Best Harbour Poems
Do not harbour hatred
It slowly eats away at your soul
It closes the hearts door to love
Destruction it’s only role
Do not harbour hatred
It only brings pain
It serves no positive purpose
Destruction it’s only gain
Do not harbour hatred!
steel beams
reach across space
poised
seas moving beneath sound
the salty breath-test of time
As the light starts to fade, at the end of the day,
And the last rays of sunset cascade on the bay.
The fishing boats set sail, their little lamps a glow,
Off to deeper waters and the school of fish below.
Along the granite, harbor wall, the lime washed cottage stands,
The little wind swept coastal path to the causeway and sands.
At the point a lighthouse giving out its light,
Protecting the wayward mariner as he sails on through the night.
For generations have come and gone, it’s always been that way,
As tide rolls in with the fishing boats that signals break of day.
Dar harbour full of teeming life
A mass of colourful ships and boats
Radiant do your waters gleam
Each wave gently lapping the shore
Sails fluttering in the breeze
Slowly yet violently the yachts jib
As they sail and tack against the wind
Loud blast out the ships horns
As the tugs pilot them to sea or dock
And the gulls screech diving in their wakes
Many colourful dhows sail in to moor
Hot breezes on my face
As midday temperatures soar
Raising our sails we float
Bringing our bows into the wind
Out to sea we are headed
Under full sail we skim the waves
Ready for what ever adventures await
written 03/11/2013
finalist in National Anthology of Poetry Competition of 2014
www.youtube.com/watch?v=SosiBqiUJTM video of beach
this clip shows the beach we lived near and also others of the harbour I talk of in this poem
Dhows are a native large boat with 3 square sails of highly coloured Material similar to Junk boats / ships
Grace Harbour
First into Grace Harbour
Me in classic sailboat
At anchor alone
In Desolation Sound
Where silence reveals the place
And the world is bigger
Because I can hear its’ vastness
It’s Bioacoustic diversity
Seals surface, gulls dive, water ripples.
A breeze in a cedar whispers
The buzz of a bumblebee.
The distant whistle of an eagle trembles in air
And falling droplets of rain taste of spruce.
The very place sparkles in silent sound and my soul is still
No need to block out
The combat zone of flashing messages.
From CNN and Fox.
But stillness of silence
Is reflected in blue water
and framed by oyster encrusted rocks,
While green and orange algae talk
Tidal pools and purple sea stars walk
And I can hear the world as music.
--------------------------------------------
War, bombs and shrapnel.
Roaring yachts arrive like Hummers or tanks from Kandahar
Stacked high with gadgets, guns hanged,
Travelling as a pack of waking house-mobiles
To conquer wilderness with bars, showers, propane barbecues
Gas generators, deep freezers, and boom-boxes
All sorts of folks; models in bikinis with pedigree dogs.
Fashion ladies in silk that launch revving zodiacs
To carry standard poodles for an urgent pee.
Then ‘A Tea Cup Yorkshire terrier’ yelps
At a Jack Russell that barks at a Chihuahua
As a Dachshund and Afghan Hound take offense
In frenzied jealousy.
Big hipped humans scream ashore in tenders.
Acoustic awareness numbed
The get-away-from-it-allers that bring it all always, partied.
As night fell they turned the generators off
“I haven’t seen any wildlife”, said one,
“There was more to feed at the zoo”
Said the other boomer
“Yea, where’s the loon.”
Fixed ideas of progress consume.
Then our mother moon
In full dress exposed an array of limpets
Of many sizes and shapes all clinging to obvious rocks
Exchanging freedom for the security
Of a defensive shell of fixed ideas
And automated reflexes.
It is useless to talk kindly to a limpet
One must detach it by main force.
Take the rope, boy, pull the hawser hard,
The knot must sit firm and tight.
Remember, we sailed by starlit skies
as the sea took us far from cradling coasts,
far from the sheltering bays and beaches
To where no earth scent reaches
The salt-stained sea-spattered air;
And the gulls, oh, the gulls, sailed
High and morose,
In their flight no memory of land.
Pull harder, boy, harder, and show me your strength,
Pull hard on that hawser with all of your might!
We lived on fish so easy to catch,
Of man they knew nothing,
The virgin shimmering tufted blue
The sky a wan, unearthly hue,
And we sailed and we sailed
Till the limp skies paled,
Till the night gathered round
And the world had no sound.
That’s it! Yes! I feel the ship berthing,
Earthing, and my head so light!
We lived the waves’ unruly heave,
The lurching slapping lapping swagger,
We drew lines between the stars
And danced our eyes on dead horizons,
We lived the stunned torpor of water
When the wind slept its sudden sleep.
We lived beyond life for far too long,
And long now for life once more.
So heave to, my boy, I'll jump ashore,
It takes but a moment to snuff the light.
'Pon Mt. Edgecumbe lies soft serve ice cream
Being surrounded by fuchsia lips
Wishfully gazed upon by a cobalt blue dream
Over the port full of harbor ships
Colors of the sky predicting snow pretty ugly
The ice cream running down the mountain awfully good
Those waters in the harbor down deep bubbly
Teeming with jumbo shrimp and on the beach driftwood
Sitka, Alaska experiences each day's end
With a sky ending with special delights
Sky and earth seem to together blend
When day seems to slip into the dark night
finis'...
Written: June 2 and 3, 2023
Like oil on troubled water, dawn pours upon the sea,
cajoling worried waters from their midnight reverie.
Her fresh North-West accomplice adds his whisper to the light
and shoo’s the fleeing night clouds to persuade them in their flight.
A raucous flock of seabirds add hello’s to break of day,
as port and starboard signal lights extinguish in the bay
The crackling sounds of men at work, prove fireworks equal match,
as fishing smacks, with teeming loads, unload each squirming catch.
