Still Waters / Early Morning
Fishing boats still tied up
By dripping weed laden ropes
To a barnacle covered jetty
A heron steps grandly among the shallows
As jackdaws squabble among the rocks
While against the sheltering wall
Of the old boat house
A family of ducks sleeps on
And as no ripple disturbs the still surface
So that all that's above, can be seen below
But only as dark shadows.
poem by Marilyn Shepperson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Ducks On The Wall
After dinner norman becomes depressed.
Star:
Normans office got on my nerves to-day.
Wife:
What do you mean? you are norman!
Star:
(shouts) I am a star!
Wife:
Youre not a star norman. youre
Just a plain ordinary little bloke and
Even if you walked down the street in
A silver suit people still wouldnt
Recognise you. youre dull, ordinary
And uninteresting! youre a drag!
Star rises from his chair and smashes
The dinner plates to the floor.
Star:
I hate this house and I hate you, but
More than anything else I hate those
Ducks!
Wife:
Dont you touch those ducks norman!
They were a present from my mother.
Look, norman, Ive had enough of you
And your ridiculous fantasies. first of
All you wanted to be a painter, then
You wanted to be an astronaut, then
A footballer and now youre playing at
Being a rock singer. if you touch those
Ducks Im leaving!
Ducks on the wall
My babys got the most deplorable taste,
But her biggest mistake
Is hanging over the fireplace.
Shes got ducks, ducks on the wall,
Ducks, ducks, hanging on the wall.
My ladys got a sort of strange fascination,
An obsessive fixation
For cheap decorations
Shes got ducks, ducks on the wall.
Ducks, ducks, hanging on the wall.
Wo-wo-wo I love her so but if she doesnt move the ducks,
I think my mind is gonna go.
Ducks ducks on the wall.
Ducks ducks, hanging on the wall.
I leave the office and I want to relax.
Dont want to stare at a wall
And look at a duck that cant quack.
I love you baby but I cant fall
For those ducks on the wall.
I start to snuggle up and squeeze her so tight.
Then out of the corner of my eye
I see those ducks in flight.
I love you baby but I cant ball
When I see those ducks on the wall.
Wo-wo-wo I can sit through your gossip and your soap opera shows,
But those ducks have got to go.
I love you baby but I cant ball
When I see those ducks on the wall.
And when I went to a cocktail party
With the bores next door,
What was the first thing that I saw?
Ducks, ducks on the wall.
Ducks, ducks hanging on the wall.
My babys got the most deplorable taste,
But her biggest mistake
Is hanging over the fireplace.
Shes got ducks, ducks on the wall,
Ducks, ducks hanging on the wall.
Ill sit and look at all the soap operas with her
Ill play all the panel games and watch all the quiz shows,
But those ducks theyve got to go,
Those ducks are getting up my nose.
If those ducks can fly, well so can i.
And if those ducks have got to stay
Then Im going to fly away.
I love you baby but I cant ball
When I see those ducks on the wall.
Ducks, ducks, ducks on the wall.
Ducks, ducks, ducks on the wall.
Oh those ducks on the wall are beginning to move
Theyre talking to me
Ive got to get away from those ducks.
song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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At Hout Bay the fishing trawler sails out
At Hout Bay the fishing trawler sails out
while the rain pours down
like water out of God’s hosepipe
with engines roaring in the ears
and clouds of smoke hang over the boats
with every fisherman for a moment being caught
in a own world while fog whirl about the boats
that rocks up and down to the harbour mouth.
The waves crash, the sea foams and bubbles
and “my girlfriend has a good lover, ”
is sung by one while the trawler sets its course
on the look out for barracouta, cod and sea trout.
“Look at the shining bodies, tons of trout, they are running free, ”
a fisherman shouts against the wind that pulls and pulls on the boat.
“Salmon man, salmon” roars the tiller man back and walls of water
roll past and the boat turns to get fishing gear ready.
“My girlfriend has a good lover and he’s a gelded goat, ”
the tune goes on and something clatters down
drawing the attention of the fishermen and the water shines
and when the boat is full they tell jokes that they guffaw at.
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Katrina: The Shrimpers Tried Their Best
Twilight sprinkles mist over October waves...
Ribbing docks, straining through nets...
Into sunset boats waiting for tides...
