Best Watery Poems
Flippers up
Flippers down
Wave those flippers
All around
Swish your tail
From side to side
Create a wake
A water slide
Take a plunge
Dive down deep
Your body propelled
As up you leap
Hey, Sea Lion
Clap your hands
When you perform
You grandstand*
*To grandstand means to 'ham it up'
As summer’s hope dreamt it had caught him,
days tallied boardwalk planks one by one.
Candles became golden skies burned dim
beyond evening’s watery sun.
How I tried to help you with my friend,
but she had built a sandcastle there.
Only time and advice left to lend
on a beach came that one morning’s glare.
Another wound to scar that bled youth,
ran over before it had begun.
By the grains of chance and a tanned truth,
tides washed another watery sun.
11.25.15
century later in a watery grave
souls of the elite as well as peons
float about the wreckage
boarding in Southampton
Dad carried jewels to sell in the States
I, just a teen, came along to see the sights
Dad’s money purchased rooms on the top tier
artistically designed ball room was aglow
bright lights, sumptuous food and fancily-clad dancers
in my youth, I cared naught for such things
down the stairway I flew to see the lower class
strumming guitars and telling raunchy jokes
but the joke was on me it seems
suddenly, the boat hit an iceberg
on the lower level I was trapped
screams were heard above
as passengers sought seats on lifeboats
not enough room, fear ignited
ship took on water; we felt it first
still trying to find a way to the top deck
once there, I saw Dad had left me behind
lights were still on as the boat tore in half
on the bow I stood with a small crowd
as into the icy waters we dropped
tried to swim; the sea was too cold
on my maiden voyage, much like the ship,
I succumbed as screams faded
my spirit so lively, it could not die
with 1,517 others my soul was held captive below
New York was not our final destination
Dad made it to the Big Apple
no family with him as he made his financial deal
what he earned fell short of what he lost
century later in this same watery grave
souls of the elite as well as peons
float about the wreckage, praying for release
*Entry for Tracie’s “My Heart Will Go On” contest
Written March 29, 2012
There once was a fellow called Dwight,
Who thought a water bed was right,
But his house caught on fire,
And the outcome was dire,
When he was poached to death that night. *
For Natalie's Fun Death contest
* Based on an old joke, like the man who tried to hang himself with a piece of elastic and bashed his brains out on the ceiling, LOL
I Shall not kneel...Beyond the depths
Of the tears... Long since have fallen...
Nor shall I gather... Again amongst them..
'Less their untimely stage of demise...
Binds the hands of space and time..
And I ripen into a single grain of salt..
Amidst their long standing...Watery grave...
the watery sun
fails to brighten the grey day- -
icy raindrops fall
The watery grave
Is proof I was saved.
It wasn't my death
Only the funeral
For a life on Death Road.
God is so practical.
Doesn't use dirt
Only a liquid grave:
A useful coffin
For useless life.
Then a watery resurrection
Fresh
Innocent
Pure
New
Something that has never existed before
Rises powerfully,
To an endless life
With unnatural desires
For a consummate God.
Exchanged offering
Exchanged capacity
For a watery entrance;
Unfair
Outrageous...
Wonderful !.
I saw you grin, oh Fossegrim,
when by your waterfall...
I was entranced, oh Fossegrim
and that's not only all.
You taught me tunes, oh Fossegrim,
on your watery violin!
Teach me more, oh Fossegrim,
and I will pay you well.
I need to play as good as you,
and not play an awful din.
I want to play as you do play
upon your i n s t r u m e n t,
that when I go, I'll not r e l e n t
a watery violin.
-----------------------------------------
Fossegrim, in Norwegian legend, is
a spirit who lives in waterfalls.
He helps people to play the
violin if they pay him well.
3/24/2018
Contest - Love Letter II
Sponsor - Viv Wigley
3rd place win
autumn fast faded
watery eyes winter came
efface all brown hues
I sparkle and
burst into flame.
The winds leave no mark
of my ashes to claim.
While losing the linchpin of my body,
resulting in vaporization,
disarray engulfs my land
until I’m decomposed from composition.
I should be unborn.
This world fills me with remorse.
Corpses over corpses honor the dead’s tears
at the tomb with no guide
in which I reside.
Dishonor leads me lost and astray,
and this world is a wasteland—
a watery death of disarray.
One time a stickleback
Asked a tadpole what’s the craic
He replied there’s nothin’ doing
It’s just the water I was viewing
So he slurped a glass of gin
And let the stickleback begin
To swim upside down in loops
Until his eyes began to droop
I’m becoming very dizzy
Feels like the Mississippi
The stickleback then stopped
The tadpole’s eyes had nearly popped
The stickleback said sorry
Do you like calamari?
The tadpole then replied
When I’m swimming with the tide
I find it can be chewy
It turns my tail real gooey
The stickleback said no way
It makes a rather nice buffet
They then said their goodbyes
And the stickleback advised
Calamari you shouldn’t swallow
Or trouble it will follow
Good luck and take it handy
Said the tadpole sipping brandy
The stickleback swam off
To have some beer and stroganoff
Look high to the hills to see peaks of icy water laden tops
Water is flowing downwards into winding streams
The permeation of ponds, lakes, rivers and the mighty seas
Thus a supply-chain like feed supplying all watery needs
The Sun's fierce heat induces water evaporation
A dark daunting nimbostratus starts hovering
A mystical misty moist cloud of condensation
that produces many rain droplets pouring
White-water overflows in steep canyon gorges
Grapes, figs and dates in the fields are made ripened
Flowers flourish and many fruits can be eaten
Water is flowing resolutely and continually,
into the great ocean's mouth
Sun's incandescence purifies water:
Water vapors are making an upward ascension
to clouds of cumulus, cirrocumulus and cirrus
These are white fluffy aeronautical rain vehicles
The waters again start descending:
To form again white snowy watery capped ice tops
This upon many mountains zenith spots
This a perpetual, continuous, isochronism
of the Life supporting cycle:
Ice, Liquid and Vapor
All making an ever vibrant and repeated musical
crescendo, nature's "Watery Phases"
Blazing proximity,
wild racing pulses,
unspoken signals,
silence speaking
more than words;
he takes her hand
leading to the room,
anticipation building,
rushing eagerly on
with each heartbeat;
his eyes intense on her,
she sheds her clothes
and him following suit
unable to wait any longer
for that magical moment;
raging bodies revealed
now but for tiny strips
hiding almost nothing
from the captive other,
mysteries fully bared;
the macho man grabs,
the temptress obeys,
knowing exactly well
what they both desire
as they run and dive…
into the swimming pool!
If life were an ocean,
My loved ones would be the waves
That appear before me and leave.
If life were a river,
My loved ones would be the lake,
And even though we separate,
We’ll always be connected to each other.
If life were simply water,
My loved ones would be the land,
In which we will always meet again and again.
Look at the river
As rough as the sea
It's like a watery pathway
To mystery...
Never stopping
Never changing the path
Some even have names
Like the Nile
Or the Amazon
Olhe para o rio
Áspera como o mar
É como um caminho aquático
Para mistério ...
nunca parar
Nunca alterar o caminho
Alguns até têm nomes
Como o Nilo
Ou a Amazon