Renda Writer - Wednesday
I'm floating
Down the river
Wondering
What the river's made up of
What's it a metaphor for?
What's it all for?
The silence is enjoyed
And implied
Relied upon
As a scapegoat
I'm floating
And she's driving
And the old one
Catches wind of the sin
We both cry
And hang up
Knowing we'll speak again Wednesday
poem by Renda Writer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
Aqueous Transmission
Im floating down a river
Oars freed from
Their homes long ago
Lying face up on the floor
Of my vessel
I marvel at the stars
And feel my heart overflow
Further down the river
Two weeks without my lover
Im in this boat alone
Floating down a river
Named emotion
Will I make it back to shore?
Or drift into the unknown
Further down the river
Im building an antenna
Transmissions will be sent
When I am through
Maybe we can meet again
Further down the river
And share what
We both discovered
Then revel in the view
Further down the river
Im floating down a river
song performed by by Incubus
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Down The Nile
Lying right beside you all the things we done
This I didn't plan now I understand we're one
We belong together no more time to fight
Underneath the skin we can let it in and float it through the night
And I aint never been here before
And you you , you come and knock on my door
(chorus)
Floating down that moonlight river
Lighter than a child
Warmer than the seven breezes
Floating ~ floating down the Nile
Softer than the clouds around us
Filling up my eyes
Silky like your burning kisses
Floating ~ floating down the Nile
song performed by by Heart
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Free River
Free River flow, Free River
so cold, Free River
you’re getting old.
Free River don’t cry, Free River
you’ve run dry.
I still see you through my youth’s eyes.
Free River you told no lies, Free River
your path has been made, Free River
all things change.
Free River you made it to the sea.
The friends I swam with once
are now gone, left only me.
Free River you’re worth more than gold, Free River
I've grown old.
I’ve lived by you my whole life and
I’ve left my seed through my wife, Free River
I lie at your shore; now dry,
Free River it’s my time to die.
poem by Patrick Dumas
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
185
A sad song I whistle in the air
Like a river floating
And then the strong wind comes
My hat flies away
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A Sad Song I Whistle
A sad song I whistle in the air
Like a river floating
And then the strong wind comes
My hat flies away
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A Silent River Part2
Sunday is a holiday
I'do again
I'makes again
The memories of the silent river
I'come again
To remember
I'have ever love and miss
Here in the silent river, silent so silence
The memories of the silent river
I'felt his love again in this river
I'felt his longing again in this river
I'felt his kindly again in this river
And i'see again his softly face in the water
In this silent river, silent so silence
The silent river
Makes me remember
I'miss again
the silent river
Makes me to get so many things
Sitting nearby silent river
Come to me the lonely
Come to me the long yearning
Come to me the tears
Come to me the rain
The silent river keep my memories good
In the silent river, silent so silence
Save me now, from all the dejected
To spin around all back
This silence is geeting on my nerves
Were i'am so afraid
You were to be lost in thought
And all was lost to me
Here in the silent river, silent so silence
Where Is The River?
Where is the river?
Is it here
Or somewhere else
Where is the river?
Is it here
Or hidden under the ground
Where is the river?
Is it here
Or safe inside the cave
Where is the river?
Is it here
Or still far away
Where is the river?
Is it here
Or up above the cloud
Where is the river?
Is it here
Or out of our reach
Where is the river?
Is it here
Or trickling on the rock
Where is the river?
Is it here
Or gathering in the pool
Where is the river?
Is it here
Or down over the cliff
Where is the river?
Is it here
Or just sight of illusion
Where is the river?
Is it here
Running in your eyes
Where is the river?
