If a man does not know to what port he is steering, no wind is favourable to him.
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Nostalgic wind takes me homebound
Facing strong wind and heavy rain today.
All the vessels in the harbor secured safely.
And the Tugs are in their weather-watch
in case of emergency.
Like a tigress the horrible wind comes
how soft when she is normal
chime like wind bells.
I heard a ship was calling from afar
she is heading to another port
humbly request a shelter in anchorage
until the bad weather get settled.
Though I am alert in the port
I feel like a ship in her pitching & rolling
in the deep sea.
And the the strong wind take me home.
Oh! my loved ones at shore
and I can see them waving happily.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Flowers in the Wind
Fortunate flowers ferment in favourable ways,
They grow utterly beyond control, ways are unlimited;
The stalks dance in the wind for they are soft
And the breezes turn shy of them,
For they are lucky to be washed.
The wind has washed the petals as well
And their clothing has arrived
With a burial, as it seems.
Fortune with plants is not of with animals,
The air is wind, the flowers are blown over with anger
As they have been unduly complimented.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Landscape 23 Come Away!
When I was young and the wind was right
I could hear the foghorns down on the Thames
The great sea-voices of the ships
Coming into the Port of London
Bass siren songs in slow harmony
Calling me to faraway places
Now both the port and I have moved
And these mournful calls just a memory
But sometimes at night when the wind is right
I can hear the freight train’s horn
A mile of freight cars hauling west
And the old wanderlust stirs faintly
poem by Stewart McKenzie
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Wise Counsel
there is more than one way
of doing most things
often a little forethought
can resolve problems
provide better solutions
more favourable alternatives
a little planning good will
goes a long way
sometimes it is better
to think before we act
the teacher taught models
of favourable solutions
when the teacher walked
among us you did not listen
when the teacher left words
of wisdom you did not read them
when will you decide
to listen follow wise counsel?
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Port Adelaide
It is the great City of Port Adelaide
Where heroes are born and legends are made
In the Australian Football League they have their own football team
For to play for Port Adelaide many Port teens do dream.
A place where Indigenous and white Australia meet
And different races live on every street
The Indigenous tribes had their corroborees long ago
By the trees near the banks where the Port waters flow.
Many nineteenth century buildings in Port Adelaide remain
Which one does suppose goes in part to explain
Why so many visitors come to that Town
Port's history is far more than football renown.
The Port river dolphins are famed far and wide
One can see them surface from the harbour side
A tourist attraction and it would be fair to say
That seeing them has made many a vistor's day.
Where the cultures meet Indigenous and European
Port Adelaide a Town where all races are seen
When in South Australia I feel at home there
Few Towns with Port Adelaide can hope to compare.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Eavan's Grandma
She feared the women
at the port when her
husband's ship docked
there the port.
She went to the port
to see her husband
each time he arrived
I like the man
and the wife.
'Aren't they
the same kind of girls
anyway? ' he thinks,
she doesn't know it.
(Oct.5,1997)
poem by Sangnam Nam
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A Fake World
You, I thought were my true friend
Loved you more than my own little brother
Never did treat you indifferently
However, you are just like others
You go with the wind and follow it
Actually, I thought you will forever remain same
Never ever you will change, I really thought so.
It hurts so much and I cannot express it in words
Thought that you will forever be true to our friendship
Sometimes, I just feel like crying
Although, I do know that it is no use
Since, you do not care
This is another error of having so much faith in someone
Thought, you were my true friend
Will never care about anyone anymore, since a true friend is nobody
All that people do, is go with the wind
Till the wind favours them, they are with it
The moment the direction of the wind becomes less favourable
Everyone stops following it
It hurts, to actually feel this feeling
Nobody cares, it is a fake world.
poem by Rohit Sapra
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USS Zydecoldsmobile
You can feel the horses under the hood
Through thick and thin pull us out of the wood
She's the smoothest ride, yeah, you'll ever feel
She's the Delta slide of automobiles
Double clutchin' on the backseat
I hear you, yeah, with your main squeeze
Playing triple row accordian fills
In the USS ZydecOldsmobile
Port of Call Opelousas
Port of Call Lawtell
Port of Call Frilot Cove
In the USS ZydecOldsmobile
Mardi Gras run block the road
Park the car and join the show
Get up on the trunk and dance at will
Aboard the USS ZydecOldsmobile
Port of Call Opelousas
Port of Call Lawtell
Port of Call Frilot Cove
In the USS ZydecOldsmobile
Yeah, Spirit moves through everyone
We have faith and we have fun
God bless the turning wheel
Of my USS ZydecOldsmobile
Port of Call Opelousas
Port of Call Lawtell
Port of Call Frilot Cove
In the USS ZydecOldsmobile
Come ride with me in my ZydecOldsmobile
Double clutchin' with me in my ZydecOldsmobile
Hip shakin' with me in my ZydecOldsmobile
Come ride with me in my ZydecOldsmobile
song performed by by Jimmy Buffett
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Window Through The Mind
I saw my face in the window
ghostly pale within the window
steering straight through me.
