Best Up The River Poems
Forest fairies changing colors,
autumn's patchwork pattern weaving
in the foggy morning stillness
before winter's barren grieving,
up the river on the damp air,
up hollows through the shadowed vales
sounds the mournful, sobbing whistle:
once more memory rides the rails.
Childhood song for railroad watchers -
a tinge of hobo in my veins,
longing for the lonesome whistle
like a lost child for his name.
Life began beside the railway,
an open door to fantasy;
my dreamer's soul soaked in the flavor
hearing that whistle witchery.
Hungry tramps in search of breakfast
found our doorstep every time;
hobo network communication
marked mama's eggs and bacon "fine."
Bleary eyes and beards all stubble
made child imaginations fly
and the tales with which we clothed them
were wilder still than hobo lies.
Oh, for the days when trains were magic:
iron dragons breathing smoke and fire,
lashing long tails through the valleys
with monstrous strength that never tired.
Oh, the secrets that were hidden
behind the doors of plain boxcars;
feel the untamed urge to mount them
and plunder treasure from afar.
Delight was ours beyond measure
to waken on those special days,
finding, in the night, the dragon
had brought the circus train our way.
See the bearded lady waving
and catch the fat man's twinkling eye,
smell the coal smoke's pungent flavor
beneath our magic big top sky.
Grown up am I; steam train magic
comes swirling by once in a while
to view autumn's fleeting pageant
and make train lovers like me smile.
Nostalgic, rhythmic beating,
staccato yelps and sobbing wails
make my soul a mental hobo;
once more memory rides the rails.
Copyright, 2000
Faye Lanham Gibson
we merge ...
I, rooted in your core
grinding up as you press down, never deep enough
supine, you on knees above, I reach up
weaving my fingers through silken strands
I guide your head gently down toward me, moondrops in your eyes
sweet tresses fall between us as our mouths melt together
tongues playing their own game, soft like bubblegum
I swim up the river to your soul
to that place indescribable, warm and dark
we are so melded that I almost feel alone ... lonely
but in the sense of being US, and one
I could let go my spirit there ...
without fear or regret or contemplation
I could stay forever on those shores, in joy
lost in our union and ethereal embrace
but it is far, far too precious for those ends
exquisite and rare for the sake of how momentary
and blessed for the sake of how perfect
how tenderly and passionately ... perfect.
~ 1st Place ~ in the "Brian's Select 1, Any Form, Any Theme" Poetry Contest, Brian Strand, Judge & Sponsor.
~ 1st Place ~ in the "Favorite Poem From Last Week" Poetry Contest, Lu Loo, Judge & Sponsor.
The moment we can only hold a small second
Ask the oldest ones that have lessons weapon
I find parts of you in every love song content
Tears they fall silent and fills up the river they prevent
An infinite movement where the soul flames burning
Out comes the warmth that spreads like yearning
The race starts while life is dawning
The fear of losing the grip comes creeping every morning
Friends who have died in war for peace - still in my thoughts and dreams
The angels protect me against demons - it seems
Life is a Bridge of Sighs over a river of tears like a pray
In the wind you plant your tears - the storm will blow them away
29.05.2014
A-L Andresen :)
Copyright © All Rights Reserved
Contest Name :Tears On The Wind
Sponsor:Gail Angel Doyle
Slowly spring sun caresses the land
As kowhais will softly provoke
Flushes of yellow to gently expand
Their buds of the season uncloak
Helping bellbirds escape from winter’s last choke.
Methodical beats of wood pigeon wings
Whoosh thru the quiet spring air.
Melodious trills as tuis’s sweetly sing
Fantails flitter, with hardly a care
While bush robins cheekily dare.
Fragrance of earth sweetens the breeze
New lambs adventure and race
Dragonflies linger, then floating past trees
Whio dart up the river with grace
My core just idolizes this place.
I climb up the mountain out of the trees
A kea, the comedian of the highland flies past
Does a sharp turn, lands on a boulder to tease
It’s green, blue and red feathers contrast
Their intelligence and pranks unsurpassed.
Day turns to evening; a morepork issues its call
A mournful sound that echoes the night
I descend in the darkness at the pace of a crawl
Then the hoarse cry of a kiwi just out of my sight
I'm relaxed. One day with the birds and I’m no longer uptight.
