The River and the Dam
The river flows down the hill,
Till it finds it is slowing
The dam stands as tall as a mill,
To stop the river from its flowing
The water accepts its fate,
Yet it rises as it waits
The dam stands it's ground
The river never finding a way around.
The river flows once more my friend
The dam did break and shall not mend
poem by Drew Fisher

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River Feeling
River feeling is
As simple as
Closing your eyes
For a moment.
Everything flows like river
River feeling is
As smooth as
Everything after
The first step.
Everything flows like river
River feeling is
easy as forgetting
Walking boots.
Everything flows like river
River feeling is
nice as
iron ties
Coming off.
Everything flows like river
Everything flows like river
Everything flows like river
Everything is good and flows
like river
poem by Julian Mann

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Where The River Flows
Music : rudolf schenker
Lyrics: klaus meine
Under suburban skies
Where life is bleeding
Where concrete skies are grey
Theres plenty of room for dreaming
I still keep coming here
Follow those traces
I travel back in time
Remember all those places
Feels like I never left
The houses still standing
Down by the river where
The dreams are never ending
You find me
You find me
You find me by the river
You find me
You find me
You find me where the river flows
Under the silent moon
This industrial city
Is heartland even though
Lifes been not that pretty
I still keep coming here
To that old river
To find my roots just where
The future lives forever
You find me
You find me
You find me by the river
You find me
You find me
You find me, you can find me
By the river where dreams will never die
By the river under suburban skies
You find me
You find me
You find me by the river
You find me
You find me
You find me where the river flows
By the river where dreams have never died
By the river I look through childrens eyes
You find me
You find me
You find me by the river
You find me
You find me
You find me where the river flows
You find me
You find me
You find me by the river
You find me
You find me
You find me where the river flows
Where the river flows
Where the river flows
Where the river flows
song performed by by Scorpions

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The River, Grace
Lift me up,
Take me down
From my rack.
Suspended on meat hooks
Just under my shoulder blades,
The weight of me hangs.
The river comes to me.
The river flows on.
Grace wakes up,
Says, “I will watch with you
We will be watchers
Together.”
Take me down.
Let the river run
Through my wounds;
Cleanse;
Heal.
The river comes.
The river flows.
Wash out all the refuse;
Toxic trash flushed away
Forever from me
Clear
Free
The river comes.
The river flows.
Fill me up with goodness.
Purity, rush into these holes;
Saturate in light, then
Stop up the access,
Make me whole.
River, come to me.
River, flow on.
And the river is God’s Gift.
And the river is Grace.
Lay me new baptized
In the tall grass
On the bank
Let me hear
Talking light
Beat back the night.
They sing of your source,
Your redemption renowned.
Now I join the chorus.
And the river, God’s gift,
Lift me up.
And the river, Grace
Carry me on.
poem by Lee Ann Schaffer

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The River of Blood
It’s the river of blood
Initiated by the enemies of God
And when advised too or told to stop
They just give you the nod
The nod of ignorance and cruelty
The nod of no life and no feel
As they are told about they’re evilness
They believe that none of it is real
It’s the river of blood
That flows down a dark and red stream
And as I dip my hand in, it feels like sour, bitter cream
It’s the river of blood
The river of cruelty and pain
The river of blood
The river that flows in vain
The river that will never end
The river full of the dead
The river where they remain silently hopeless
The river where the majority of them bled
It’s this river of blood where I inject my power and strength from
It’s this river full of blood where my victory will soon come
The river of blood, the river that will soon contain me
It’s this river where my blood has long sought to be
The river of blood that shall soon end with an atrocious fight
The river of blood, the river that will no longer stay at sight.
poem by Marria Attar

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Beautiful River
And he showed me a pure River of Water of Life, clear as crystal, proceeding out of the Throne of God and of the Lamb." -- Rev. xxii. 1
Shall we gather at the river
Where bright angel feet have trod;
With its crystal tide forever
Flowing by the throne of God?
CHORUS.
Yes, we'll gather at the river,
The beautiful, the beautiful river --
Gather with the saints at the river
That flows by the throne of God.
On the margin of the river,
Washing up its silver spray,
We will walk and worship ever,
All the happy, golden day.
Yes, we'll gather at the river,
The beautiful, the beautiful river --
Gather with the saints at the river
That flows by the throne of God.
On the bosom of the river,
Where the Saviour-king we own,
We shall meet, and sorrow never
'Neath the glory of the throne. Cho.
Yes, we'll gather at the river,
The beautiful, the beautiful river --
Gather with the saints at the river
That flows by the throne of God.
Ere we reach the shining river,
Lay we every burden down;
Grace our spirits will deliver,
And provide a robe and crown. Cho.
Yes, we'll gather at the river,
The beautiful, the beautiful river --
Gather with the saints at the river
That flows by the throne of God.
At the smiling of the river,
Rippling with the Saviour's face,
Saints, whom death will never sever,
Lift their songs of saving grace. Cho.
Yes, we'll gather at the river,
The beautiful, the beautiful river --
Gather with the saints at the river
That flows by the throne of God.
Soon we'll reach the shining river,
Soon our pilgrimage will cease,
Soon our happy hearts will quiver
With the melody of peace. Cho.
Yes, we'll gather at the river,
The beautiful, the beautiful river --
Gather with the saints at the river
That flows by the throne of God.
poem by Robert Wadsworth Lowry

