Best Cormorants Poems
Boated through the tantalizing Kerala backwater
in a pleasant summer morning;
Coconut groves were adorning
our way and perky fishes were chased by river otters
Cacophony of the swaying lofty coconut trees
and the nearby evergreen plants
produced a mesmerizing chant
that certainly consoled the chaotic minds and appease
Majestic banyan tree with its spiraled pillar branches
enthralled the endemic birds
and the migrating animal herds
on the river bank, renovated the place into the ranch
Suddenly the boat entered into the hollow way
where tangled trees made archways,
and fallen flowers filled our pathways
welcomed us, it was such an unforgettable day
Reflections of the slender palm trees on the waters,
painted a flawless picturesque picture
with the kaleidoscope of colors and mixtures
Which was untapped only in the perpetual back waters
Coots and cormorants swiftly plunged into water
When they heard the sound of the boat
Tranquility of the place calmed the hysteria
and it led to the apocalypse of worldly emotions
Sep-9-2017
POTD on Sep 11 2017
I was so happy and I felt so blessed as I received this honour on the death anniversary of my favorite poet Mahakavi Bharathiyar.
I could not paint a better picture,
Than the one in front of me,
Of twists and turns of the canal,
Bordered by endless trees.
A warm day with a slight breeze,
Giving the grass moving shadows of leaves,
Multiple species of birds stop by,
Some on the ground, some in the sky.
Gulls, Terns and Cormorants dive,
For crustaceans and fish of various size,
While sparrows, robins and occasional chickadees,
Grab insects on the fly.
Parades of boats, barges and ships,
Fascinate and entertain our time,
Sitting by the canal is more than a pastime,
It's watching life at its prime.
Fishermen, bicyclists, joggers and tourists,
They enjoy this special place,
Taking it all in; they embrace,
Nature at its purest!
Once upon a time
My lady called
I stood mesmerized
At ocean’s cusp
Glinting, glimmering, gleaming
Thousands of sparklers
Dot her sequined dress
Shouting
Look at me!
Look at me!
Breathless ripples strew pebbles at shores edge
Cormorants perch on hips of slate
Eyes of diamond reflect starry nets
Starfish mouth warm honeycombs of tide pools
Waves of breast, milky white, feed the minions
Feet of clay glue her honeyed presence
Roaring, rumbling, ripping
Like the sea serpents
Who call her waters home
She crashes
Into shore’s stationary sentinels
Whose feet she laps unceasingly
Capricious as she is
This lady is not fickle
The meditative state
Which hypnotized and paralyzed
Is there
For your embrace
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2KIPWgFUFkI
Far away in the distance I see a light and suddenly
I want to follow
those inkling stars of beauty, in the gallow of my wishes
I hear a little voice inside that says,
Take me, take me, to unknown lands of mystery
fly me, fly me, o'er peaceful skies of every hue
Far away in the distance I see a light and suddenly
I'm missing you anew ;
Little rivulets accompany the quiet steps of sea
in pensive thought I tread, reflecting love anew
Why else would cormorants fly
if not for nigh and nigh
Far away in the distance I see you like before
a fading smile across your lips and suddenly,
you dissapear, behind the liquid stars,
away from me, away from me....
Words by: Pixie
How the wind plays
across the water
in changing patterns,
its skittish mood drawn
in ripples and rivulets
of sparkle under
a morning sun.
The small boats fidgety
at their moorings
as if roused by longings
of freedom,
cormorants riding
the unrest on bobbing prows
with outstretched wings
drying in the wind.
See how the day
is slowly being assembled,
putting itself together
with ferry boats
and dogs pulling on leads,
wired joggers, noisy children
in school uniforms
crowding at bus stops,
workers putting up signs.
How it all seems
to be following some hidden
script. And here I am, again,
walking the morning
looking for what I lost
in the long hours
of a sleepless night
when it doesn't
have a name,
being ushered by the wind
towards a somewhere
or nowhere at all,
helped along
my shuffling way
by a strange sense
of unhurried trust
that all will be OK.
For those avid crossword groupies of which I are one,
I'm offering free of charge vital data to add to your fun.
So you're stuck on 15-down for the name of a barren of mules!