A translucent face;
amidst the depths of emptiness
steering back through me.
Is that my face in the window
as I am yet to be?
If that’s my face in the window
I’ve nothing to fear
in the interim
of the realm that’s yet to be.
The hand of strength
is evoked in me,
inflamed
with sight to see.
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Anzio
Sad port of Anzio
you sadden me
Gardens and flowers
bathed in brindisi
melancholy.
Fragola cloud
dissolving around
grotto and villa.
Stone feeding billow
lapping stone.
Sad, strange elegy
of wind and sea-spray
entangled by
gone laughter and
the lovers' cry.
Drowsy rose
abed in salt air
far too heavy for
your stem to bear
with dewy tear.
And you sad, scintillating
scythe of moon,
you ship adrift,
bewitched, without a port
without a home
wound and bless
with homesickness;
chill like a breath
from the vast abyss
my heavy heart.
Sad port of Anzio
into my soul you send
resistless restlessness
and such imperfect peace
that in the end
I'm like a man
in an alien tomb
buried beyond repair
in a foreign land
in a soil not his own.
poem by Robert Dickerson
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If one does not know to which port one is sailing, no wind is favorable.
No wind can do him good who steers for no port.
No wind serves him who addresses his voyage to no certain port.
quote by Michel de Montaigne
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Port Burwell
About a quarter of a century ago, when Port Burwell was a
busy, thriving place, several friends accompanied me to
the port to attend a concert, we all being specially invited.
It was in the winter, and there had been a race on the
ice, in which the Port Burwell horse took the lead. We
gave a local piece of some length, but only retain now a
few lines. The people at the concert were highly pleased
with the effusion.
In winter time, who here resort
To pay a visit to your famous port,
They must be clad in fur well,
For it blows cold at Burwell.
But when you wish to trot your horse
You make lake Erie your race course,
And we believe at every heat
All other horses you do beat.
poem by James McIntyre
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Until We Meet Again
The flourish of love between us
began when we first met
an accident in passing lives
that kept us securely bound,
but now the time has come
as it did a long time before
when I will once again
have to leave these lovely shores.
Before I go, I’ll promise
that we will meet again
and you will be within my heart
every step along the way
until we meet again
and once more,
we will gaze into one another’s eyes.
Take care in all that you do
and with a favourable wind behind our sails,
the day will soon come
when we will meet again.
29 October 2009
poem by David Harris
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Pirate Story
Three of us afloat in the meadow by the swing,
Three of us abroad in the basket on the lea.
Winds are in the air, they are blowing in the spring,
And waves are on the meadow like the waves there are at sea.
Where shall we adventure, to-day that we're afloat,
Wary of the weather and steering by a star?
Shall it be to Africa, a-steering of the boat,
To Providence, or Babylon or off to Malabar?
Hi! but here's a squadron a-rowing on the sea--
Cattle on the meadow a-charging with a roar!
Quick, and we'll escape them, they're as mad as they can be,
The wicket is the harbour and the garden is the shore.
poem by Robert Louis Stevenson
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To reach a port we must sail, sometimes with the wind, and sometimes against it. But we must not drift or lie at anchor.
quote by Oliver Wendell Holmes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Bonny Port of Sydney
The lovely Port of Sydney
Lies laughing to the sky,
The bonny Port of Sydney,
Where the ships of nations lie.
You shall never see such beauty,
Though you sail the wide world o’er,
As the sunny Port of Sydney,
As we see it from the Shore.
The shades of night are falling
On many ports of call,
But the harbour lights of Sydney
Are the grandest of them all;
Such a city set in jewels
Has ne’er been seen before
As the harbour lights of Sydney
As we see them from the Shore.
I must sail for gloomy London,
Where there are no harbour lights,
Where no sun is seen in winter,
And there are no starry nights;
And the bonny port of Sydney—
I may never see it more,
But I’ll always dream about it
As we view it from North Shore.
poem by Henry Lawson
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Steering From the Helm
Steering from the helm.
I could be shifted and overwhelmed,
From the position I firmly stir...
As navigator.
Accustomed to unpredictable winds,
Alerting me to obstacles and oppostion...
I may face in preparation to brace,
This 'ship' I command.
And stand I do in anticipation,
To embrace Sun.
Freed and released from any tension,
If and when it should come.
Equipped with this in full acknowledgement...
That 'anyone' steering from the helm,
Could be shifted and overwhelmed...
From the position stirred,
As navigator!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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