Chain freed gates and crashing crates give notice to the day,
another dawn as harbour town makes ready for the fray.
Yellow lights that painted night, now dim and fade from view,
as morning’s pearly glory brushes over canvas new.
Save my soul, I'm washed out to sea
I need the lights of a harbour to beckon me
Gasping for breath, in a bedraggled state
As the wild wind decides my ultimate fate
Swallowed up by the dark but emerge by the shore
A stranger to land and with sea-legs no more
Conflicted and confused by my second chance
Do I pray, do I sing, do I walk, do I dance?
I had thought that the sea would carry me home
Yet I stand with new landscape; fresh pastures to roam
The life I could live now plainly in view
New path lined with hope for my heart to pursue
I sit upon the harbour wall
And feel the warm sun on my face.
I turn my gaze far out to sea
And watch the happy dolphins play.
Bright sunbeams slanting through the clouds
Are searchlights toying with the waves.
I lean against the cold hard lines
Of granite blocks quite roughly hewn
With urgent cries and rapid fire
Of circling seabirds overhead.
I hear the splashing, rippling waves –
That wash upon the wrinkled sand.
I watch the little fishing smacks
That bob and sway upon the tide.
The Black Lion pub surveys the bay
Of Llareggub; that famous town
Where Thomas-the-Verse composed his lines.
But he’s not supping here today,
No clouds of smoke from cheap Woodbines –
His spirit floats down Donkey Street.
By coloured lights, the bay is lit,
In evening breeze, they dance and flit,
Arms linked we walk, enjoy the sights
The bay is lit by coloured lights.
Young lads are diving from the pier,
They somersault and have no fear,
Grinning, laughing, youth is thriving
From the pier, young lads are diving.
In beachside bars, we drink red wine
Push back our chairs, relax, recline,
Look up to see the melting stars,
We drink red wine in beachside bars.
A smile, a kiss, a soft embrace
The silken scarf that frames your face,
Can there ever be such bliss ?
A soft embrace, a smile, a kiss ?
23 June 2020
Swap Quatrain poetry contest
Sponsor : Emile Pinet
A steam of sub-consciousness takes him to kissing a bouquet of rivers
Blessed by fortune and mindfulness Tim follows his passion for nature
Star struck the Horizon unfolds over a canopy of breathless adventure
Uncovers sunshine and rays as rain bows to shivering heaven below
As thunder and lightning explode and expose a meandering delta he
Needs no reminder that grapes lie undraped and sweet juice calls awaiting
In his mind he strokes moist wilderness amazed at the flooding of wetlands
Hovers over a small swelling hill set to the tunes of season’s exuberant joy
Charmed by a flute presiding over the peninsula just nether of Cape Town
The cloth settles in glorious fog like a blanket caressing valleys and peak
Exploring a new continent of dreams has never before been so exquisite
No direction nor map and no compass no South Wester where oceans meet
Tim needs no coat for protection no umbrella not a hat for his longing
Although Leonhard Cohen’s Famous Blue Raincoat springs to his mind
Dylan’s Hard Rain peals away for the moment sheltered by passion
Here as they lie in a beach hut of dreams spread under flakes of Karma
Chakras in full colour channels open and unbound energy and desire
Kim guides his wandering fingers and the hands of the time piece is still
When they reach that sweet oyster bequeathed by the triangle of shivers
And Chronos meets Kairos at the slope of cliff face flora and pleasure
They know not only pirates steam and stream from lighthouse to harbour
14th February 2019
Love Harbour
The plug was pulled when you parted away
from what we intended. That hope of our day
As water ran out, and our love-boat assailed
by overreaction. Our hope was de-railed
I had to be vigilant as I made a way
to an alternate time-spent; A moment to pray
Well managed the low-tide, you swam, and I sailed
Some water reserved ‘cause the onset has failed
The rain of the Father replenish the loss
A time thought ‘twas missing, was counting the cost
Our love-boat, by now, we are ready to bail
With God in the harbour - Preparing to sail
A WINTER MORNING AT THE HARBOUR
(For two Lovers)
Two People are making plans;
Their hours run by – spent,
moving behind their mirrors,
underneath plan “B” boils
unknown to both!
And! As promising as it seems,
building one-way dreams,
while the sand leaks, the glass empties.
But the promises grow;
Very – slow.
Excuses surface quicker than
the moving of their dry chapped lips,
the stranger can taste, her dreams
he cannot see the rough sea, looks over
her narrow shoulder,
A fleeting glimpse,
she splits herself in four!
He has split himself before,
Betrayed his wife
Cheap at the price;
Out of the plate of his choice
he picks at the crumbs behind her voice
underneath it falls apart.
So, many frozen waves, of sea,
and good-byes, while the snow flies.
Stranger sees this from-
her small shoe box of dreams
and his head in the shed schemes,
holding hands, tied by the lifeless stove,
while the Seagulls cries sleet in the snowflakes.
The day, the shore, freezing cold feet;
Selling the crown jewel’s
It comes down to this day,
being free of thoughts, priceless;
Their embers from the fire within
furiously flying to escape!
Into the flames go her dreams;
A repeated chance!
Into the flames go his cares,
burnt with their stars.
This rusting chain is witness to an age
When slate was quarried from these ancient cliffs
And where one hundred quarrymen earned a wage.
This harbour, filled with steamboats, schooners, skiffs,
Became a hive of industry, back when
Demand for road-stone, roofing slates and bricks
Was at its peak, then never seen again.
In modern times it’s in the tourist mix;
From far and wide they come; their aim – “The Shed”—
A posh fish restaurant. Book in advance,
Secure your table, or disappointed
And hungry be, and float in fresh fish trance.
The smell of fish and chips wafts from the galley.
Move on, quick! Away! We dare not dally.