Groups of creatures you can now name if you use this set of rules!
A group of apes is a shrewdness and a gang of asses is a pace.
Tigers are a streak and you'd better streak should they give chase!
Can you believe that skittish plovers are called a congregation?
(I wonder, perhaps Baptist, Lutheran, Catholic or other denomination?)
You might see a cackle of hyenas or a tower of giraffes at zoos,
Or if on a Kenyan safari a bloat of hippos or a fleet herd of gnus.
The name for a prickle of porcupines is an appropriate moniker for sure!
A sleek bunch of ferrets is called a business, and, why, I'm unsure.
Pesky squirrels are called a scurry and a warren is for rabbits.
(There are many warrens of rabbits due to their promiscuous habits!)
Badgers are grouped as a cete and leopards are known as a leap;
Moles are known as a labor and a herd or drove identifies sheep.
Parliaments of owls meet in trees and eagles in convocations.
Jellyfish waft about in smacks and peacocks strut in ostentations!
Screeching cormorants are a gulp which sounds mighty weird.
Steer clear of a crash of rhinos since they are to be feared!
Charming finches are called a charm and larks an exaltation,
Turkeys a rafter, frogs an army and starlings a murmuration.
Locusts are known as a plague and cockroaches an intrusion.
An unkindness of ravens and their raucous caws just causes confusion!
Groups of humans are known as Republicans, Democrats or Nazarenes,
Jerks and morons but this barely includes all human species by any means!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(c) 2014 All Rights Reserved
paddling out
in a stylised freezer container
sustainable propulsion
for a fossil fuel by-product boat
he floats into blue tranquillity
watching the bottom slide by
as rocks weeds and shellfish
give way to the unfathomable
he navigates his speck of flotsam
into a world
where cormorants bathe
and stingrays bask in the sun
his cares
stranded on a sandy beach
their urgency diminishing
in a shrinking line of importance
paddling into blue
his thoughts ripple
like wind gusts
stirring but brief
internally focussed
waves rise like an epiphany
dragging him in
to an uncharted future
A pair of brown grey
cormorants sit bobbing on
perky swells
Then ploink they disappear to
probe
The Hudson's murky hell.
Down in Dante's numbered
rings
They swim blinded by pollution
In the shadow of towering
testaments
To technological evolution.
I could not imagine there being
life
In a river so deathly still
Til up they popped with puffed
up throats
To swallow a tasty kill.
'Tis still beneath a cloudy sky
where the river’s flowing gently by,
Red Gums live an artists dream,
dead brothers… lifeless in the stream.
Reed beds brown along the bank
have winters chill now here to thank,
as does the willows, yellowed leaves
about to fall with freshening breeze.
Shadows blur below the shimmer…
There's a ring of waves, a leaping swimmer!
Wood Ducks glide before their wake
passed houseboats tethered to their stake.
Cormorants with laborious flight
interrupt a Noisy Mynah’s fight,
and Pelicans unmoving seem,
as they gently glide upstream.
The mist no longer rise’s white.
The sun breaks through with lemon light…
Bend in the river looks forlorn,
as day takes over from the dawn.
The foliage unruffled, the tree trunks utterly baffled
The reign of darkness all along
A nightly hoot of owl, the occasional growl
Of a tiger bold and strong
The silence of night, the crescent moon’s light
A play of light and dark
The serene nature sleeps a strange fever creeps
The homebound wings of a lark
An eerie silence reigns in the forest now.
A few huts of people living in this forest
Can be seen at the distance. The faint light spilled
Through the roofs is busy in hiding its scantiness;
Though darkness and silence of the forest are extending
A sympathetic hand to it. A baby cries, its mother cradles
The new-found affection gently, gently, it is bound to be
Lulled into sleep whereas all the leaping flames
Circle the mother and baby in an enchanted dance
The morning glows in stranger shine. The ferny floor
All teeming with greedy shadows; the day shows the door
Of immeasurable wealth; they tread invisible ways
To usurpation, primitive hands fail to prevent
Modern cormorants and voracious sharks in complete sway
Timeline
Corpses of trees mutilated arms, legs and breasts bear proof to genocide
Timeline
Huge bulldozers mechanical drone flourish of contemptuous tide
Timeline
Herds of cattle lead an impeccable people’s exodus
Timeline
The forest relegates into history, a state-of-the art mall shows its class
…………
Timeline
As a rainbow of the sunset descends
and the balmy breeze washes over sand
that tickles between toes and carefree hand,
I’m in the company of valued friends.
