Watercourse Poems | Examples

Watercourse

Invisible to eye,
not because I don’t see,
but I refuse to look,
be baptized by water.
   I drink gin;
   kin to pride.
   I won’t win;
   sin is sly.
   Satan’s grin.

The Beauty

The beauty
Of
Namatjira
White haired
Bark painter's
Of fish
Wandjina
Feathered man
Full sunset
Corroboree
Pintubi
Dancers
In watercourse 
Colours
Of hills
And rangers
Near Henbury
Or was it
Kings canyon
South
Alice springs
Dome like peaks
Of Olga's
Stark landscape
Barren
Barkly
Near Soudan
Where
Dust storms
A common hazard
The faces
Of William Richetts
In the Maelstrom
Those colours
Of time
And day
House Wife's
Bushman
Children of the
Banka, Banka
Old hats
Tin shacks
The Southern Cross
Spinning
Creaking
Just there
In the sky
A Rhyme
To its own time
Wonky
Old water tank
Those proud
Spearman
From
Emily Gap
A shared history
Not us
Them
Just the
Layers of life
Turned sideways
Like
Krichauff Rangers
Somewhere
Out west
Where Echidna
Thorny Devil
( my favourite )
Freshwater tortoises
Swimming
Crocs
Beauty
In birds
Of flowers
Palms
In valleys
Secrets
Of bushman
Ringers
Dreams
Of its people
And fading
Its
Fading
Memories

Nature Vs Google - Unrhythmic Villanelle

Without uttering a word, nature preaches. 
A google search may hold all the answers except for 'self'. 
The watercourse way reveals the solution one seeks. 

A cloudless sky, a blank canvas. 
Over four million results for 'self' but none about self. 
In the direction of purpose, the river flows. 

The best teachers of life's cycle are sunrises and sunsets. 
The moon's phases hold more responses than Google itself. 
Each sunrise carries more hope than a thousand quotes. 

Trees heal without charging fees. 
Maps directs on every journey except on the path to finding oneself. 
Nature's constituents are the best counselors for feeble souls. 

Where better to learn the beauty of patience than from the enduring oaks. 
Voice often knows how to assist except with emotional health. 
The wind blows and alleviates the weight of doubts and worries. 

Each sunrise is a second chance, 
On a hunt for the input that gives an output for self,
A new chapter is cued by each moon phase,
To get to the ocean, follow as the river flows.

The Beach

Let’s go to the beach
Through the yellow beckoning of lupin, broome and gorse
Play in the sand, dig a watercourse
Place your towel on the stick poking up from the sand, run into the ocean and stop.
Dip your hand up to your wrists to get used to the cold.
Now take the dip, dive under the wave
See that smile break as you ride the waves in
Float on the waves be they broken or smooth rocked by the ocean, stay close to the shore avoid the rip holes, body surf the crashing waves in
Now out you hop
There’s a fire burning brightly
Potatoes in silver are ready to eat
Put your bread on a stick  
Toast in the fire then butter it.

An Answer To At the River Song In Progress-

based on words by PARIS-MAREE BOREHAM 


At the river song in progress 

She was walking on watercourse side
Upright I was just there I cry
Our aperture optic orbs spied
Each other's visual spear 

oh!  I come as a river song 
As I stand here I come 
The words of angels beloved I sing 
Sing a river song 
Come with me darling 
Singing come, come along
 come along 

We see each other 
Let's walk along edge of rivers edge cover 
Where we stand on the edge 
at a river song in progress

Come with me darling 
Saying come come along 
Come along 

Start across standing on the rocks 
We walk closer together we stop we talk 
I must go I shall show 
She's a beloved angel 
Embracing and starstruck giddiness sturdy

 I will go 
I must go
 I shall show

Show her my ways 
It's time for me to embrace her 
As we walk we talk on the land
 alongside the Riverside 
As we both whisper water I spy
By my side a woman 
We bring together 

We sing in harmony In progress at the River song 
Just two persons in progress singing the river song

1/5/22
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr & Paris-Maree Boreham ©2022

Mother's Love

Of all an up-cheered rippling
The one constant
Watercourse. Thus vowed, strays not.
Nor turns stagnant.

Soothed of which thought, instinctual
Reversed cant be
Whilst swamped, this lil' craft of being
By life's rough sea!

Dry Spell

We bite the dust every morning,
spitting gray powder, like desperados.
Firebirds nosedive in forewarning, 
perverting the trees into hell’s tornadoes.

We taste sooted smog on our tacky tongues,
dragging all our shadows of remorse.
Finding no habitat for our wheezing lungs,
we long for the rain’s fecund watercourse. 

We find Death Valley spreading like a contagion,
and dodge parched patches, bruised and baked by sol. 
So delirious our meandering, we know not our region,
our infernal night camps reek of cinder and wood coal. 

We chant, not knowing the meaning of an arcane lyric,
unsure how to summon the recondite eidolon of Seth.
As city shells smolder, all chronic hearts await some mantic.
Surely hell will freeze over, so we wait with bated breath.

