Best Tugboats Poems
It’s magic walking in the dark,
The sidewalks empty, shadows stark
And dogs have not begun to bark;
There’s promise in the air.
The birds are waking in the park,
Each chirp a beak-to-beak remark
And on the river, tugboats hark,
En route to who-knows-where.
When daylight breaks I disembark
From reveries the pre-dawns spark
As I confront the question mark
Of how the day will fare.
Categories:
tugboats, dark, morning,
Form:
Rhyme
Other places have their charms,
Like oceans, mountains, forests, farms
And I can visit and admire
Why they match someone’s desire
Yet no matter where I roam,
The city is, for me, my home.
Back in town from out of state,
My river walk did me await
And right away, what did I see?
A perfect moon, there just for me
And then, beneath that glowing sliver,
Gliding past upon the river
Two cool tugboats made me smile,
Doing tugboat work in style.
Mountains may make many swoon
But give me tugboats and the moon.
Categories:
tugboats, appreciation,
Form:
Rhyme
I sat on a redwood dock
in the town of Crescent City.
My mom had recently died.
and my heart was full of pity.
South Carolina is my home
but I needed to flee.
Under cold and starry skies
tugboats pulled big ships out to sea.
I felt like the little boats.
I've struggled to do my best.
As big ships gathered speed,
the tugboats returned to rest.
Eyes focused to see the redwoods,
only God could create.
No one can deny the miracle,
the redwoods that He made.
The great Pacific Ocean,
miles from my eastern shore,
Mom has crossed her ocean.
She rests, now, forever more.
Categories:
tugboats, death, mother,
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:
tugboats, childhood, family, feelings, fun,
Form:
Rhyme
More than fifty ships go through the Suez Canal on any day.
However, a very large freighter has blocked the passageway.
The ship called the "Ever Given" comes from a company in Taiwan.
Unsuccessful efforts to move the vessel have been going on.
Tugboats and personnel are trying to get the big ship free.
Meanwhile, hundreds of other craft have been stalled on the sea.
This incident is having a negative impact on the world economy.
From a story found in the Los Angeles Times.
Categories:
tugboats, business, sea,
Form:
Rhyme
Away From the Camera.
In the Bay of Bengal, near Tripura, a tank ship ran
aground, an old ship that had been economical for
its owner, carrying crude for a hungry west and
crewed by low paid seamen. And she was sold to
the people who would tear ships apart, like French
avant-garde butchers with hearts of frozen rocks.
Squall in the bay, the ship broke anchor and, like
a horse that seeks grassland, she sought high seas.
Alas she had oil onboard must be caught before spill
washed on sandy shore. Cowboy tugboats rode out
lassoed the old lady back to the place of destruction.
It is in the Bay of Bengal the infidel drowned Bin Laden,
in moonlight his coffin is a silvery specter in the bay.
It drifted to shores of New Jersey, on the voyage made
a devil´s pact with sandy storm; revenge for those who
dare laugh in the face of Islam. For her crew this meant
little, but pale memories of peace when dolphins played
on cobalt sea, and grown men had hearts of poetry.
Categories:
tugboats, fantasy, old, old,
Form:
Blank verse
The green leafed tree in the harbor.
There the freights are advanced.
Sailors with quality tools, while
diners feast and play chess. The edge
Of the merchants dine hall has a Blindspot
where tugboats honk there horn to
enter the harbor. A large pile of bones
where the chef has stacked them, for
the jewelers to retrieve them to make
Carved ornaments for tourist and others.
We find there Snorkel and Algae two
Fiddlers who play music while diners
Eat at the Surfin Toot restaurant.
"Anchors ah shore maties, Anchors ah-
Shore!"
Captain Morse Pierconn
USS Snorkelcraft
Chauffeur play'd Hymn
But didn't play me
Swift sung to her
But didn't sing to me
People like song
But didn't like me
What we gon do
What we gon do
Indough neigh ah
Ah beautiful ismuss
Brazilian strings
A pretty lady
We sing ah song
But song don't
Sing me
We sing ah song
Of love!
Categories:
tugboats, boat, celebration, celebrity, dance,
Form:
Ballad
Wind sweeps down the side of the mountain
Crosses tracks and flings itself across the river,
First slapping against the sides of the tugboats
Causing the deckhands to shiver and curse
As they check the lashing between the barges,
Several days before they reach the sun
And longer still before arriving at the delta,
In the meantime, they work as fast as they can
with pea coats fastened against oncoming blasts
Of bitter chill, and careful avoiding icy patches
On the walkways of the behemoths they tame
Young men romanticize working on the river,
Unaware of the dangers, seems an easy job.
They do not know of bodies mangled, crushed
Chain unhitched, a single misstep, a sudden jerk
When least expected, pay beneficiaries for a life.
written December 9, 2021
Categories:
tugboats, boat, death, river, work,
Form:
Free verse
Leaving the dock, sounding the bells
Captain at stern, strong water swells
Winds give rise, full ahead call
Clear blue sky, no noted squall.