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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

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The River of Rivers in Connecticut
There is a great river this side of Stygia
Before one comes to the first black cataracts
And trees that lack the intelligence of trees.
In that river, far this side of Stygia,
The mere flowing of the water is a gayety,
Flashing and flashing in the sun. On its banks,
No shadow walks. The river is fateful,
Like the last one. But there is no ferryman.
He could not bend against its propelling force.
It is not to be seen beneath the appearances
That tell of it. The steeple at Farmington
Stands glistening and Haddam shines and sways.
It is the third commonness with light and air,
A curriculum, a vigor, a local abstraction . . .
Call it, one more, a river, an unnamed flowing,
Space-filled, reflecting the seasons, the folk-lore
Of each of the senses; call it, again and again,
The river that flows nowhere, like a sea.
poem by Wallace Stevens

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The River Must Flow
(the river must flow)
I love you, youre the one that I adore
And no man could love you more
Its like a river that flows to the sea
I need you like the jasmine needs the rain
Let your water cool my pain
Just like a river that flows to the sea
Thru love I will find the meaning of you
All my natral dreams will come true
Its like a river that flows to the sea
Thru love I will find a meaning in life
But the rain must fall down tonight
And like a river that flows to the sea
Oh yeah, the river must flow from me
(the river must flow)
From me
(the river must flow)
Youre a falling star burning in my heart
Ah,ah
Thru love I will find the meaning of you
All my natral dreams will come true
Its like a river that flows to the sea
Thru love I will find a meaning in life
But the rain must fall down tonight
And like a river that flows to the sea
Oh yeah, the river must flow from me
(the river must flow)
From me
(the river must flow)
(the river must flow)
(the river must flow)
From me (the river must flow)
From me (the river must flow)
song performed by by Gino Vanelli

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Long River
Where the long river flows
It flows by my window
Where the tall timber grows
It grows round my door
Where the mountains meet the sky
And the white clouds fly
Where the long river flows
By my window
Theres a tiny bird that calls
And he calls by my window
Theres a lonely tear that falls
And it falls round my door
But when the sun is high
Theres no time to cry
Where the long river flows
By my window
Now if only you could see
The closin of the day
If only you could be
Where the dawn breaks away
By the white cascade
Oh down in the glade
Where the long river flows
By my window
Well when this land was made
It was made full of wonder
But one womans love
I cant understand
And Id give it all to you
If her love were true
Where the long river flows
By my window
Where the long river flows
By my window
song performed by by Gordon Lightfoot

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Dams On The Cuyahoga
Just west
of the Lake,
meanders
the burning river.
The river
in my dreams.
The river on fire.
The river
that oozes
rather than flows.
The river
in which
a person
does not drown
but decays.
And there
the river sits,
waiting for me
to come back home.
poem by Holden Solo

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The River Flows
The river flows quiet and swift
It twists and turns as the waters drift
It branches and breaks—its fingers entwine
It grows and grows—snakes like a vine.
The river with the soft scent of a calm day
With the smell of clean—hanging—still—in the grey
And sweetness carried on the breath of morning
It caresses the river—the waters flowing.
The river—crystalline from winter melt
And sweet with the summer soon felt
It tastes of springtime—the season between
And flows the river—so blue and clean.
The river—its lazy trickle of water
The musical rhythm—the ocean’s daughter
It whispers and murmurs—a song of its own
Playing over and over—in continuous drone.
The river—so clear and cool
The water flows—the color like a jewel
Its soft arms embrace the shore
The river surging from the days before.
The river flows quiet and swift
It twists and turns as the waters drift
It branches and breaks—its fingers in twine
It grows and grows—snakes like a vine.
poem by Kailey Jennings

