Best Waterways Poems
Springtime rain brings fresh array
of flowers east to west.
The Rockies’ red and purple tufts
of mountain pride are best.
And mats of foliage named moss pink face south to get the sun
while buttercups put forth large blooms
so not to be outdone.
Then comes the rain to bleak terrain
where gloriously unfolds
alongside barren roads - in patches -
desert marigolds.
Mojave yucca, blue lupines,
and sego lily whites
with Indian prairie fire flowers
paint the deserts bright.
And common flowers of the fields
in every place abound.
Sweet Joe-Pye weed; Black-eyed Susan
push up from the ground.
The California poppy makes
a patchwork orange and blue
while dandelions most unloved
will countless seedlings spew.
In southern marshes blossom too
the water hyacinths,
making of the waterways
pesky labyrinths.
In northern streams grow pussy willows
naked with no petals,
and somewhere on a touch-me-not
a bumblebee now settles.
Blossoming in woodlands now
are flowers in the shade,
but most prefer the sunlight of
an open forest glade.
The wild columbine dressed blue
and handsome in the breeze,
fragrant like the violet,
gives nectar to the bees
All across the country
there awaken everywhere,
each in their appointed region,
wild flowers fair.
Daisies, clover, daffodils
and lovely Queen Anne’s lace.
They briefly stay, but we can see
more fully nature’s grace!
(now for PD's Contest on Best Flower Poem)
For Constance La France's mini-contest: Wild Flowers
Have you heard of Fisher Folk
Masked and disguised
Often difficult to see
When in front of your very eyes
Some will see through the disguise
Once engaged in conversation
Others will never see a Fisher Folk
Blinded by their manipulation
Fisher Folk do not fish
In waterways of any kind
They only fish in ones psyche
Fishing…. human minds
Fishing information, only for personal gain
Needing constant compliments and praise
This is how Fisher Folk
Spend their devious, “its all about me” days
Also known as “Me People”
And other choice names
Pretending to show interest in you
When ‘Self ‘ is the name of their game
Some will never see a Fisher Folk
Being blinded by their camouflage
Others will see straight through it
Quickly seeing the mind sabotage
Fisher Folk are generally likeable
Often intelligent , charismatic ,smart
Though their interest in others is inauthentic
Not from a genuine or loving heart
WHO IS THE GIANT OF THEM ALL
Animals or humans, who is the giant of them all?
Bearing a two sheathed wings, the Hercules Beetles
crash the Titans (beetle) growing more than six inches.
Down the dirty waterways of China is the Mekong catfish
extending at ten feet, tummy-filled with one
full swallow of a child... Horrible!
Godzilla in Japan's sea is the Nomora Jellyfish!
However, the tipped nightmare fuel
incorporeal spill is not at all hazardous.
Jamison Stone, an eleven year old boy,
killed almost, this wild giant hog of 1051 lbs.
Lizards like the giant Salamanders aren't cute at all--
measuring six feet long: the largest of their kind!
Nuisance to Australia's dangerous wildlife, cane toads,
originally are found in South and Central America!
Power and beauty
quiets all his challengers when Percheron
runs, runs fast in a horse race!
Savory staple is the spider Crab but warning!
Their claws can do some serious damage!
Under a tree, don't be shock of the flying fox:
vampires to sweet-juices of fruits in New Guinea...
Weighing over a ton, Trigger is the cow for truckload of macs!
Xenopos are Cameroon Goliath that can live up to fifteen years.
Yes, humans are tough but compared to these behemoths,
zings we have are just their toys!