Boston harbor hosting, ships are notable
Schooners to Barque, old and admirable,
Sailing from Europe, Canada and England
Powered by winds, tugboats on hand.
Under the sky, across the sea
Tall ships sail, first view majesty
White masts rise, dressed to parade
Crewmen now salute, flags proudly displayed.
Ropes are taut, winds pass by
Ships now turning, sailors climbing high
Spacious seas accommodate, ships sail proud
Nearer to port, cheers come loud.
Crow’s nest manned, smooth sailing ahead
Through the channel, U.S. Coastguard led,
Viewers on banks, small boats inland
All ships accountable, well in hand.
Quite an honor, sailing high seas
Hands on deck, standing at ease,
Coming into port, Bunker Hill insight
Best of all, tall ships delight.
Categories:
tugboats, celebration,
Form:
Rhyme
Fierce tempest slams its maddened jeer
while gush of flood crashes offshore ;
then to our village…loud winds roar
as piercing thunder grows severe:
Upon tide's crest pale mollusk floats
Adrift in waste, oaks droop away
That cabins old swish in the bay,
Rattling wooden docks and tugboats.
At last, end of hour’s pour departs --
glints the sunlight reigning morn’s climb
to lift day’s qualm and wake fresh lime,
of scented air easing men’s hearts.
In prayer , we ask Mother Earth
for weather tranquil like skies blue ,
vowing to tend nature, anew
till forests bloom, this life’s rebirth.
8/20/2019
'We would stand a better chance of survival
if we accommodated ourselves to this planet
and viewed it appreciatively...” E.B. White
-------------------
Writing Challenge 2, August 2019 –
Enclosed Rhyme Contest
Sponsor: Dear Heart
Categories:
tugboats, care, nature, storm,
Form:
Enclosed Rhyme
Yes, I do have a black tie he said
He showed up with it stuck to his head
His wife was not classy
Her gown was quite trashy
They were escorted to the flower bed
The next couple was luckier than that
They brought along a dog and a cat
hidden in their coats
Were put onto tugboats
Tossed out to sea past the graveyard flat
Categories:
tugboats, 10th grade, 11th grade,
Form:
Limerick
Seagulls squawk and pigeons coo;
What they’re saying – I’ve no clue.
They just do what they must do
To make it in the city.
Ferries float and tugboats tug;
Friends meet up and give a hug.
Maybe readers sigh and shrug –
More musings? ‘Tis a pity!
Still, I sit outside and write
At my favorite local site,
Gazing to my heart’s delight
At views I find so pretty…
Categories:
tugboats, city, me,
Form:
Rhyme
The tugboats in the river chug
While motorboats bounce by.
The dogs on leashes sniff the ground
And pigeons peck or fly.
The children with their helmets on
Give training wheels a whirl
While grown-ups check their phones
Or let their newspapers unfurl.
A gentle breeze allows the flags
To flutter, flap and dance
As shirtless men soak up the sun
And no one looks askance.
I sit here on a bench, relaxed,
Content to be outside
To jot these thoughts in comfort
Since I’ve all this time to bide.
Categories:
tugboats, day,
Form:
Rhyme
It happens mostly out of sight,
under cover of the world,
life ebbing away or is seized
by a claw or fang, suffering
in corners, enduring what fate
cruelly inflicts. Each night,
millions die, are torn, choked,
or swallowed whole
or simply wear out leaving
no trace or a word anywhere.
Yesterday,
I saw a solitary swan
up river from the bridge
slowly heading out from the bank
and into the channel
where tugboats turn ships
before sliding them
sideways into dock.
Mid river, it held up both wings
and began to flap and look
for speed and lift in the still air.
One wing seemed unable
to travel the full arc of its
flighted sweep and soon
gave out to leave the swan
floundering lopsided until
it gathered in its wounded wing
and settle it back slightly askew
into its cradle and then paddled
off into the past leaving
its wake to linger here for awhile
before it withers away
into the endless still of oblivion.
Categories:
tugboats, bird, time,
Form:
Free verse
Tugboats glide up river
towards their twilight rendezvous.
The trees on the far bank
are filling with birds gathering
for their nightly roost.
I have come here
to take in the calm, to make
my peace.
I never know what to say,
what words to use that haven't
been spoken a hundred times
before or what to request when
all has been said and done.
My prayers now are silence,
the same that lay at the core of trees
and in the depths of the river.
There is a joy that almost
breaks the surface but seems
to submerge when I draw near.
The evening is all around
and if I close my eyes
and be still, I no longer know
where I begin or where I end.
It's enough just being here.
Categories:
tugboats, peace, prayer, river, self,
Form:
Free verse