Is it here
Or sudden flood in the road
poem by Maria Sudibyo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Floating Fence
Floating life
Floating fence
Floating talk
Floating air
O my dear, look
The sky is near
And the sky is fixed
Look, Our love is fixed
And it is in eternity
Respect love
Respect faith
We are made for
Each other
We are made for
Welfare of all.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Poetics 4...
good for you man
you are lucky
filthy rich they say
when you are filled
with guilt
you fly to thailand
and ride one
of its boats on the
mekong river
you float upon the
murkiness of your
thoughts
that is good
your neighbor touches
his chin
and nods
people here have been
killing themselves
as though they have
nine lives like
the legendary cat
of course even with
nine lives
because of that hasty
hate
they never ask
whoever
that they come back
and begin their
beings again
so no one has ever
spoken inside
that dream
no one haunts like
a horror story
everyone speaks about
a certain silence
hints about a slim sorrow
it is a world of
anything goes of
anything said
but there is nothing
really direct as
flat as a wall with
white paint all over
there are sketches, etchings,
somethings
come-ons, let go's
no one minds at all
everyone is busy
wanting to understand
but no one really
does
the real thing
swans floating on the river
butterflies floating on air
dirigibles exploding finally
over the news...
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Dead Fish Speaking For İtself
the best evidence
of that dead fish
is its body bloating
and stinking
floating on the
murky river
the rage of the river
tries to report the sad story
to the deep
blue sea
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Road That Runs Beside The River
follows the river as it bends
along the valley floor,
going the way it must.
Where water goes, so goes the road,
if there's room (not in a ravine,
gorge), the river
on your right or left. Left is better: when you're driving,
it's over your elbow across
the road.
You see the current, which is
what the river is: the river
in the river, a thing sliding fast forward
inside a thing sliding not so fast forward.
Driving with, beside, the river's flow is good.
Another pleasure, driving against it: it's the same river
someone else will see
somewhere else downstream -- same play,
new theater, different set.
Wide, shallow, fairly fast,
roundy-stone streambed, rocky-land river,
it turns there or here -- the ground
telling it so -- draining dull
mountains to the north,
migrating, feeding a few hard-fleshed fish
who live in it. One small sandbar splits
the river, then it loops left,
the road right, and the river's silver
slips under the trees,
into the forest,
and over the sharp perpendicular
edge of the earth.
poem by Thomas Lux
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Iinto My Heart
Into my heart a river is flowing
Its roars are not heard, urging
Like a overfilled bowl it's flooding,
There starts soul's hurting.
At its banks the flood is beating,
Its dirt and stones are floating.
In the water swans are swimming.
Their secrets the waves are sharing
One day I'll not be able to rein it,
One by one my patience breaks
Destructing its river-bed once,
This river floods out of my eyes.
poem by Uktamoy Khaldorova
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Where Go the Boats?
Dark brown is the river,
Golden is the sand.
It flows along for ever,
With trees on either hand.
Green leaves a-floating,
Castles of the foam,
Boats of mine a-boating -
Where will all come home?
On goes the river
And out past the mill,
Away down the valley,
Away down the hill.
Away down the river,
A hundred miles or more,
Other little children
Shall bring my boats ashore.
poem by Robert Louis Stevenson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Stop Is Such A Taboo In The World Of Inspiration
in the world of inspiration where
the fireworks come like an everyday feast
in the world of colors like dusk and twilight
and summer nights and auroras of the stars
and the silvery moon sliding on the shiny river,
the word 'stop' is a taboo, for in the world of imagination
where everything comes and goes
like the snap of a finger or the blink of an eye
the world is a long, and wide, and winding river
without banks and ends
with a mouth always opening to the sea beyond this horizon
where everything that floats and swims along with it
is taken and made a part of the beautiful world
of sights and sounds
and space and sense
in my world there is only the ceaseless flow of freedom
of thought, no one stops me
i may rest for a while and take a look at something that catches
my attention like the burst of red oranges in the sky
and too,
like that creature
that person that takes a mutual look
once in a while, a pause,
a comma, a hyphen
but then, i am back to the world of the river
the world of clauses and dashes,
flowing, floating, flowering
forever flowing, unstopping, unceasing, always going and going
and on and on and on, to the flowing waters of the soul.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Man Beside Me
now we are sailing on a
bamboo raft
floating on a silk river
bound to the other
side
except for the man
with a long bamboo pole
to touch the floor
and push us more
there is this man
beside me murmuring
his face is covered
by the shadow of his
big straw hat
the natives respect
him thinking that he
is god sent