______________________________________________________________________
***Source:
http://www.viralnova.com/giant-animals/ and
http://diply.com/different-solutions/20-unbelievably-giant-animals/30768/4
***nightmare fuel - stingray; flying-fox - bat
==Sponsor Name: Broken Wings==
=Contest Name: Trashed #2=
==6th place==
O. E. Guillermo
2:49pm, September 04, 2015
Venice, the daughter of the sea
Winding paths, waterways or cobblestones roads
Rulers of the renaissance, noblemen would be
Her navy full of conquests, her triumphs all would see
From nobility rose, a woman fair
Her life a whirlwind, with her share of despair
Banished from Venice, for daring to speak
Her desires and wit, did many a man seek
The golden rose the pope did give
As she fled to Florence, so young and deceived
Her strength in spirit and a mind so refined
Her friend Marco, the captain, with whom she dined
He parted his wisdom as best he could
He sailed victorious, for Bianca he should
His secret was safe out on the seas
Which is why he and Bianca, could never be
Her royal blood would keep her in stead
As nobility in Florence would turn their heads
Francesco indeed would commission a palazzo
For Bianca his mistress, in waiting, his queen
The Grand Duchy of Florence, all powers bestowed
A seeker of knowledge, of wisdom composed
His Austrian wife, alone, cold and barren
Could not compete, with his love yet to be
They danced, they confided, in each they held
A love of intellect, beauty and lust to be feld
And sadly, one day, the enemies of Venice
Plotted and schemed to bring about a demise
The poison was swift, and an era did end
In a villa in Florence, Francesco was dead
Bianca his love, her beauty unblemished
Fell by his side, and whispered to thee
My dear, my love, it was meant to be
Bianca Cappello (1548 – 17 October 1587)
Note: OK OK I invented 1 new word, that's what poets do
~*~
Oh, my city is very beautiful!
In every changing season of the year;
the downtown center is quite musical,
with outside places for coffee and beer.
The different sections have festivals,
and there are so many farmer markets;
In the winter we have fun carnivals,
and I like to stroll- hands in my pockets.
Tourists from the world come to my city!
We have monuments and architecture;
our many parks and waterways pretty,
there are bike paths and tons of adventure.
If you like museums, art, concerts, plays,
come to my city- maybe stay always!
____________________________________
December 28, 2016
Poetry/Sonnet/My City
Copyright Protected, ID 16-861-658-0
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.
My city - Ottawa, Ontario, Canada
For the contest, Sonnet About Where You Live
Sponsor, Silent One
First Place
Today, the sun shone brightly over our shores.
Peering over the forest and meeting the cores
We share fundamental truths across the waterways.
across the grasslands, then onto the Himalayas.
Past somatic feelings are cognitively preserved.
Spirit is the natural extension of cognition.
Spirit and mind foresee the body, the spirit swerved.
Together, the mind and body create resolution.
The universe's sound is centered around silence.
A quiet that gives rise to that sound—its essence
Silence increases, dilates, expands, and evolves.
It's able to watch the blooming of other carves.
It is as copernican as the light we pass through.
Pedagogical schools have the same faint glow.
Solving math, questioning the past, or visual atom.
"I have a dream," I was told, to be in a ruling stratum.
Our lives connect us to grains and corncobs.
warmed by miners and dry wind turbine jobs.
Sugarcane is used to acquire paper and rubber.
My father's hands were swollen from scrubber.
Our biggest mistake was playing the drama alone.
as if life were a subtle crime without atone.
Denying respect is feeling neglected in a cage.
Shouts were buried by choruses, width, and rage.
Let the beat off your loneliness and start talking.
Your warmth tends to compile the kettle singing.
The world's fauna and birds are plainly unique.
Your life is ready and waiting for its peak.
Written: December 29, 2022
Patterns are evident throughout God’s creation.
A nucleus determines the pattern of every cell.
And the seas shape patterns for shores and straits.
Why should stars not have their patterns as well?
A city has skylines of steel, glass, and brick,
As stately as a mountain range of ridges.
Music holds patterns within every chord,
Much like urban waterways feature bridges.
An egg rests snug and secure in its bird nest,
Like a nebula embedded with a protostar or baby sun.
Here the protostar begins its long life,
Following the pattern ancient as the eternal fun.
In the cosmos patterns are not one size fit all.
So, each pattern fits one star at a time.
One for the massive giant and others for small,
Since little stars live longer in the cosmic clime.
Less mass means long life with many patterns,
While the giant’s life is less eventful and long.
Of course, all these patterns are seen only by God,
And serve as aspirations for man’s dream and song.
