Canary Yellow Canoe
In my canary yellow canoe - my yellow canoe
I want to go tripping in my canary yellow canoe
The eastmain, coppermine, back river too
In my canary yellow canoe
In my canary yellow canoe - yellow canoe
I want to run rivers in my canary yellow canoe
The desmoines river, rupert river, george river too
In my canary yellow canoe
In my canary yellow canoe - mellow yellow canoe
I want to go tripping in my canary yellow canoe
Chebugema, peace river, resolute too
In my canary yellow canoe
In my canary yellow canoe - my elephant too
I want to go tripping in my canary yellow canoe
Churchill, yellowknife, ross river too
In my canary yellow canoe
song performed by by Gordon Lightfoot
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
Great Lake Canoe
Paddlin down the michigan
Catchin all the fish I can
Breathin holy air in my canoe
Groovin down superior
Takin taboos easier
Talkin with the lord in my canoe
Send me no pillows I can dream on
Ive seen all the nightmares I can bear to see
Gotta find the river to your kingdom in my canoe
Many moons on erie lake
Not a bottle of beer to break
Heaven knows I try best I can do
Maybe lake ontario
Gonna take me where I hope
Got to find the lord in my canoe
Paddlin down the michigan
Catchin all the fish I can
Breathin holy air in my canoe
Send me no willows I can weep on
Ive done all the crying I can bear to do
Lookin for the tributary to your kingdom
In my canoe.
song performed by by Gino Vanelli
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Shadow In The Water
man in a canoe on hot water
paddling away enjoying a good day
shadowed by a giant shark in the water
true colours this guy has a seriously scary shadow
dark black shadow circles banana canoe on calm sea
sun on naked back yellow shadow turquoise water
man madness consumes everything alive
at end of day who is apex predator prey?
sharks prey consume to eat to survive
poem by Terence George Craddock
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The Yellow Ribbon On The Old Oak Tree
who can forget the yellow ribbon
on that old oak tree? tell me.
tomorrow, i shall wear my yellow cap
my yellow shirt, my yellow brief,
my yellow pants.
my jaundiced eye, my golden yellow ring.
tomorrow, in my country, the sky is yellow.
all steps lead to the yellow brick road.
all fruits are ripe and mellow and yellow.
Tomorrow, the country is yellow.
Yellow for integrity, Yellow for change.
Yellow for justice. Yellow for truth.
One day more, and the sun shall rise
Yellow as ever.Yellow forever.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Missing Couple
Beginning unknown:
Still the canoe floated
The calluses paddled.
Sunny days and moonless nights
I have watched them floating
On the river meandering.
The canoe rose and fell
On the wavelets ten thousand times
During the springs.
Black the hairs were;
Many winters passed;
Now snow white being exposed.
Narrow escapes
From the maelstroms unexpected,
And forward floated.
A long voyage; two together;
Funeral feast smells;
They drink to the lees.
A long missing; I think I see them again
Rest under the holy banyan tree;
Empty canoe tied to the tree.
poem by Fabiyas M V
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On Lac Sainte Ireneé
ON Lac Sainte Ireneé the morn
Lay rimmed with pine and roped with mist.
The old moon hid her silver horn
In shadow that the sun had kissed.
One went by like a wandering soul,
And followed ever,
By reed and river,
The silent canoe of the lake patrol.
On Lac Sainte Ireneé the noon
Lay wolf-like waiting by her hills.
No voice was heard but the sad loon
And the wild-throated whip-poor-wills.
But one went by on the bitter flaw,
And followed ever,
By rapid and river,
The swift canoe of the white man's law.
On Lac Sainte Ireneé the moose
Broke from his balsams, breathing hot.
The bittern and the great wild goose
Pled south before the sudden shot.
One fled with them like a hunted soul,
And followed ever,
By ford and river,
The little canoe of the lake patrol.
On Lac Sainte Ireneé the blue
Vast arch of night was starred and deep.
