Best Boatmen Poems
Oh Ganga! river so revered
your holiness purifies deep
if thy essence we let in seep.
From lord Shiva's hair you appeared
down the mighty Himalayas
quenching the thirsty souls pious.
Yamuna, Saraswati neared
to merge with you at Triveni
Sangam of pilgrimage many.
Together all joyously cheered
by peasants and boatmen alike
before in sea you slowly dyke.
Your ambrosial waters so cleared
granting boon to even sinners
writing history of winners
Oh Ganga! river so revered
From lord Shiva's hair you appeared
Yamuna, Saraswati neared
Together all joyously cheered
Your ambrosial waters so cleared.
Note:
Ganga, Yamuna, Saraswati rivers' confluence takes place at Triveni near Allahabad. This confluence is also called Sangam in Hindi.
25.7.2020
Categories:
boatmen, river,
Form:
Rhyme
I wander about
like a fish out of water
in the surf blue sea
Me a traveler
in the congress of gray rocks
where carcajous howl
A vacant lot mind
wavered in the breeze empty
land soul never rests
Heart sighs seeks haven
warm breasts of the beloved
in my country home
I see the river
boatmen singing love ballad
flows out of water
Out of Water - Poetry Contest
Sponsor Sheri Fresonke Harper
Categories:
boatmen, sad,
Form:
Haiku
Ol’ brazen Brenda, battlin’ biography,
Banters bewildered brave boatmen at sea,
Brushstrokes besieging her beleaguered brain,
Broadsided by fiction now baking insane;
Balanced between both broken and brilliant,
Buried by sorrow, bereft not resilient,
A ballyhooed author, back in the day,
‘Fore Brian betrothed her then drowned near the bay;
Basking bereavement, believing though more,
Books barely bound newly found in the store,
‘Betaken, Broad Beauty’, Brenda’s new write,
Beveled bare bitterness abruptly bright;
Barreled, brought breathless by Bernie, beloved,
A character boating where dead Brian shoved,
As buckets with bottoms knowing no end,
Begging attention did Brenda’s mind bend;
Blended for sanity, befuddled realities
Born when begins a life without boundaries,
Betterment bellows because Brenda’s words,
Boxed-up betrayal beneath binding boards.
9/18/2016
Categories:
boatmen, confusion, heartbreak,
Form:
Alliteration
A warm sultry summers night, a silver crystal formed in
the corner of an eye. Trickled and rolled a gentle cheek,
fell to earth where all was dry. Whence it touched the
ground did speak, an Orchid bloomed of vibrant hues,
reds and whites, the palest blues. The Tear catcher dabbed
the bluest eye, a smile pursued a gentle sigh. The catcher
kissed is favourite friend, his purses full to the night did
blend..
Eerk, eerk the frog he croaked, help us Flora the pool is
choked, eerk, eerk and off he hopped, Flora followed
her duties swapped. By the pool, eyes in moonbeams
danced, their love of Flora is well romanced. Flora, Flora
help us please, the pool is choked by a blue disease. The
fish gasped and gulped for air, wildfowl preened their
feathers fair, otters, voles in a sticky mass, frogs and
toads could not pass. The sedge, the reed, heads did fall,
marigolds and lily's, threatened by this seedy sprawl.
With her hands she ceased the breeze, asked for quiet
from the trees. Beckoned all the spiders to the waters
edge, north to south along the sedge. Said to the spiders
cross your legs, spin, spin with all your might, those
silver threads strong and tight. To the Water Boatmen
she said pull, pull, until your net is full. Water Beatles
heaved and toiled, with insect life the water broiled.
Dragonflies with smaller nets collected dregs, Toads
and Frogs flipped with longer legs. The Newts and
Fowl came to assist, where once was dark the moon
it kissed. Across the pool the Voles and Otters pulled
away, most did work but some did play. To the sticky
web the Algae clings, behind a bright blue water sings.
The silver net was dragged well clear, all had helped
from far and near.
Flora asked the breeze to bring the clouds, left a message
for the sun to hide his head, but to keep her friends warm
in the shade. For without the rays the Algae would die,
and all would be peace and beauty before the eye. Dawn
was close, time for Flora to pat, stroke and kiss her pals
goodbye. She must return to the safety of the glade and
to the shade of the magic willow, her bed of moss and
Lavender for a pillow.
Categories:
boatmen, childrenwater, blue, silver, water,
Form:
spires stretch heavenward in a twilight sky
crimson hues and nighttime blues do battle
as people lope lazily over a dusky bridge
like cattle with cameras;
snapping the domed limestone giant
below, boatmen skim across a shimmering mirror
reflecting fragmented moments
cast down from the world above
floating like flotsam; lifeblood
coursing through the city’s stone heart
amid those masses, we watched
the shadows grow steadily longer
and balls of soft lamplight glow gently brighter
until, suspended in the darkening air
they floated like no post was there
then, just like that -
the city shrugged off day’s last light
wrapping herself in the mysteries of night
where amorous wishes and twisting seine scenes
led to candlelit kisses and solitaire dreams
Categories:
boatmen, anniversary, devotion, family, love,
Form:
Free verse
Written: July 04, 2023
______________________________________________________________
A respected river, your holiness sublime.