For info on these birds www.nzbirds.com
you live in me ... still ...
so many adventurous years
since I held your gaze ... heard your voice
felt your fingers fill the spaces in mine, perfectly
mixed my spirit and body with yours
swam up the river of your soul
to THAT place - the undefined realm of unity
and loss of self
so many moons that should have kissed your skin
so many sighs and thoughts
given to empty wishes
yet you are there -
deep in the places I hold you, safe
where others can not see or admonish for yesterday's sake
where you can not thrust your blade
of casual indifference
or let bleed to the passing of time
the memory of all we were
you live in me ... still ...
and my last breath ... will be yours.
~ 6th Place ~ in the "Late July 2018 Premiere Any Form Or None" Poetry Contest, Brian Strand, Sponsor & Judge.
Aub
Aubrey Gordon Joseph Mc'Govern
by Don Johnson...
he was born in 1895 to a land so different then,
one of three boys born at Brenda station,
near to Hebel up the river near the water on a bend.
though just a child he told me of his life upon the land,
of strange things seen and space ships strange, with
coloured lights so grand.
how he and Walter and the boy had seen it flying past ,
but never went to look for it though it fell with a mighty blast.
he drove the coach for Cobb & co, held six horses by the rein,
these 3 Mc Govern's never married though,
so no Mc Govern's will remain.
he worked on Cubbie station as a station hand
their fences he did mend, delivered mail a sulky
mailman to the squatters he was friend.
no radio on the airwaves then, the news would come by him,
by word of mouth the bush telegraph, bare facts with no garnishing.
one time he was a shearers cook and cooked o'er an open fire.
he was on the rum, maybe seeing things, old Aub. he was no liar.
as he stooped to check the boiling pot he saw the Devil lunge at him.
so he flogged him off used his boiling spuds,
made a goodly campfire dim.
old Aubrey's gone where the old drovers go,
but i sure remember him.
as a story teller i did know,
when i was small and thin. …
I take it him down to Louisiana
those long forgotten day I couldn't live without
the days of heat and passion hidden in the sun
barely enough time to do what we wanted
Oh those days that summer in moonlight
when love was my only gift that came from inside
near that old Red River our own valley
the tug boats horn blowing in their travels
but we never stopped laughing
long enough to hold on and make it matter
Oh I dream of sweet love home together
as my memories make thoughts swim in love's river
two tiny toddlers in that old house asleep
as we made our dreams hope creating another
in nine months we held our creation of bliss
This is about my third child Sawyer. Moving into my childhood home, he got a gleam in his eye and we took a break from moving right there. I was so young. A tug boat came by blowing watching and no matter how much I begged he kept saying I don't hear a thing. I was so embarrassed. We were miles from civilization but my luck a tug boat came up the river. lol TMI just a fond memory now. Alabama was always on the radio, he would set it to take me down, or she and I. Over share I know. Not my best for sure but a memory just the same.
The river that runs dry,
was a lonely dark, dark river, so dark the sadness from the river dried up the river was so silent you couldnt hear just silence anymore you could hear the whispers of cry's of helpless children, and parents crying out, in so much pain even that is unforgivable, being betrayed by your loved ones. One dark, dark, night went by, the river that ran dry, its a river that holds no more tears, the tears running down into the river by tears from people's faces. There's no more broken promises, no more stab's in the back, no more tears are flowing with sorrow and pain. The river runs dry because, the river is silent, the river is dried up with no rough rocks and no rough paths to go through, no waterfalls running with tears because they've all been lifted up unto a peaceful place, because a brighter light of a loving home has arrived for them all with flowers that bloom in the meadows of green pastures.
Under a bridge where I sit,
Watching the water go by,
When along came a piece of ****
And I had to ask myself, Why?
Till water under the bridge to say,
Did not seem appropriate anymore;
Sitting there amidst the decay,
More turds I saw from the shore.
Now to shrug off, say what?
Like water under the bridge, okay!
But maybe off my damn butt
And clean up the river I'll say.
Till water under the bridge no more,
No longer with a shrug to say it;
I'm getting off of my butt before,
Yet, another Cliché is full of ****.