knowing the words of
the mountain gods
who give them rain
after the drought
he chatters the song
of the cicadas
he murmurs the heaves
of the rain
finally he stops and
hands in the silence
of the rocks
that protrude in the
middle of the river
the waters rise
flood rages on
and i begin to hear
another song
of the incoming storm
then we arrive at the other
side of the river
this time we have become
one in the fold of the
fury asking the protection
of the mountain's belly
the morning news shall
tell about two men who
are fuming the seeds of
discontent of the plains
and the city
we have no names here
just coincidences
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Eventually
I met a man
And talked about you
He seemed like a man from Osaka I knew
And he listened while I told him how you hurt me
And he consoled me when he told me he'd been hurt too
And he said we are inter-dependent
And the effects on each other never ending
And that the air has no boundaries
I think this water that surrounds me
Is the same water soaking through to you
So what comes floating to me
Eventually
Will come floating back to you
What comes floating to me
Eventually
Will come floating back to you
I had some tea
With a gal from Paris
We talked about life, sex, love and poetry
And you can't help it
Your name came up again
And she said man those kind of guys
Really know how to steal all of the oxygen
And I said we are inter-dependent
And the effects on each other never ending
And that the air has no boundaries
I think this water that surrounds me
Is the same water soaking' through to you
So what comes floating to me
Eventually
Will come floating back to you
What comes floating to me
Eventually
Will come floating back to you
I have a friend I confide in
He always says doll you got to learn not to lead with your chin
But you can't help it
It all comes up again
And then you have your fill
And your spill reaches down as far as a flood
So what comes floating to me
Eventually
Will come floating back to you
What comes floating to me
Eventually
Will come floating back to you
Eventually
Eventually
Will come floating back to you
Eventually
Eventually
song performed by by Cyndi Lauper
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Meggie Sue
Floating down
An endless river
Passing dive
Touching whatever
Never knowing where you're going but still living every
Moment that counts
Stand and linger to see
Meggie Sue is free
Dont speak
She just wants to be
Over waves
Up and down
Does not matter
She lives unbound
Consequences pose no threat for she is rising and not
Looking down
Stand and linger to see
Meggie Sue is free
Dont speak
She just wants to be
Stand and linger to see
Meggie Sue is free
Dont speak
She just wants to be
song performed by by Vanessa Carlton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Sunset On The River
Sunset On The River
Sunset on the river
I ate salad and enjoyed the view
Of soft summer breezes
And my conversations with you
Tomorrow will be sunny
With temperatures that delight
In the evening we'll dine on our deck
And welcome in the night
Sunset on the river
Makes the end of a hot day seem fine
Especially knowing that tonight
We'll sleep with our arms entwined
Jim 1998
poem by James Casey
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The River That Murmurs
I will ask the river, that flows serene
I will speak to the sky
I will ask the river that murmurs
Not to ask me why
I cannot speak for myself.
That time has long since passed me by.
The river can murmur and sing
Unspent by passion: my voice
Will break like a terribly taut string.
My words will be grammatically and academically
Twisted (like that leafless tree) , unfortunately!
I want the river to speak, to speak
Alone, alone with thee.
The river can, softly and without tears
Tell you my dreams and my fears
I know you will listen:
And while city lights in the water glisten
You wont see the tears that shine on my face
No, that is a serious, sentimental place
That only I know;
Flow, river, flow.
Flow, river flow.
Speak to the only love I know.
Daybreak approaches soon
You and he by the light of the moon
Will murmur whilst I -
Will wait for you to bring me his reply.
poem by Rani Turton
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Restlessness In Stillness....
....because i am discontented
here i am making it my own way, because no one remembers
here i am remembering me,
because.....
no one satisfies my hunger and thirst here i go
trekking my way
into everywhere, and tired, and
disappointed, here i am
making a set of wings for me,
these wings without the feathers of a bird,
these wings without need of
a wind,
because i feel so alone, here i am, inventing
company,
i give birth to words, and sentences
myself with
all its punishments,
this newly found joy in the prison of my thoughts
in the vast expanse
universe of my endless and
limitless imagination
this self without a river
this river without water and stones
this floating
existence
an angel without a wing
because i am never appeased
here i am exploding my own firecracker
a boy driving his demons away
with the use of one finger
because i have more to say
in this fear
here i am unceasingly writing
who knows if i finally find you and then
i can absolve myself and after telling everything
i can finally find
my own resting place
here i am, silent and still and staring.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!