Purifies within if we let your essence seep.
From the powerful mountains, you climb
Pious and deep, it cures thirst spirits, creep
We all joined in a loud wave of ovation.
Farmers and anglers exploit it commonly.
Before you slowly dyke into the ocean.
Your pristine oceans are just heavenly.
Favoring even those who have sinned.
I've begun to write a tale of keen people.
Your purity is lovely, a river so revered.
You arose from the depths of a steeple.
Quenching the thirst of souls, from the abyss.
Peasants and boatmen, united in bliss,
Your presence is a source of joy and peace.
As we gather along your banks, we find release.
But as you journey toward the endless sea,
Our hearts ache, as we agnize you must leave.
Yet your holiness remains, forever to foresee
Waters, so pure, cleanse our souls, we believe.
Categories:
boatmen, analogy, appreciation, beauty, water,
Form:
Rhyme
Seven thousand islands grace the shore
as narra trees arise , sun -dressed
with ripples humming a native folksong--
gracious the womenfolk, caressed
by Philippine beaches ever idyllic--
and exotic garlands spill from their baskets
crowning fiestas with decorative wares.
And boatmen wave to relish town’s gaiety
the canoes sailing in May's fluvial parade;
when wavelets of joy twirls, animated
along dewy coastlines… such heritage bears
the name reflecting its grandeur, 'Pearl of the Orient.'
My dawn and night broth, this homeland
where birthmark prints…a natural wonder of the world!
(your) Country 'tis of thee' Contest
Sponsor: Brahn Bailey Edited 9/3/2018
Categories:
boatmen, environment, home, ocean,
Form:
Free verse
Young Barred Jeff the hair once heired and was bard
from Barred Bare Camp cause when bear he was hard.
Neigh,said he in the bairn wear the auld stud nayed,
Owe, eye oh fare Merry her fair must bee paid.
Her fair's dew her an' eye'll faint with me stave.
The auld counselor feinted ass Jeff misbehaved.
My stave is like ewe just ask Merry's made
oar ask the yew in the dew; she'll bleat what eye said.
Barred Jeff maid a song witch told of his whiles
it went on two long wile marry Merry beguiled.
Know boatman with or, oar blacksmith can boar
wench better, he said, of this eye am sure.
Perhaps, a black stallion, perhaps a bold bore
butt, barred Jeff beared was the won who scored.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Young Bard Jeff the heir once erred and was barred
from Bard Bear Camp cause when bare he was hard.
Nay said he in the barn where the old stud neighed,
Oh, I owe fair Mary her fare must be paid.
Her fare's due her an' I'll feint with me stave
the old counselor fainted as Jeff misbehaved.
My stave is like yew, just ask Mary's maid
or ask the ewe in the dew it'll bleat what I said.
Bard Jeff made a song which told of his wiles
it went on too long while merry Mary beguiled.
No boatmen with oar, or blacksmith can bore
wench better, he said, of this I'm quite sure.
Perhaps, a black stallion, perhaps a bold boar,
but, Bard Jeff bared was the one who scored.
Categories:
boatmen, funny,
Form:
Sonnet
Under the depths below the deep
of this Atlantic Ocean
live the lobsters that crawl and creep
with an articulated motion.
On the ocean that smells so fresh
the boatmen cast their nets
for lobsters' tender, tasty flesh
which they'll sell to pay their debts.
With a great catch this new season
the boatmen head for home;
the frozen lobsters give them reason
to reach harbor and not to roam!
In restaurants and sold at stores,
the lobsters are enjoyed
till all on New England's shores
are full and over-cloyed.