Wishes of months vanishing in weeks...
When brown water seethes, barren
As ash...no one knows, as ropes loosen
Again...
The night harvest will be dreams in waking
Sunrises...nets empty, dripping water...
Bridges open, shut, open once more...
It is only October. Cold. Seagulls keep
Boats company by sunset again...
Flying, sweeping, well fed...
On their own, soaring down on unwary
Fish, too-slow crabs...empty shadows
Shred into webs of too-soon
Family Holidays...yet,
Children always laugh, after little fingers
And eyes forget the presents
Still in stores.
poem by Elysabeth Faslund
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I Had Been To This Sea Sometime Before (Catena Rondo)
I had been to this sea sometime before
where water stretch out beyond from the bay,
it had been on a tranquil summer day,
I had been to this sea sometime before
where water stretch out beyond from the bay,
the surge swells before it crushing breaks
while a tiny boat rocks upon the wake
where water stretch out beyond from the bay,
the surge swells before it crushing breaks
with some shells and sand swept out everywhere
before deeper in the water we both dare,
the surge swells before it crushing breaks
with some shells and sand swept out everywhere
while you smile in a way that I adore
we hear the thundering on a distant shore
with some shells and sand swept out everywhere
while you smile in a way that I adore,
we both swim through the crashing pull and flow
trying to find a way back, a way to go,
while you smile in a way that I adore
we both swim through the crashing pull and flow
it feels if our world is suddenly gone
while still together we do struggle on
we both swim through the crashing pull and flow
it feels if our world is suddenly gone
while we do see only the sky and sea,
we are trying to get back, to be free,
it feels if our world is suddenly gone
while we do see only the sky and sea,
we are blinded by a distant kind of sun,
hear the engine of a fishing boat run
while we do see only the sky and sea,
we are blinded by a distant kind of sun,
as an unknown, sheltering bay we reach,
as we both stagger out upon a beach
we are blinded by a distant kind of sun,
as an unknown, sheltering bay we reach,
we embrace and you stroke my hair gently;
a rich boat owner looks at you, smiles at me,
as an unknown, sheltering bay we reach,
we embrace and you stroke my hair gently,
we ride on a boat that rocks up and down,
but still we are in a world our very own
we embrace and you stroke my hair gently
we ride on a boat that rocks up and down,
I had been to this sea sometime before,
while we kiss each other and kiss some more;
we ride on a boat that rocks up and down,
I had been to this sea sometime before
where water stretch out beyond from the bay,
it had been on a tranquil summer day;
I had been to this sea sometime before.
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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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Fishing house
Memories are grumbling.
The kettles are rumbling.
Fishing house, where the boats float innocent waves.
Glow reflected by the water,
Sandy seabed, my eyes remind.
Of the grey mullet fish, and furry cat fish.
Crabs hide and seek, stones and reefs,
So pure currents within the water stream.
Under the bridge, the seaweed adorns
the rumours of waves slamming pillars.
A boat passing near,
sail the nets and hunt the eels.
Ropes become tangled,
where dry seahorses running no more.
The recall of the water, reflect the nets that I drown,
to catch the girl I loved.
poem by Luca Menin
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Trout
High mountains
cold and dark against night
Shuffling feet
along heavy planks of pier
Pulling ropes of bow and stern
Tiny boat undulating
to currents of moon-lit waters
Fishing tackle stowed
poles boxes bait
livelings wriggling in sawdust
cheese balls in oil
and dancing metal lures
to sparkle feint and run
Casting off by oar
Pulling at the tiny motor
Rope and crank rope and crank
Choke and rope
Chug sputter chug adjust
sputter whirr
Clanking of metal against metal
Cutting straight toward the deep
into the quiet
A muffled skimming
Waves slapping prow
Ball caps life preservers
coffee soft drinks sandwiches
They are off for the game
of fishing
before sun rising
to dropp enticers into deep
running spinners in shallows
They play the game
of reading trout
father and son
and being quite possibly
as close as they
can ever be
poem by Tom Courtney
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Safe Harbour
As the light starts to fade, at the end of the day,
And the last rays of sunset cascade on the bay.
The fishing boats set sail, their little lamps a glow,
Off to deeper waters and the school of fish below.
Along the granite, harbor wall, the lime washed cottage stands,
The little wind swept coastal path to the causeway and sands.