No footsteps scared the caribou
Nor waked the wolverine from his sleep.
Loosed indeed was the hunted soul,
And homeward ever,
By rapid and river,
Slipped the canoe of the lake patrol.
poem by Marjorie Lowry Christie Pickthall
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Muskegon River
Floating down the river in a canoe
Left the world behind, just your family and you
Ten miles of paddling, around river bends
Passed downed logs, turtles, and wrens
Watching dragonflies chasing around
The river gets shallow, and we run aground
We get out and set our canoe afloat
Then help the guys, unstuck their boat
We “DUCK” as we float under a tree
Just the four of us, my family and me
We come to a place, where people reside
Ducks fly and crayfish hide
Past seawalls, we come around the bend
We can see it, the launch at the end
It’s a mad dash, back to the shore
The water is flying and so are the oar
8/9/9
poem by Rhonda Baker
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Curiosity Killed The Cat
I remember so well
Watching a cat at the balcony,
Reaching for my caged canary.
He purred and taunted the canary
And flailed his persnickety paws
In a mad flurry of jousts.
The wind waltzed over the cage
And the dwindling of it
Made the cat’s head writhe from
One flourish after another.
He purred, whirred and gave
Out sighs of desperation
But still he was stern in his feline physique
That smoldered of poise and starvation.
One mad summer, while the Sun
Took photographs of his exhausted self,
The cat finally grasped the beam of
The cage - the canary sang of consummation.
But the next riddle was how to
Open the cage where the canary sat.
The canary continued to croon the
Symphonies of a cat preparing
His canine fangs, his woebegone claws
To consume the canary -
But what the cat did not understand
Was that the canary was bastioned
Adroitly behind these rusting pillars.
The wind gains force, and its savagery
Was ready for a bastinado.
The wind darted across the lingering
Body of the cat as it was hectic
With frantically opening the cage,
Poor cat fell from the balcony,
Plummeted into the city
He made no sound,
Only impressions upon the cage
As the untouched canary
Sang of deceit.
poem by Windsor Guadalupe Jr
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Yellow Man
Very far away in a foreign land
Live the yellow woman and the yellow man
Hes been around for many-a-year
They say they were there before we were here
Eatin rice all day
While the children play
You see he believes
In the family
Just like you and me
Oh, yellow man, oh, yellow man
We understand, you know we understand
He keeps his money tight in his hand
With his yellow woman hes a yellow man
Got to have a yellow woman
When youre a yellow man
song performed by by Randy Newman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Red Canoe
De win' is sleepin' in de pine, but O! de
night is black!
An' all day long de loon bird cry on Lac Waya-
gamack-
No light is shinin' by de shore for helpin' steer
heem t'roo
W'en out upon de night, Ubalde he tak' de
red canoe.
I hear de paddle dip, dip, dip! wance more I
hear de loon-
I feel de breeze was show de way for storm
dat 's comin' soon,
An' den de sky fly open wit' de lightning
splittin' t'roo-
An' 'way beyon' de point I see de leetle red
canoe.
It 's dark again, but lissen how across Waya-
gamack
De tonder 's roarin' loud, an' now de mount-
ains answer back-
I wonder wit' de noise lak dat, he hear me, le
bon Dieu
W'en on ma knee I ax Heem save de leetle red
canoe!
Is dat a voice, so far away, it die upon ma hear?
Or only win' was foolin' me, an' w'isperin'
'Belzemire?'
Yaas, yaas, Ubalde, your Belzemire she 's
prayin' hard for you-
An' den again de lightning come, but w'ere 's
de red canoe?
Dey say I 'm mad, dem foolish folk, cos w'en
de night is black
An' w'en de wave lak snow-dreef come on Lac
Wayagamack
I tak' de place w'ere long ago we use to sit, us
two,
An' wait until de lightning bring de leetle red
canoe.
poem by William Henry Drummond
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Re-voyage
What of the days when we two dreamed together?
