed
This is where we walked, this is where we swam
Take a picture here, take a souvenir
Cuyahoga
Cuyahoga, gone
Lets put our heads together, start a new country up,
Underneath the river bed we burned the river down.
This is where they walked, swam, hunted, danced and sang,
Take a picture here, take a souvenir
Cuyahoga
Cuyahoga, gone
Rewrite the book and rule the pages, saving face, secured in faith
Bury, burn the waste behind you
This land is the land of ours, this river runs red over it
We are not your allies, we can not defend
This is where they walked, this is where they swam
Take a picture here, take a souvenir
Cuyahoga
Cuyahoga, gone
Cuyahoga
Cuyahoga, gone
song performed by by REM

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Painter’s Agony
I want to paint that river
And the scene behind it
The boat and the boatmen
I know everything about
That river
My association with the river
Many a hundred memories
Evenings and sunshines
Floods and slow water
I have lived my life
On the bank of that river
I want to paint
Paint it with the most beautiful colors
I want to borrow some colors
From the colors of paradise
And I love the town
That lives beside the river
Old and dusty
Where shall I take you
In that small town
Every nook and corner
Shall tell you that it knows me
I want to paint that town
In colors of heaven
I want to carry a few children
And take them on a tour
I want to see the town with their eyes
And then go to the riverbank
And meditate for a while
Drink the wine of nature
And get lost into the world of beauty
And flow with the river
Enter every house
My heart throbs in harmony
With every heart in the town
Give me colors divine
Colors from the other world
For I want to paint
That river and that town
(This poem is about a small town on the bank of river Indus)
poem by Sadiqullah Khan

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On the banks of a river....! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !
Some marigold flowers,
Incense sticks, a match box;
And an earthen diya with wick
In a bowl made of dry leaves
Held together by twigs;
I stood at the banks
Of mother Ganges in Haridwar,
After paying change
To the young boy
Who put it together for me
At that morning hour.
I lit the wick and incense stick,
And holding it in both hands
Walked towards the river bank
And put it in the lap
Of the river, watching it
Join other such offerings,
Made by devotees and kin
Of loved ones gone
A long time or just
The night before.
It was a trip
Long overdue,
To say final goodbye
To my ma and dad,
For I was not with them
When they breathed their last
For reasons beyond my control
Of which they had no clue.
I felt sad,
And missed them bad.
One day feeling desolate
I shared my grief,
Loss and longing
With a dear friend.
Ever compassionate,
She held my hand
And said, let go
As the soul feels in earthly bondage,
Let them rest in peace.
That day in the last week
On that day in the last week of December,
I sat at river bank
Watching the turbulence…
Sun light scattered on
The bouncing waves
Northward bound,
As if the river knew
Where it was going.
Somehow I felt calm
To see it in motion
As I took some water
In my cupped palms.
Ever since, I know
They live in me
At all times
As sure as I know
I am alive as I breathe.
Now I wonder
Why did I grieve
For so long?
We built memories
To last a life time.
I
poem by Mamta Agarwal

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