Water Poems
#water
Poems about water, one of the simple classical elements. together thought to explain the nature and complexity of all other things. Water, on one hand the ultimate source of life, and on the other a great destructive power. Water poems includes poetry about fountains, springs, lakes and oceans, and poems about rain water, drought and flooding. Also, poems about water as a feature of modern convenience.
Aptsky
Poem Published
13th Jul 2019 11:49pm
13th Jul 2019 11:49pm
Different route
Wishing well
I leave behind.
Don't want to fall,
dive too deep
into it's upside down tower
Don't want to slide off it's rough rocks
That fall deep
into a confining pool
Where id be caught
in a dungeon, water- filled cave
Leaving the sparkly seas behind.
The last thing I need
is to wish too hard
That I fall into it again
Then I'll have to wish for a way out
The forgiving seas
would never let me disagree
To take a different route
I leave behind.
Don't want to fall,
dive too deep
into it's upside down tower
Don't want to slide off it's rough rocks
That fall deep
into a confining pool
Where id be caught
in a dungeon, water- filled cave
Leaving the sparkly seas behind.
The last thing I need
is to wish too hard
That I fall into it again
Then I'll have to wish for a way out
The forgiving seas
would never let me disagree
To take a different route
#water
15 reads
0 Comments
SatInUGal
Kumar
Kumar
Poem Published
10th Jul 2019 1:13am
10th Jul 2019 1:13am
a brook
(brook visual poem)
#water
#WritingPoetry
#determination
44 reads
8 Comments
ImperfectedStone
The Gardener
The Gardener
Poem Published
6th Jul 2019 7:42pm
6th Jul 2019 7:42pm
- where you are, there. (After Wendell Berry)
In the Spring of '19 I felt a cloud on the huh
sprinkling cherry sized drops of warm, ceaseless life
and underneath a hazel we sat in the back yard
wandering through the memories of youth.
We'd wait for dearer women to return from their labour,
ropes of servitude tight around their ankles.
Your hair was dry from too much sand, I bitterly acknowledged,
living with the sea close to toes.
There, I see a way of existing that I would thrive on,
as you clearly do, dressed in Vitamin C's best robes.
From my ground floor flat I sometimes...
sprinkling cherry sized drops of warm, ceaseless life
and underneath a hazel we sat in the back yard
wandering through the memories of youth.
We'd wait for dearer women to return from their labour,
ropes of servitude tight around their ankles.
Your hair was dry from too much sand, I bitterly acknowledged,
living with the sea close to toes.
There, I see a way of existing that I would thrive on,
as you clearly do, dressed in Vitamin C's best robes.
From my ground floor flat I sometimes...
#beach
#moon
#water
#nature
#lover
42 reads
2 Comments
dejure
vick
vick
Poem Published
4th Jul 2019 11:19am
4th Jul 2019 11:19am
g o a t i t
umbeh eh eh eh eh!
the white goat screams
snuggled from behind
standing by the stream
the white goat screams
snuggled from behind
standing by the stream
#river
#animals
#water #funny
#water #funny
39 reads
3 Comments
oldgolfer
Poem Published
2nd Jul 2019 4:44am
2nd Jul 2019 4:44am
A Stream's Journey
Iron rods and hardwood sleepers
channel what is left of this stream
It finds its way around boulders,
is scooped aside by a wall of stones
to settle at an iron gate
Then it unrolls across the plain
It was harnessed
to quench the land’s thirst
Settlers, they said, were wide-eyed
as a finger of water settled the dust
channel what is left of this stream
It finds its way around boulders,
is scooped aside by a wall of stones
to settle at an iron gate
Then it unrolls across the plain
It was harnessed
to quench the land’s thirst
Settlers, they said, were wide-eyed
as a finger of water settled the dust
#earth
#water
#nature
21 reads
0 Comments
ImperfectedStone
The Gardener
The Gardener
Poem Published
28th Jun 2019 10:30pm
28th Jun 2019 10:30pm
To Dart
On a calm day,
when the Sun makes meat of the vulnerable
Brad stones call for their heart
and I hear them singing, from way down in the open river
in the Dartington estate, barefoot,
waist-high in oozing mud -
ready, waiting
to be next.
I sink in,
enjoying the decadence of it all -
the isolation, the familiar navigation,
the feeling of skin bathed clean.
The year has tumbled forward, with me tied to the cart enjoying every second of the life of it. I admire the mother duck and her 'lings, a grey wagtail sharing his hunt...
when the Sun makes meat of the vulnerable
Brad stones call for their heart
and I hear them singing, from way down in the open river
in the Dartington estate, barefoot,
waist-high in oozing mud -
ready, waiting
to be next.
I sink in,
enjoying the decadence of it all -
the isolation, the familiar navigation,
the feeling of skin bathed clean.