At the point a lighthouse giving out its light,
Protecting the wayward mariner as he sails on through the night.
For generations have come and gone, it’s always been that way,
As tide rolls in with the fishing boats that signals break of day.
poem by Nicholas Windle
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Port Albert
The silver gulls mewing in the Village, the fishing boats moored to the pier
The gentle waves break at the jetty in fancy these scenes to me near
The last time I was in Port Albert the black and white bird known as pee wee
He piped in the afternoon sunshine on a flowering pittosporum tree.
Port Albert in Southern Gippsland doesn't change with the passing of time
A fishing Village by salt water the bards by it inspired to rhyme
The artists have captured it's beauty on canvas for to hang on the gallery wall
And all of those who have paid it a visit the memory feel glad to recall
The last time I was in Port Albert in September in early Spring
On a day of bird song and sunshine that memory to me seem to cling
A warm wind blew in from the ocean it was such a marvellous day
A gift from the Goddess of Nature to me for to carry away
From the fishing Village of Port Albert that developers yet have to find
The Utopia of Southern Gippsland are words for it that spring to mind
In the old cafe in the Village we enjoyed cappucino and cake
And I will re-visit Port Albert if only just for old time sake.
The silver gulls mewing on the jetty, the sun shining bright in the sky
As we drove on out of the Village this time it would not be goodbye
For I will return in September in the early days of the Spring
When magpie will pipe on the gum tree and blackbird will whistle and sing
poem by Francis Duggan
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Fishing Boats
Weathered boards on the old dock
Sun trying to peak thru
The water like a sublime dream
Seagulls circle the boats
You were there with your humor
With your easy going smile
You loved to take people fishing
Soon I will go into memory
The waters will always laugh
Lakes, rivers and sea
Poetry of the tides
Campfires and moonlight
Old man and the sea
Get the net I gotta big one!
Your fishing boat in the dusk
poem by Joseph Narusiewicz
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Stand In The Shadows
Hearts which beat to a precise beat
Fading shadows on the wall
We'll cut our cards
Drive out bars
All for one, one for all.
Like teenage heat
And carnival cheats
With your heart on your sleeve
Well you know you wanna run
You won't hide
And you jump like a son of a gun
Do not stand in the shadows
Do not stand in the shadows
Do not stand in the shadows
Do not stand in the shadows
Oh alone and lonely
Watching people on my wall
Well mama and dadda thought they had me fooled
I was thinking not at all
Well i got out
Not gonna stand
In the dark without a light
Forgetting love if you believe that chance
Sit and wait
Do not stand in the shadows
Do not stand in the shadows
In the shadows
Do not stand in the shadows
Do not stand in the shadows
Do not stand in the shadows
Do not stand in the shadows
And now the judge is down feeling
All around yeah
Lifting to a blast this sound
No preachers, teachers
Pick our minds
To the sounds of false alarm
They're here today
And they hear you say
You're alive and you're living with me
So don't try to hide
And don't try to die
In the dark of the night
Do not stand in the shadows
Do not stand in the shadows
Do not stand in the shadows
Do not stand in the shadows
Do not stand in the shadows
Do not stand in the shadows
In the shadows, in the shadows
Do not stand in the shadows
song performed by by Billy Idol
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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(Do Not) Stand In The Shadows
Hearts which beat to a precise beat
Fading shadows on the wall
We'll cut our cards
Drive out bars
All for one, one for all.