Vanity
A poem about vanity in life inspired by Ancient Greek Wisdom
As I wake up abruptly every single dawn
With my body still asleep on futility’s lawn
My spirit needs a fiery, enervating quick jolt
To nail down my awareness with God’s divine bolt
And as the day’s continuity progresses slowly
My frail mind transforms my soul silently
To seek our Father’s love and compassion
And His heavenly treasure and full passion
Oh! supreme vanity, goddess of futility
You mark our short life most eloquently
As you guide us with your values and premises
To consider all matters without the goal of destiny
For without God’s divine purpose and infinity
All life ends up in the turbulent waterways of vanity
Waiting, with no end, for the pleasure of happiness
Disregarding all elements of ethics and human wellness
Oh! Greatest vanity of glorious vanities
How weak you make the old and the wise
How you bond us all well with divine fate
How silly you make men who think they are great
Dearest God, bless us to be, in our life, mighty
So that we express our goodness to all needy
For without Your words we are all bereft totally
Waiting our final turn in the valley of dire mortality
Taking into deep consideration the following ancient Greek sayings:
1. By Aristotle: ‘Suffering becomes beautiful when anyone bears great calamities with cheerfulness, not through insensibility but through greatness of mind’.
2. By Plato: ‘Eternal time is the only truth while what happens in our world are icons of vanity of our emotions’.
3. By Empedocles: ‘You must plunge beneath your crowded thoughts and calmly contemplate the higher realities with pure, focused attention. If you do this, a state of inspired serenity will remain with you throughout your life, shaping your character and benefiting you in so many ways. But if you direct your attention instead to the trivial things most people obsess about, the silly nonsense that dulls their minds, you’ll just acquire more objects which you’ll only lose anyway’.
Such a spiteful petulant bloated fake
Waterways’ names aren’t for you to take
With hubris your guide
Set your golf clubs aside
And go jump in your rechristened lake!
'in the blink of an eye"
the camera lense inside my eye decided to take flight
upon an adventurous love affair intending to ignite
while in the midst of viewing landscapes beautiful symmetry
capturing on eternal film every earthly mystery.
in Rome , the Trevi Fountain intoxicates by bell
enticing fond admirers to cast coins in wishing well
while gondolas in Venice charm romantic lovers ride
upon blue azure waterways where gentle breezes abide.
feeling incredible power of Mount Vesuvious volcano
inhaling cathedral windows in Padua with classic staino
motor boat sking on white crested waves of the Amalfi Coast
treasured sights of Italy, to tourists, plays great host.
my lense kidnaps a winery in Tuscany's grape vineyard
absorbing growing vines of fruit in softly blowing windward
toasting wine is an Italian custom of friendly greeting
ingesting sights so breathtaking invigorates heart beating.
journeying to Positano Harbor for cool boat races
snapping photos vigrously as challengers heighten their paces
a lovely paradise exists on Florence steamy sandy beach
as twilight horizon canopy glows as pretty as ripe peach.
in the blink of an eye the mind hides memories of travel
forever encased inside the lense protected from unravel
a treasure chest of cherished moments envisioned with deep sigh
a fabulous adventure preserved within the blink of an eye.
*For SandyIvy's Viewing Life Through Camera Lenses Contest.
*Nov. 13, 2012.
22 June 2010
A Breakaway
For mankind has the power to think big
History puts them on the pedestal of their career
Aimless drifting until fatally engaged into a drilling rig
Raised a surface at the heart of the sea to exploit oil on its frontier
Oil wells at the deepest sea-bed formed million years ago
Also, a marine habitat that proliferates at the cold bottom
Rendezvous for waterfowl and aquatic mammals arrived apropos
To add spectacle to the blue water, as accustomed
The freshwater flowing in a cascade of sparks
The sea free access to an ocean while some in landlocked
Life on Earth comes in the seas and we proceed to embark
As ocean currents supply the heat energy round the clock
Many ritually unclean substances are passing into oceans
Adulterating the purity of water in its freshness
Oil spills from off-shore and tanker spread discoloration
Suffocating marine life and ingesting illness
Chronicling the ecological cycle literally affect the food chain
Stripping resistant to their organic structure and suffer
From the toxins of oil spill prevents water replenishment
Coating aquatic surface with stain holding tougher
A closer look at dead birds and aquatic mammals
Leaving a baleful mark on the waterways
Cleaning up the breakdown oil is costly and fatal
That I may see no more escalating sense of bad omen into the ocean’s forays
13th place winner to:
GULF OIL SPILL CONTEST
7/4/2010 Sponsored by Team PoetrySoup
Norfolk waterways
are full of navy vessels
God bless the navy
Stilled again across the canals broadening
Girth;
Mesh cages of rock-filled Gabions
Reinforcing patches of exposed and arid earth,
Reflecting the glints that gleefully
Twist and dance in the hot glare of the sun...