A koi rising up the river of ascending
Reaching the highest honor
Shedding scales to transcend to a great beast
Dragon
He flies with a roar of courage, breathing fire through the clouds, with righteous fury spewing
Divine yang
The symbol of distant glory
Stripes baring camouflage
Claws and canines to lash out extreme force
She burns bright in the forest of the night
Immortal hands and eyes
Glamorous Yin
Dragon and Tiger attraction, magnetic personalities
Mutual power of dynamic, giving way to irritation
Lover’s combustion bond
Dragon yang meets any provocation
Tiger yin lays to her impulsive mercurial ways
Two signs of a burst of energy
A brash and courageous Dragon seeks out Tiger’s love
Possessing compassion and understanding
Zodiac strong forces binding
Feeling appreciated and desired, they will always be in perfect infatuation
Yin and yang
I remember dens and swings,
There weren't any techno things.
Outside playing hide and seek
No pc to give a tweak.
Weekends up the river walking
Not permanently on an iphone talking.
No facebook with a hundred likes
Just charging around on our bikes.
The twitter we knew came from birds,
We didn't text, we spoke real words.
Alas such childhoods are long since gone,
No playing out, just logging on.
To tell you this I have to go way back to a time when I was all about me and to young to admit knowing wrong from right and with that said. I go back to the age of
19 to 20. when I used to think bud-wiser did make me wiser and Jack Daniel's was my best friend.
I had been on along weekend of drinking and not a lot of sleep so I was out a the river setting in a lawn chair in the river nursing a bad head when a bunch of loud people and little kids decide to join me in the sun in this low spot in the river.
Now this river I was in was dog river it is just a mud hole for miles and I was not near the bridge I had walked a ways down the river so me and my pals could nurse our bad heads but the just had to bring them bad butts down river to us so being to bad girl that I am I remember I saw a dead snake in the woods when I went to go pee and I told my friend I was gonna clean up the river the guys said you don't need to start trouble. I knew if I told them they would never let me do it so I told my girl pal to cover for me and tell them I had to pee again.
I went and got the dead snake walk up stream and toss it in the water and when it started down passed to bunch of noise people you could hear them scream and run for the bank. I just sat real still but I forgot to mention to my guy friends what I did
and they saw it to they too left the river but me and my gal pal laugh so hard when they got to the car they noticed we are not there they came back and looked at us and ask what did I do so I told them I cleaned up the river with the snake so we had so peace and quite
Needless to say I to soon lost my guy pal after that he told me I was to CRAZY for him.
* This was written for a contest, with the requirement that it be from the future bride to her groom. *
My Darling ... you are the sentinel of my soul and
The keeper of the keys to my heart! You are the
Arrow sent forth from the bow of the heavens to
Pierce my spirit with love everlasting! Oh, how the
Sun blushes each morn in reverence of your smile!
How the moon wistfully pales with the knowledge
That my nights are now yours - complete, passionate,
And sublime! With each warming summer rain, the
Sky itself weeps with envy, that it no longer holds
Your favor as I do! My precious love, I give to you
Now in wedlock, the hand that was created to meld
With yours - the space between each finger meant
For the grasp of thine, just as each star was meant
For its place in the sky - as perfect, as shimmering,
And as eternal! Let us go forth into Life as the pillars
Of a shrine - each in its own strength, but together,
Stronger still. Let me swim up the river of your spirit
And dance with you on the shores of wonder ... give
Me the honor and blessing of shaping your smile, of
Being the bright of your days and the comfort of your
Nights! Allow me the bounty of bearing our children,
And kissing away your tears! But most of all, let us
Embrace the joys and sorrows of life as ONE, from
The morning of our lives together, to the setting sun
Of our later years. I pledge all that I am and believe,
To the magnificent man I know you shall always be ...
My dear, precious Love!
When a burglar ate some of my expired food, it made him expire.
The next day I learned that an attorney was who I needed to hire.
They've sent me up the river for twenty years for manslaughter.
I've lost 50 pounds because they only feed me bread and water.
I wish that I had a bottle of Jack Daniels or vodka because I want to get soused.
What the hell has the USA come to when I go to jail because a thief burgled my house?
I hadn't gotten around to throwing my expired food in the trash.
Now I cry every day because my attorney took all of my cash.
Even though he took all of my money, he lost the case.
The prisoners lust after each other in this horrible place.
I can't take this prison any longer, my situation is so dire.
If you get arrested, my lawyer is somebody you shouldn't hire.
Blue ellipses
Rolling rumbling honey wagons
Glory shouts came from up the river
Shining, I wasn’t alone
My hope clings to mountains
Finding and never knowing
In the moment of soaring