Days marvellously fair,
As lightsome as a skyward floating feather
Sailing on summer air--
Summer, summer, that came drifting through
Fate's hand to me, to you.
What of the days, my dear? I sometimes wonder
If you too wish this sky
Could be the blue we sailed so softly under,
In that sun-kissed July;
Sailed in the warm and yellow afternoon,
With hearts in touch and tune.
Have you no longing to re-live the dreaming,
Adrift in my canoe?
To watch my paddle blade all wet and gleaming
Cleaving the waters through?
To lie wind-blown and wave-caressed, until
Your restless pulse grows still?
Do you not long to listen to the purling
Of foam athwart the keel?
To hear the nearing rapids softly swirling
Among their stones, to feel
The boat's unsteady tremor as it braves
The wild and snarling waves?
What need of question, what of your replying?
Oh! well I know that you
Would toss the world away to be but lying
Again in my canoe,
In listless indolence entranced and lost,
Wave-rocked, and passion tossed.
Ah me! my paddle failed me in the steering
Across love's shoreless seas;
All reckless, I had ne'er a thought of fearing
Such dreary days as these,
When through the self-same rapids we dash by,
My lone canoe and I.
poem by Emily Pauline Johnson
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Canary In A Coalmine
First to fall over when the atmosphere is less than perfect
Your sensibilities are shaken by the slightest defect
You live you life like a canary in a coalmine
You get so dizzy even walking in a straight line
You say you want to spend the winter in firenza
Youre so afraid to catch a dose of influenza
You live your life like a canary in a coalmine
You get so dizzy even walking in a straight line
Canary in a coalmine
Now if I tell you that you suffer from delusions
You pay your analyst to reach the same conclusions
You live your life like a canary in a coalmine
You get so dizzy even walking in a straight line
Canary in a coalmine
First to fall over when the atmosphere is less than perfect
Your sensibilities are shaken by the slightest defect
You live your life like a canary in a coalmine
You get so dizzy even walking in a straight line
Canary in a coalmine
song performed by by Police
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Flyin Down The Freeway
(kinky friedman)
Well, its retro rocket time inside my attic
Im all wrapped up in the flag to keep me warm
Got my brain locked in the cruise-o-matic
Rollin ronnie reagan in suppository form
Flyin down the freeway
Jettin down to l.a., it sets me free
Going back to nature in my jew canoe
Flyin down the freeway all the way with you
Ill tell the maharishi that Ive seen ya
Im a-travelin east until I know Im free
Ill take the midnight flight to british guinea
Aint nobody casting asparagus on me
Flyin down the freeway
Jettin down to l.a., it sets me free
Going back to nature in my jew canoe
Flyin down the freeway all the way with you
Ill get a mule and be a flat land farmer
Grow a little bumper crop of grass
In hollywood Ill total my karma
Im gonna cast my seed upon the ground
Gonna covet my neighbors ass
Im flyin down the freeway
Jettin down to l.a., it sets me free
Going back to nature in my jew canoe
Flyin down the freeway all the way with you
Well, past the pipe of peace in our abode
Buried in the ruins of mexico
Well dip some snuff in mainline guacamole
Well listen to the opry upon the radio
Flyin down the freeway
Jettin down to l.a., it sets me free
Going back to nashville in my jew canoe
Flyin down the freeway all the way with you
song performed by by Kinky Friedman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Do not kick away the canoe which helped you to cross the river.
The river is my brother for it carries my canoe.
Native American proverbs
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A canoe peddler doesn't tell the crocodile he has along snout until he's crossed the river.
The Departing of Gluskâp
It is so long ago; and men well-nigh
Forget what gladness was, and how the earth
Gave corn in plenty, and the rivers fish,
And the woods meat, before he went away.
His going was on this wise.
All the works
And words and ways of men and beasts became
Evil, and all their thoughts continually
Were but of evil. Then he made a feast.
Upon the shore that is beside the sea
That takes the setting sun, he ordered it,
And called the beasts thereto. Only the men
He called not, seeing them evil utterly.