Provoking images and stirring indefinable feelings
That begin to irrevocably up and run;
Pictures and voices crowding into my mind:
Immersing me in the flooding moments
To which i am briefly resigned.
Now momentarily staid by the shimmering
Instance
In which i find myself inextricably caught,
Perplexed by something rather intangible,
Seeming almost to tease and laugh
Whilst confounding upon my evasive and
Fleeting thoughts;
As glancing across at the opposite bank
Where drawn up a line of densely packed trees..
I swore...I heard the reel of a high squealing
Fiddle -
Playing ever so briefly alongside a tricky little
Breeze.
For stood there I, wondering,
On a grey painted swing-bridge:
Of brightly painted Steamers, dirty Trampers
And of double masted white canvassed Brigs.
Oh! The everlasting glory of a New World order
Redefined:
Entrusted to those instructed in her Majesties
Construction of sprawling Victorian sublimes!
The men who heroically dug, picked, blasted and
Strove:
To securely fasten an Iron cast girdle around
An ever diminishing blue globe.
Dreaming of long ago, dutiful, Golden-Age days
Rigorously pursued down, what are now,
Weed strewn, abandoned byways.
Faustian clothing and a Velveteens cap;
The thick buckled leather gaiters held about
By the strap.
Many the word spoken in a soft southern brogue:
All hail the glorious navigators -
The navvies of old!
Staunch and desperate men forced to resign
Their native Gaelic shores
And burden unto themselves with
Mattocks, shovels and garishly painted-up whores.
Under the high flaming beacons
And over the obscure little brow -
They carved out the new waterways
To float the laden down prow.
Yes! Men of the Emerald Isles
I salute you and your kinsfolk
From lands cast westwards afar:
The magnificent "Paddies" from the verdant island -
Of Erin-Go-Bragh!
The working navvy did dig deep
He followed Brindly’s new laid plan
A transport system to complete
A salvation for the labouring man
As the furrow cut with sweat and maul
With breaking backs and torn sinew
Each man in turn to heave and haul
Sustenance for starving kin renew
Tracts of land transform through spade and pick
Veins enriching the countryside
Bringing new life, each shovel, each brick
Levelling earth, raising national pride
A true revelation this arterial plan
Almost lost through modernisation
Abandoned, grown dense, dispirit man
As steam and diesel grew within the nation
Each lock assiduously built
Before first steam engine’s whistle blew
Weeds strangle, progressive man’s new guilt
The canals ebb, debris as seeds strew
More beauteous now than ever been
Our arterial chart of the waterway
Each torn muscle, victuals did glean
Bed and nourishment for one more day
The navvy’s ghosts look down, heads held high
Their gnarled hands rest in heavenly peace
Majestic waterways dug in sweat with sigh
A once industrial, now beautiful masterpiece.
© 16/11/2013 GG Inspired by Harry J Horsmans'
free verse 'The Cut' which is a colloquial name for a canal
As life roars on I keep my grace.
Just watch the love light on my face.
This inner strength is mine to own
to soften a heart once made of stone.
Natural beauty dwells inside.
The truth of that I need not hide.
A broken spirit's finally healed.
The joys of life will be revealed.
So I will swim these waterways
making the most of all my days.
I'll hold the sunset in my eyes
and sail beneath the moon struck skies.
I chose Swan because it means true beauty ,power of self, love and grace. I feel this is a good depiction of how my life has turned around and how I have now got love in my life which has helped to heal me.