Tugboat Poems | Examples

Passing Joys

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.

A Mermaid can Dream

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?

The Cargo on Board

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.

Stepping Out One Evening

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.

Passing Joys

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.

Right Here

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.

Autumn Afternoon

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?

The Soundtrack

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

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

Early Morning Walk

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.

Tugboats and the Moon

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.

Push - Pull

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.

Needs To Read

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.

Cityscape

A tugboat, a ferry, a Circle Line cruise
All chug by on the river, for me to peruse.
A breeze gently blows as the waves settle down
As I soak it all up here on my side of town.

A ‘copter flits past with propellers a ‘whirl;
A scooter glides by with a helmeted girl.
A yappy white dog trots, his owner in tow
And sitting here clinches the truth that I know:

I’d rather be out on this riverside bench
(For no vista but this will my urban soul quench)
Than be anywhere private, with similar sights
For this cityscape fills me with all that delights.

By Any Other Name

The river’s not really a river
‘Cause water can flow either way.
Right now it is tumbling downtown.
Tomorrow? I simply can’t say.

The jet skiers seem not to mind much;
The same for each tugboat or ferry.
I wonder if they’re all aware that
They’re riding a brisk estuary.

When mapmakers draw up their pictures,
Simplicity’s what they deliver.
It’s hard to say East Estuary,
So that’s why it’s called the East River.

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