He fed the panther's crafty brood, and filled
The lean wolf's hunger; from the hollow tree
His honey stayed the bear's terrific jaws;
And the brown rabbit couched at peace, within
The circling shadow of the eagle's wings.
And when the feast was done he told them all
That now, because their ways were evil grown,
On that same day he must depart from them,
And they should look upon his face no more.
Then all the beasts were very sorrowful.
It was near sunset, and the wind was still,
And down the yellow shore a thin wave washed
Slowly; and Gluskâp launched his birch canoe,
And spread his yellow sail, and moved from shore,
Though no wind followed, streaming in the sail,
Or roughening the clear waters after him.
And all the beasts stood by the shore, and watched.
Then to the west appeared a long red trail
Over the wave; and Gluskâp sailed and sang
Till the canoe grew little, like a bird,
And black, and vanished in the shining trail.
And when the beasts could see his form no more,
They still could hear him, singing as he sailed,
And still they listened, hanging down their heads
In long row, where the thin wave washed and fled.
But when the sound of singing died, and when
They lifted up their voices in their grief,
Lo! on the mouth of every beast a strange
New tongue! Then rose they all and fled apart,
Nor met again in council from that day.
poem by Sir Charles George Douglas Roberts
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A Canary, And Peanut Butter, And Jelly, Sandwitch.
I once ate a sandwich made of peanut-butter and jelly...
This sandwich, by someone, tasted quite rotten, and smelly.
Into my stomach, uneasily, it went down...
To my face, was sadly, put a frown.
I went to the hospital to have my stomach pumped, where I met a sailor...
Who obviously, had a bad tailor.
You might say, 'that this lad, was a seaman'...
But-for the Navy, he worked, and so-he was no, free man.
This seaman, could not swim...
You might say 'that he joined, on a whim'.
This non-swimming seaman, had a cat...
That was known by all, to eat mice, dogs, or even a bat.
One day this cat, ate a bat, that was owned by a witch...
This witch, got quite angry, at the cat that ate her bat, and
was acting like, a ticked off, bitch.
This witch, turned this cat, into a canary...
How frightening to this canary, this seemed as scary.
Now, this canary, bird...
Got eaten by another cat, and now, was nothing more,
than a rug stained, cat-splattered, turd.
poem by Michael Gale
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Yellow Camaro
And the wheels of motion will move fine
God bless the U.S. assembly line
It's a game and you play with hi-octane
It's the pace of the race, and you are following
Right on
Yellow Camaro
Yellow Camaro
With freedom of eagles you soar high
God bless you're a mess before you try
It's a shame that you've done such a dumb thing
It's the pace of the race, and you are following
Right on
Yellow Camaro
Yellow Camaro (Oh no)
Oooh Right on
Yellow Camaro
Yellow Camaro (Oh no)
song performed by by Weezer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Yellow School Bus
The yellow school bus with the black wheels took sick children to school each day.
The yellow school bus with the black wheels was driven whether or not the sky was gray.
The yellow school bus with the black wheels went pass three streets and up a hill.
The yellow school bus with the black wheels was driven whether sunny or chilled.
The yellow school bus with the black wheels always brought a smile to little kids face.
The yellow school bus with the black wheels was filled with love and filled with grace.
The yellow school bus with the black wheels kept breathing until that final breath.
The yellow school bus with the black wheels was painted red with blood and death.
The yellow school bus with the black wheels and the little sick children were all of friends.
But the now dead children will never take a ride in the yellow school bus again.
poem by RaShawn Ince
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The Songs Of The Canadian Canary
got a friend and i named her
my canadian canary
she is caring
and sends me some gifts
perfume
for my body
fish oil for my heart
some haiku
for my day
some emails to remind me
some pictures
and paintings of spring,
and some winters too
and oh, the summer
and the worm
and the peony on her table
concrete friendship
from my canadian canary
and how can i not return
what she has given
she never asked me
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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