Quotes about heave, page 9
Like A Song Bird
Like A Song Bird
Every morning when I wake up
I open my dew-drenched sash window
to the lilting tune of the kiskadee
hopping and popping on a branch
of the jamoon tree
loaded with mouth-full bunches of
jamoon berries, purple and delicious
fresh-scented air wet with the morning dew
intoxicate my nostrils with a heave and sigh
I stretch my open arms
in welcome glee
to spread my soul among the trees
I wish my voice could echo
like a song bird
kiss-kiss-ka-dee
kiss-kiss-ka-dee
to make me free.
poem by Leonard Dabydeen
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Annoyance In The Garden
I am distaste, I am the watcher of moons,
Cursing mystical realms is my carefulness.
The macabre noise burdens my soul like the care
I give and create for the purpose of annoyance.
I heave a boulder to the edge of the soil
I call my garden of noise and sounds, all birds.
It is a bewailing sound, siren of strong disaster,
Forming a grief in my heart so strongly that
Vivid images make my life unbearable.
Vapours machinate the resonance of the afternoon,
Burning is the soil from the sound of the noise.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Breath
Heave and breathe, for the sighs are there,
Fooling not anyone with their lower release.
Breathing is a scientific propulsion so worried in actuality,
May science sign a solution for the frenzy of forgetting.
Arts and works of supreme science require lesions,
Layers of effort, forced by innocence and breathing the brother
Of science - mathematics of expression, of expressing the intake.
Breathe and join our clan, when this dying art releases you
It stands on a path to be trodden, one to relaxation.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Genevieve
Maid of my love! sweet Genevieve!
In beauty's light you glide along;
Your eye is like the star of eve,
And sweet your voice, as seraph's song.
Yet not your heavenly beauty gives
This heart with passion soft to glow:
Within your soul a voice there lives!
It bids you hear the tale of woe.
When sinking low the suff'rer wan
Beholds no hand outstretched to save,
Fair, as the bosom of the swan
That rises graceful o'er the wave,
I've seen your breast with pity heave
And therefore love I you, sweet Genevieve!
poem by Samuel Taylor Coleridge
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To An Unfortunate Woman, Whom The Author Had Known In The Days Of Her Innocence
Myrtle leaf, that ill besped
Pinest in the gladsome ray,
Soiled beneath the common tread
Far from thy protecting spray!
When the partridge o'er the sheaf
Whirred along the yellow vale,
Sad, I saw thee, heedless leaf!
Love the dalliance of the gale.
Lightly didst thou, foolish thing!
Heave and flutter to his sighs,
While the flatt'rer on his wing
Wooed and whispered thee to rise.
Gayly from thy mother stalk
Wert thou danced and wafted high;
Soon on this unsheltered walk
Flung to fade, to rot, and die!
poem by Samuel Taylor Coleridge
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Why We Write
We write to run, we write to fly,
To soar above the world,
We cry to feel, we cry to lie,
To escape the hidden sword.
I pain to live, to breathe again,
To heave in breaths of light,
I gasp for air, I seek the men,
Those few free who fight.
The sorrow slays, the sadness seeps,
Into the bones of night,
Where none but I, in solitude weeps,
With the forsaken gift of sight.
We fall to flee, we fly to fall,
To land amongst the clouds,
Above the sobs, above the crowds,
Where the Dream Realm welcomes all.
poem by Jeremy Cahoon
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Test Run
Equipment experimental
new and untried.
Will successful performance
be user satisfied?
Many trials and failures
at what should be well known.
Sometimes with an audience
others alone.
Still somewhat unsure.
Is this time right for the test?
Confidence there
a bit shaky at best.
With a mighty heave!
The machinery is put in motion.
Each independent move
brings a flood of emotion.
[...] Read more
poem by Kurt Hearth
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Waves to fall in love
Men eyes heave on woman as waves, on the shore.
Each wave of men has got a crush on her.
Waves in succession rise and fall ashore,
Each flash yielding innumerable droplets,
That have very much bearing on the shore.
Do they do without a purpose?
Do they do without any pleasure?
Is not the pleasure itself a purpose?
Acts of love are an on-going pleasure.
It purrs the senses, thanks to dopamine.
It enlivens the body, thanks to Endorphin and Enkaphalins.
Loving is like breathing, with t he end in not view.
30.12.2002
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Headphones
Music in
World out
In my headphones I get rid of doubt
There in my world everything's right
In my world everything's tight
I wish I didn't have to leave
There I heave a sigh of relief
Music out
Back to the real world
But here I'm just a strange girl with strange talents
And a little off balance
I wish I could go back to my place
Where not fitting in just isn't the case
Music back in
I'm drowning the world out
Back to the place where there are no doubts
Back to the place where I belong
My awesome world of awesome song
poem by Sabrina McIntyre
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Docks
Strolling along
By the teeming docks,
I watch the ships put out.
Black ships that heave and lunge
And move like mastodons
Arising from lethargic sleep.
The fathomed harbor
Calls them not nor dares
Them to a strain of action,
But outward, on and outward,
Sounding low-reverberating calls,
Shaggy in the half-lit distance,
They pass the pointed headland,
View the wide, far-lifting wilderness
And leap with cumulative speed
To test the challenge of the sea.
Plunging,
Doggedly onward plunging,
[...] Read more
poem by Carl Sandburg
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