The deceptive calm of darkening sea
where the cormorants dive for their last meal,
the leeward shadows of the rocks turn teal –
I would not wish in other place to be.
The windsurfers had furled colourful kites.
Easterly wind had died down for the day
and sharks are out to forage and for play
in riptides, lurking out of reach of lights.
I lift my eyes to the offing distant,
the aspect of which is ever constant.
INSPIRED BY:
Sonnet VI,
by William Lisle Bowles
Poetic form: BOWLESIAN SONNET
***************************************************
*offing: (n) The sea-level horizon is the geographic horizon at sea level. One of the best places to see the sea-level horizon is a beach. The ocean and the sky provide a clean, flat line where the Earth seems to meet the sky. If you’re standing on the beach looking out at the sea the part of the sea that ‘touches’ the horizon is called the 'offing'.
The morning seemed unreal,
too perfect in a way -
the waking river
where small boats ignited
like candles on being lit
by first light and where
a cormorant dived
into a blazing sun.
And here, where
a certain magic began
to find its way into
the great, glowing bulk
of a passing ship
towing its fiery wake
down river
towards a grand idea
that was forming
in a corner of the mind.
I should have left
it there in the unspoken
margins of the morning,
to gather and let
it warm, as cormorants do
by stretching out their wings
to catch the sun.
I was too impatient
and fell back
into where all things
are restrained within
their own space
and have a name.
1
the goose is putting signature
on the plume detaching from its tail
the queue is overflowed with crowd
groping in the memory of the gathering people
so many safety pins and cello-tapes
are found
on the shoulders of some wayfarers
there is the stammering cold
2.
the body-language of the moon
is being so changed
the enthusiastic may test
blood came down
when the tap is on
and sweat
now birds from siberia
are flowing in through the disc antenna
the dravidian air is ever changing
now none can get ruined
following all the grammar
3.
the sole hunger of the winter
is being noted down in the note book
covered with human-skin
the clouds of the summer and the rainy season
are salivating
the garrulous spiders are detaching the shells
of the dead deer and putting the gardens in the iron-chest
throwing dry leaves to shoo away the coke
oh, the sleeveless palms
are all the new girl-friends ok
4.
putting on the rain-coat to save the skin
or it’s an armour
is your body safe
fireworks are twinkling
piercing
the fire-brigade has gone to a joyful journey with the clouds
admit the charisma of the bathroom
you the adult buffalo
don’t forget to tell
the experienced cormorants have flown in from the marshland
5.
diving in search of kisses
I saw all are stings
even the wicker tray with the articles of ceremonial reception
can’t escape bite
would you be clean
oh engrossed abir
so many flakes of snow on the branches of the guava tree
the festival is in your teeth also
tame your blood
don’t submerge the river into the waves
and there is the sky
beg a rail
Evening Dream
Dr Ranjit Dutta
With your ardour
In that green valley
You raised your hand
To the evening sky,
I remember too.
Looking two glazing stars of
That silvery evening,
Two cormorants were
Swimming in the morass
Chewing the verses
Fearing nothing.
Keeping aside
The gloomy darkness,
I was talking with my
Poetry of cosmic green
Who was grazing in your bosom.
Suddenly
Her rude face and
your blue costumes searched someone
In broken words .
The wan pink spread
silken perfume
On her cottony body,
My poetry fell in the bog
While you came close and closer,
The evening dream of
Blue and pink
Became pale green.
We stroll ocean sand beach as waves come toward us.
Sea brakes, crashing on shore; wind's keen, birds seen now.
Feet feel water rush by - it's cold, a nice plus!
Great size cormorants sate their greed upon scow.
Seascape shows pier through day's half light, kept somehow.
Rails hold places where lines drop bait far downward.
Boats ply slowly across the sea's fog hazed brow.
Fine brave surfers catch waves where no man sees guard.