The Shape of Water

Water takes any and many shapes,
in a glass, bowl, pot, vase, tub, sink,
swimming pool. Fruits such as grapes,
plums, melons, left they dry and shrink.
Your body is made up to sixty percent
of water. Water is transparent, tasteless,
odorless, the matter of seventy-one percent
of which the earth is made. Water, made into
steam, water vapor, and begins to fade.
It comes in the form of rain, fog,
its solid-state ice and snow.

A natural flowing watercourse on land,
usually freshwater river. Flowing towards
an ocean, sea, lake or another river.
In some cases, a river flows into the ground
and becomes dry at the end of its course.


6/23/2021

Haiku

facile reverie
                          descending to tidal shore
               watercourse marvel


Haiku Contest
April 15, 2018

Minuanetta- Your Love Is Like a Reverie

Your LOVE is like an adoring reverie,
               like pebbles on a shore you surface me-
Like a tide in the sand you set me free,
     you bring healing to this heart’s TRIBUTARY.
You flow through me like a tender memory. 

       I need you like a babbling brook of infatuation, 
in REVERENCE to the stream of our veneration-
              You bring a watercourse of life’s inspiration 
and ease with a sincere CURRENT of alleviation. 

           There’s a deluge running through my veins, 
 now only a waterway of LOYALTY remains-
             You are mother nature’s beauty my heart contains. 

      We share a fluvial flow of a lover’s CONNECTION,
             an aqueous cascade showering me with affection. 

The slightest touch of your hand sends a piety of EMOTION.

           This flux in motion has caused such flattery, 
                       making me so GRATEFUL for your beloved creation-
               Each time you caress me my soul obtains
                     a meandering stream of pure perfection. 
                                      For your love is like a reverie of DEVOTION. 




January 27th, 2018

All Things Norse

ALL THINGS NORSE

These are the guys in horn-helmets of course,
And the biggest hammer was always Thor’s.
They traveled each European watercourse
From the mouth to the source, 
And their transport was boat  - never by horse. 
They were preoccupied with trade as a resource 
And with local women had lots of intercourse.
Regardless of  singularity, marriage  or divorce.
Their own huts were simply made from gorse  
But they destroyed better villages with no remorse:    
They did everything by force.  
Their language was often coarse,   
Usually yelling themselves hoarse.
But relatively little is known of their discourse
For their code was always morse.

27  July  2014

The River

The river runs its winding course
along an ageless bank I stand
ceaselessly brewing silty soup
a recipe of dirt and sand….
I played in youth along these shores
And swam its raging watercourse
Wearing makeshift suits, swimming nude,
floating its breadth on inner tubes….
Alas! Those days are nevermore.
… As I mused my lost childhood years
Seeing this eternal river
from a timeless riverbank
it’s hard to fathom life’s changes
until I saw my wrinkly hands.

Gent Morse and His Horse

With bent torso, fenced horse Corso,
Tows corpulent gent Morse into a Kent forest.

This portly source torments tense Corso to such a contentious extent
That he sends them off course with vehement force to show his discontent.

“Whoa”, vents the incensed Morse 
With voice tense and hoarse from onerous discourse.  

“Endorse a gentle course,
And dissent from one so dense and coarse.”

With sore torso resentment, Corso forewent his horse-sense and sent
Enormous Morse into a torrential watercourse from Trent.

“You senseless, offensive, violent horse,” 
Chorused the tortured, drenched Morse.  

Yet, Morse lamented and swore to descent his portly content, 
As soon as Corso implements his chores back in Kent.

And to mend his sores
From his hell-bent horse, 

Reinvented Morse reinforced his orders
By tensing the cords toward extensive fence borders. 

With a consenting snort for repented gent Morse,
The contented horse, relented pretenses and wended a short decent course.

For Sheri's couplet contest

O, My Life Like a Gray, Gray Smoke,

O, my life like a gray, gray smoke,
That's newly pillowing from an old engine.
O, my life like a trumpeting
That's sweetly sounded by an elephant.

As fair as a river, my life stream in meanders,
So deep in gush am I;
And I will pour thee still, my watercourse,
Till a' the seas gang flood.

Till a' the seas gang flood, my stream in deluge,
And the rocks bath in sweeping waves:
I will spurt jet out till, my waterway,
While the sands o' life shall run:

And fare thee well, my only grit!
And fare thee influence, a while!
And I will draw closer again, my currents
It was routine thousand atoms transmutation.

In the Garden of Love

Angels amass amid the garden of surety with their watercourse formulas

In pristine pails pouring tenderly this life in decreeings drops upon my Soul 

Its soil summoned to be nourished; fertile words as light from, The Rising Sun 

Visible in their warmth alive that I may reach high these visions petals....

Vestives fragrant fingertips; unto quintessentials eternal skies so promised

Paragons in perfection borne to embrace my joyous heart within sacreds gentle 

Anointings; as that of a sweet aroma for all to behold throughout the heavens 

Cherubs gathering with their pristine pails and watercourse formulas; a decree....

****************************************************************

....“Celebrations Metropolis, Amid The Garden of Love” *

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