A tiny tugboat chugs along,
And hums a happy, smoky
song.
It pulls the giant ships to
shore,
Through ocean waves that
crash and roar,
Because its iron heart is
strong.
Juniper stars give way to Juniper years.
Lions tasting the snowfall we danced like children at play.
Our hope is our father who charted every second of our Juniper lives.
Day dreaming about limitless peace from hope restored.
Open to sunshine and days before my Ana who is my morning sky.
Lazy days spent dreaming of her juniper eyes hazel as my own.
Wild hearts yearning for love and connection.
Yeshua made Ana my best friend the one whom I love to talk with.
Yeshua is also my best friend as I was raised by Theodore Tugboat who taught me we can have many
best friends not just one.
Love restored in my heart by Friendship so real it makes me smile every day.
Kami even if we never officially talk again thank you and Trust in Jesus.
Ana you are the Rose whose name is written on my heart forever.
Brenda has a big bottom,
it causes quite a wake
as she swims toward me.
Soft girl steaming up to my ********
chuffing like a tugboat,
mouth as wide as a catfish.
Such things are not written of
nearly enough.
The brunette smile withdrew into her dream world,
as goldenrod sun melted away in storm.
The petrichor-scented parasol thus twirled,
aft’ windswept fall of sailor, in uniform,
upon her sand, carried on where lightning hurled.
This seaman-salt, seasoned with charm, keeps her warm.
Fantastical, a mermaid can dream, can’t she?
How unlikely, her tale be true, but could be?
But turns the tide, a sailor is in tugboat,
her flotsam hair gets caught on cutie’s tugline.
She’s wiled him, but her song gets snared in her throat.
Sea water’s foaming; her tail’s thrashing at spine.
Her wild world’s drenched. She needs a dreamboat-raincoat.
Comes back to earth, sits he, on blanket with wine.
Fantastical, a mermaid can dream, can’t she?
How unlikely, her tale be true, but could be?
A tugboat was pushing a barge.
I wondered just who was in charge
For the cargo on board,
Which I wish I’d ignored,
Raised some issues which somehow loomed large.
Porta-potties were lined up in rows.
Full or empty? Too far for my nose,
But the thought of that load
Being merrily towed
Made me hope there was naught to dispose.
Certain subjects make some people blush,
With activities often hush-hush,
So those toilets afloat
May make many take note
That it’s better to deal with a flush.
A warped board on a bench seat
causing discomfort
to an old bum, an aching foot,
a touch of pity all came to keep me
self-sealed inside a bag of skin.
I took no note of the river
almost licking at my feet,
the evening's prayerful quiet,
the sky slowly switching on
its nightly extravaganza of stars.
I was too far into myself
to see past my rim.
One can get lost in a stare,
that blank, formless blur
reflecting the endless distances
stretching across the self.
I was bubbled there.
Then slowly things happened,
a tugboat went past, seagulls
protested my presence,
the smell of river mud
thickened the air.
I stepped out and saw
an old man on a bench seat
who I have long known,
brushed the dandruff
from his shoulders,
helped him up and walked
him home.
Brenda has a big bottom,
it causes quite a wake
as she swims toward me.
Soft girl steaming up to my election
chuffing like a tugboat,
mouth as wide as a catfish.
Such things are not written of
nearly enough.
The garbage barge is floating large,
A tugboat smoothly towing.
The seagulls swoop, a noisy group,
To follow where it’s going.
I sit and stare, quite unaware
Of who might pass behind me,
But those who know where I might go
Would very quickly find me.
Unless it’s wet or winter’s net
Has trapped me and it’s freezing,
I’ll be right here, the river near,
To all my senses pleasing.
The sky is blue, the river’s gray
And autumn leaves are on display.
The buildings ‘cross the river hide
Whatever’s going on inside.
The flags all flutter, strung up high
And bicycles go rolling by.
The dogs, on leashes, bark or yip,
Their owners tightening their grip.
A mighty tugboat pulls a barge;
A nanny strolls by with her charge.
The joggers, dressed for summer, pass
As couples sprawl out on the grass.
A lovely autumn afternoon –
This weather will be gone real soon,
So I’ll enjoy it while I can,
For who knows Mother Nature’s plan?
A baby cries, the ferry toots;
A dog will not stop yapping.
A sparrow chirps, the traffic hums;
A flag is gently flapping.
A jogger’s footfalls pound the path;
A motorboat goes chugging.
A barge, though large, makes quiet splashes
With its tugboat tugging.
Bits of conversations drift;
A radio starts blasting.
Urban peace is something that
You cannot count on lasting.
Still, out on the esplanade,
In sunshine, all is pretty,
As here I sit and listen to
The soundtrack of the city.
The Slight Light of the Moon
David J Walker
Everyone is in
Everyone is done
Everyone
under the sun
is in the same boat
It’s a big boat
It’s a tugboat
It’s a lifeboat
That won’t float
On Solipsism’s alone
It’s an
Oceanliner the color of
October with a canoe
And an outboard motorboat
Lost on an ocean stretching
As far across the Milky Way as
The naked eye …
Oh say, can you see, anything
Beyond vituperate inflictions
Fired from the big guns
From the map of a compendiums instructions
The first-rate illustrations are
Lost in Space and Time
The Big Boat is mine
The small boat is fine
But it’s yours
Everyone on the dreamboat
Will slowly float
Into the slight light of
The moon
The playground hadn’t opened;
The sun had yet to rise
And many might think walking
In the dark would not be wise.
A mist hung by the river,
A tugboat pulled a barge;
The cars inched down the F.D.R.,
Their headlights looming large.
The puddles, partly hidden,
Glinted dully in the gloom,
Soon to saturate some sneakers
Not expecting them to loom.
It was magic to be walking;
The few others I did see
Were the regulars who love
Their early exercise, like me.
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.
It seems a tugboat has a choice
When dealing with a barge –
To push it or to pull it
And I wonder who’s in charge
Of making that decision
Or what factors are in play.
Is pushing better sometimes?
I don’t know enough to say.
Most often when I see a tug
It’s chugging right behind
The barge or boat it’s pushing
And it doesn’t seem to mind.
Yet earlier today I saw
A tugboat in the lead,
Pulling piles of huge containers,
An accomplishment, indeed.
For that tug was proudly doing
Lots of tugging, like its name.
When it pushes from behind, to me,
It isn’t quite the same.
A tugboat needs a river;
A sailboat needs a sail.
In order to deliver,
A mailman needs some mail.
A baker needs an oven;
A bicycle needs wheels
And pets require lovin’
And a place to sleep and meals.
Plants need sun and water;
Children need fresh air.
Every son and daughter
Needs a mom or dad to care.
Feet need shoes or sandals;
Stores need lots of stuff.
Birthday cakes need candles;
Just to wish is not enough.
Schools require teachers
And kids who want to learn.
Movies showing features
Need their patrons to return.
I’d go on forever
If inclined to take the time
For I’ll jump at each endeavor
Which requires a little rhyme.
Sub Categories
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.