Like teenage heat
And carnival cheats
With your heart on your sleeve
Well you know you wanna run
You won't hide
And you jump like a son of a gun
Do not stand in the shadows
Do not stand in the shadows
Do not stand in the shadows
Do not stand in the shadows
Oh alone and lonely
Watching people on my wall
Well Mama and Dadda thought they had me fooled
I was thinking not at all
Well I got out
Not gonna stand
In the dark without a light
Forgetting love if you believe that chance
Sit and wait
Do not stand in the shadows
Do not stand in the shadows
in the shadows
Do not stand in the shadows
Do not stand in the shadows
Do not stand in the shadows
Do not stand in the shadows
And now the judge is down feeling
all around yeah
Lifting to a blast this sound
No preachers, teachers
Pick our minds
To the sounds of false alarm
They're here today
And they hear you say
You're alive and you're living with me
So don't try to hide
And don't try to die
In the dark of the night
Do not stand in the shadows
Do not stand in the shadows
Do not stand in the shadows
Do not stand in the shadows
Do not stand in the shadows
Do not stand in the shadows
In the shadows, in the shadows
Do not stand in the shadows
song performed by by Billy Idol
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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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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4th Chorus Mexico City Blues
Roosevelt was worth 6, 7 million dollars
He was Tight
Frog waits
Till poor fly
Flies by
And then they got him
The pool of clear rocks
Covered with vegetable scum
Covered the rocks
Clear the pool
Covered the warm surface
Covered the lotus
Dusted the watermelon flower
Aerial the Pad
Clean queer the clear
blue water
AND THEN THEY GOT HIM
The Oil of the Olive
Bittersweet taffies
Bittersweet cabbage
Cabbage soup made right
A hunk a grass
Sauerkraut let work
in a big barrel
Stunk but Good
poem by Jack Kerouac
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Your Fishing Pole
There is something about you, something in your soul
something that seems to surround your fishing pole….
You moved to the coast, now that’s no lie
And we had a hard time with that little goodbye
But no need for heartache, no need to console
You had your boat and your fishing pole.
You know everyday you go out to fish
it’s like a genie granting every little wish
every time that bobber goes out of control
we know you are happy with your fishing pole.
Now on birthdays it’s special out on the water
I hear if you’re there, they’ll jump for the slaughter
You’ll be piling them in like your lucks on a roll
Reeling them in with your fishing pole
So today of all days take heed and relax
Pack up a cooler with drinks and some snacks
put on your shoes and go take a stroll
Down to your boat with your fishing pole.
poem by Kathleen J. Shields
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The Fisherman's Boat
I am tied to a pole
In me came and sat a fisherman with a big mole
He had a fishing rod and a net
With a bucket and bait so wet
He untied me and rowed me
Into the deep sea
And with rod, net and bait
He caught fish till late
He went home with a big fish
To prepare and eat a tasty dish
Tomorrow again he’ll come wearing his overcoat
To untie me, his little fishing boat.
poem by Niharika Singh
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Night on the West River
No moon
To light my way upon the stair,
Cold comfort
In the wine I drink alone.
Black clouds,
Rain,
The hurried flight of birds,
Water flowing grayly
In the dusk.
A rising storm,
Boats tugging at their mooring ropes.
Or s ails full-spread
To take advantage of the wind.
A moving point of fire
In the dark,
The distant lantern
Of a passing boat.
Sunrise Along Shore
Athwart the harbor lingers yet
The ashen gleam of breaking day,
And where the guardian cliffs are set
The noiseless shadows steal away;
But all the winnowed eastern sky
Is flushed with many a tender hue,
And spears of light are smiting through
The ranks where huddled sea-mists fly.
Across the ocean, wan and gray,
Gay fleets of golden ripples come,
For at the birth-hour of the day
The roistering, wayward winds are dumb.
The rocks that stretch to meet the tide
Are smitten with a ruddy glow,
And faint reflections come and go
Where fishing boats at anchor ride.
All life leaps out to greet the light --
The shining sea-gulls dive and soar,
The swallows whirl in dizzy flight,
And sandpeeps flit along the shore.
From every purple landward hill
The banners of the morning fly,
But on the headlands, dim and high,
The fishing hamlets slumber still.
One boat alone beyond the bar
Is sailing outward blithe and free,
To carry sturdy hearts afar
Across those wastes of sparkling sea;
Staunchly to seek what may be won
From out the treasures of the deep,
To toil for those at home who sleep
And be the first to greet the sun.
poem by Lucy Maud Montgomery
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Honey, I Took The Fishing Boat
I took the boat out fishing,
and didn’t tell you that I went
Then before I knew it
all my fishing time was spent
Some angels pulled me over
and said that I must dock
I wasn’t even startled
so I must have been in shock
They wouldn’t let me make a phone call
just said they’d let you know
Then they said, “ Lay down the fishing poles”
and to heaven we did go
They dressed me in a flowing robe
I guess I’m in the choir
I sing a decent alto
but I can’t go much higher
Well, looks like I’m here to stay,
so you must follow aft
Don’t worry that I took the boat
I did leave you the raft
poem by Rosie McFadden
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