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My Love For You Is A River
My love for you is like a river
You can not tell how deep it is just by looking
You have to jump in and dive down deep
Even then you will never know
My love for you is like a river
You can not tell how strong it is just by looking
You have to ride the rapids and fall with the water falls
Even then you will never know
My love for you is like a river
You can not tell how far it flows just by looking
You have to travel with it to its end
Even then you will never know
Because this river has no end
It empties into an eternal sea
that goes on till the end of time
My love for you is this river
poem by Jamey Einrem

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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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Rwanda 1994
The Kagera River rises in Burundi blue
It sweeps down from the highlands green.
But then why the river runs red?
Why does it look so sinister?
It hauls the bodies of the dead
Its currents carry your sister.
The Kagera River rises in Burundi green
It flows wild to Lake Victoria blue.
But then why the river runs red?
There is no change in the weather.
Yet on the waters float the dead
The currents carry your father.
The Kagera River rises in Burundi white
It drags trees and elephant grass green.
But then why the river runs red?
The day sunny like another.
Yet the streams tow and haul the dead
The currents carry your brother.
The Kagera River rises in Burundi blue
It flows through Rwandan gorges green.
But then why the river runs red?
Why does the village camp smother?
It hauls the corpses of the dead
The currents carry your mother.
poem by Paul Hartal

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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

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Back up the Hill
As I walked down to the river today
I met a man with no legs in a chair
we spoke about life and he stood tall in a way
as I walked down to the river
As I walked on I met a blind girl
who gave me directions just over the hill
for someone like me who was lost she could see
as I walked on to the river
Down by the banks I met a small child
whose mother and father had recently died
and he splashed around with a heartful of life
down by the banks of the river
As I looked in the river I saw a young man
a reflection of me if you understand
who thought he would end it as he coudn't cope
as I looked into the river
Considering the people I met on the way
they didn't give up I heard myself say
and though I believed that I'd been through the mill
I laughed at the river, and walked back up the hill.
poem by Charles M. Moore

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At the River
Shall we gather at the river,
Where bright angel feet have trod,
With its crystal tide for ever flowing
by the throne of God?
Gather at the river!
Yes, we'll gather at the river,
The beautiful, the beautiful river,
Yes well gather at the river
that flows by the throne of God.
Shall we gather? Shall we gather at the river?
poem by Robert Wadsworth Lowry

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Please Do Not Ask Me How A River Feels
children bathe in the river.
we were children once, we bathe in the river
we float and go with the flow of the river
we lied to mother we were afraid of father
but we were children once and we bathed in the river
we all know how a river felt
throughout our bodies
time runs like a river how many times shall i tell you that
we had mud all over
we were once children we grow to be men
strong arms and swift feet
we caught fish
we claim to be men with responsibilities
we are still children at heart we still feel the rivers running on our skins
i know, i still know how a river feels
time does not know how to kill the feel of rivers
do not ask me then if i have forgotten the river
we are men with responsibilities we have gone away
far from what we are
the river still flows and it will never stop
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

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The River Flows
The river flows and moss grows
And I dangle my feet in the water
The water is cold, but so is my heart
As I sit and just watch time goes by
No place I have to go, no place to be
Time has passed too fast, as fast as the river flows
Who else has sat here and felt this way
Felt pain in their heart and soul
They don't understand, did they ever?
All the hurt down deep in my soul
The leaves sway with the wind
And the chill sets in
I know I must leave, I don't know where
Guess I'll find my way down the road
With tears in my eyes and a broken heart
I'll find my way back to somewhere
The river flows on and the moss will keep growing
Till someone else sits here
And remembers things like I do
And wish I had them all back
I leave in the night, goodbye to the river and moss
May each persons who comes this way
Find a peace inside like I did but on the way
I'll always remember that the river flows on and the moss grows.
Written by Jo Carey
Grand Rapids
Air -- "Bright Alfaretta"
Wild roved the Indians once
On the banks of Grand River,
And they built their little huts
Down by that flowing river.
In a pleasant valley fair,
Where flows the river rapid,
An Indian village once was there,
Where now stands Grand Rapids.
Indian girls and boys were seen,
With their bow and quiver,
Riding in their light canoes
Up and down the river.
Their hearts were full of joy,
Happy voices singing
Made music with forest birds,
They kept the valley ringing.
Indians have left and gone
Beyond the Mississippi.
They called the river Owashtenong
Where stands this pleasant city.
Louis Campau the first white man
Bought land in Grand Rapids.
He lived and died, an honored man
By people of Grand Rapids.
When Campau came to the valley
No bridge was across the river;
Indians in their light canoes
Rowed them o'er the water.
Railroads now from every way
Run through the city, Grand Rapids;
The largest town in west Michigan
Is the city of Grand Rapids.
poem by Julia A Moore

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