Categories:
boatmen, deep, imagery, ocean, sea,
Form:
Lyric
wildflower meadow
as tall as a muntjac
cuckoo cuckooing
-
farmers haymaking
grasshoppers stridulating
don't touch a stinkbug
-
wood admiral glides
honeysuckle its host plant
humid the hot nights
-
warm is the river
fish rising leaping for flies
life seeking cool shade
-
inverted swimmers
water boatmen taking in air
cygnets follow pen
-
as fall approaches
swifts are well on their way
second brood blackbirds
-
hungry mosquitoes
human siestas a nap
insect repellent
-
sunbathing insects
flowerflies hovering free
mowers thrashing lawns
-
farmers cutting hay
a smell not forgotten
wildlife be afraid
-
sunbathers warning
cream up or suffer sunburn
worse melanoma
-
swifts immature
three years on the wing
unbelievable
-
sand martins nesting
adorning soft sandy clifts
freshwater skimmers
-
dragonflies masters
watch them fly backwards a thrill
kingfishers posing
-
super hot weather
droughts not good for wildlife
reprieved... thunderstorms
-
climate warming
both poles can't take the heat
humans all sweating
-
a countryside walk
on a warm sunlit day
foxes sunbathing
Categories:
boatmen, june, nature, summer, sun,
Form:
Haiku
I can see it shining so brightly
So white against the Venetian skies
From which a last view is seen by some
As they kiss freedom goodbye
Just like my heart wavering on the brink
of happiness, pondering the yes and knows
The yes of wanting to float and not sink
The no of letting freedom go
It is nearly sunset the bells sound out as
the boatmen sing their songs
The sun is rapidly disappearing
they kiss and know they belong
Tradition is that a kiss at sunset
Just as the sun goes down
Brings untold happiness
From that moment on
A local legend says that lovers will be granted eternal love and bliss if they kiss on a gondola at sunset under the Bridge of Sighs as the bells of St Mark's Campanile toll.[
Categories:
boatmen, desire, love,
Form:
Rhyme
To crouch beside him in the rows,
Counting seeds beneath rainbows.
Three in each hole, I’d count with glows.
He let me help; his garden grows.
To sell the pears he grew and picked.
Red wagon wheels click-click, clacked, clicked.
One penny each, the price was strict.
The neighbor kids their fingers licked.
To shave his beard while on the couch,
To hear his words; those never grouch,
And tales of ghosts for whom he’d vouch.
Yes, all of this without one ouch.
To sit beside him while he sleeps
In quiet stillness without child peeps,
Until, alas, his scare would creep.
Awake he snored; was not asleep.
Or hear the tales of where he’d been
His work on waters with boatmen,
Three busy tugboats from docks to glen.
Granddad, my hero, way back when.
To hear his laughter once again,
Reliving days that were back then.
Alas, his death brought my chagrin.
I live to hug him once again.
Copyright January 14, 2013
Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen
(Forever Families, God taught the way
Grow pure love of Christ everyday.
That’s what the L.D.S. people say.
I live my life to hug granddad someday.)
Categories:
boatmen, childhood, family, feelings, fun,
Form:
Rhyme
I DON’T WANT HIM
by
JOHN M. ARRIBAS
I’m Pontius Pilate and here’s something I need to share
As of this moment I wash my hands of the entire affair
You’re saying this guy’s a heretic meddling in all we know
Heard he’s asking questions threatening the status quo
Started a riot at the temple all the money lenders felt
Holding up the faithful and relieving them of their gelt
And what about that nonsense of raising up the dead
Feeding that great multitude with just a minor spread
Blessing the boatmen delivering great hordes of fish
I heard he’s walked on water a trait for me, I wish
He does all these wonders and never asks for gold
He claims his gifts are freedoms never bought or sold
Well okay fellows what is it you want me to do
Look the other way when the vig takers accuse a jew
I’ll convene a kangaroo court stacked with your friends
But the Romans will eat the blame when all this chaos ends
We’ll give the public a choice Jesus or Barrabas, the thief
Shills in courtyard will condemn him causing you no grief
Death for this interloper a menace to the institution
Death for these crimes crucifixion a common execution
Bound to a cross three days, before taking his last look
Thought they erased him but you can find him in the book
A joyous but sad lesson that everyone should know
This is what usually happens when you buck the status quo
Categories:
boatmen, betrayal, bible, corruption, evil,
Form:
Rhyme
Time is running like a silent speedy river
Colorful events are visible on its both banks
Sometimes they are charmless
Sometime they are of great interests......
Boatmen are crossing the rivers with passengers
Farmers are ploughing the fields of crops
Men are begging in serious poverty......
Why men become the sin of time
Why they do not become the virtue (of time)
Time is running with the tides in a flowing river
The river (of time) flows toward the future.......
Categories:
boatmen, river, time,
Form:
Light Verse
Look out over a pond's banks
what do you see down there
a smooth unruffled surface
things lazily flying round
A frog pops up its head and
perches basking in the sun
newts swim languidly about
a flash of colour deep below
Yet all is not as it seems
poor tiny herbivores fight
for their very existence
they are on the lunch plate
Savage diving beetles
water boatmen, striders
ravenous mayfly larva
all wait to dine on them
Tadpoles swiftly dart about
they are on everyone's menu
newts lay in wait then feast
life in a pond's no picnic
Everything is on someone's list
life in a pond is about who lives
eat or be eaten is the savage truth
no mercy given or none expected
Categories:
boatmen, fish, nature, water,
Form:
Free verse