The year has tumbled forward, with me tied to the cart enjoying every second of the life of it. I admire the mother duck and her 'lings, a grey wagtail sharing his hunt...
#identity
#water
#sleep #freedom
#sleep #freedom
41 reads
1 Comment
cabcool
Poem Published
28th Jun 2019 5:25am
28th Jun 2019 5:25am
elements
a blended double octet
cool
w a t e r,
baptise m e
in your wellspring,
that i may be cleansed
of the ills t h a t haunt me.
quench the drought of barren lands,
let your a q u i f e r s s t r e a m o v e r,
that the near d e a d m a y r e c o v e r.
w e e p new oceans on parched sands,
so arid shores may s e e
with what great deference
y o u r anointing
j u b i l e e
charter
rules.
swift
flame, me
p u r i f y
by your...
cool
w a t e r,
baptise m e
in your wellspring,
that i may be cleansed
of the ills t h a t haunt me.
quench the drought of barren lands,
let your a q u i f e r s s t r e a m o v e r,
that the near d e a d m a y r e c o v e r.
w e e p new oceans on parched sands,
so arid shores may s e e
with what great deference
y o u r anointing
j u b i l e e
charter
rules.
swift
flame, me
p u r i f y
by your...
#fire
#water
#nature
43 reads
6 Comments
AaHarvey
Poem Published
25th Jun 2019 10:37am
25th Jun 2019 10:37am
Water Monkeys
Monkeys jump on all the rocks
And as the water flows, neither can stop
Because like water, the monkey knows,
That if it stops, it will be gone.
The water would evaporate
And if the monkey slips, it would be too late.
The water monkey is clean at heart.
In deepest rivers it would fall so far,
That it would never see life again;
But in the stream it can happily play all day.
So without fear the monkey leaps!
And into the stream it splashes with a scream.
A yell of delight, under scorching sunlight;
A place...
And as the water flows, neither can stop
Because like water, the monkey knows,
That if it stops, it will be gone.
The water would evaporate
And if the monkey slips, it would be too late.
The water monkey is clean at heart.
In deepest rivers it would fall so far,
That it would never see life again;
But in the stream it can happily play all day.
So without fear the monkey leaps!
And into the stream it splashes with a scream.
A yell of delight, under scorching sunlight;
A place...
#happiness
#death
#animals
#water
#nature
22 reads
0 Comments
Her_sunshine
Poem Published
25th Jun 2019 5:03am
25th Jun 2019 5:03am
Dead pigeons
in the overgrown chicken coop
chopped fir
drying in the sun
the sound of water
seeping into soil
sweet scented
swiss chard flowers
mask
stale smoke
as if you were here
waiting for me
to come in for dinner
chopped fir
drying in the sun
the sound of water
seeping into soil
sweet scented
swiss chard flowers
mask
stale smoke
as if you were here
waiting for me
to come in for dinner
#water
31 reads
0 Comments
ImperfectedStone
The Gardener
The Gardener
Poem Published
24th Jun 2019 9:11pm
24th Jun 2019 9:11pm
Tamar
Tamar
There are stories bound to your bloodstream, they warble riches across your timeline, bare vividness most naked in the mind. These are shared, not in their wholeness but as pebbles, never able to depict them in enthralling sobriety.
These tales slip by as fables, submerged in the valleys of myth ageing in tombs so holy, savoured by pilgrims moulding idols from old.
My words are born salted, linger in my mouth with the gravity of a landed boat, sail idly as a swan in sunshine before escaping. They stroke their gentle lullabies across long slumbering...
There are stories bound to your bloodstream, they warble riches across your timeline, bare vividness most naked in the mind. These are shared, not in their wholeness but as pebbles, never able to depict them in enthralling sobriety.
These tales slip by as fables, submerged in the valleys of myth ageing in tombs so holy, savoured by pilgrims moulding idols from old.
My words are born salted, linger in my mouth with the gravity of a landed boat, sail idly as a swan in sunshine before escaping. They stroke their gentle lullabies across long slumbering...
#happiness
#identity
#water #nature
#water #nature
68 reads
8 Comments
goldenmyst
Poem Published
24th Jun 2019 2:56pm
24th Jun 2019 2:56pm
Spring Has Sprung
Spring Has Sprung
Marsha and I lay on the yellow sandy creek beach looking at the pink glow of sunrise in the eastern sky. She reclines on her side facing me. I am supine in the sublimity of spring. We are both twenty and too old for wading in the creek. But spring has sprung and the desire to get more than our feet wet is strong. Marsha’s irises are azure as glacial ice. Her complexion is that of French vanilla. Her hair is like fine corn silk which lusters in the summer sun. Her hair giggles when she walks.
At St. Catherine Creek the water appears on fire...
Marsha and I lay on the yellow sandy creek beach looking at the pink glow of sunrise in the eastern sky. She reclines on her side facing me. I am supine in the sublimity of spring. We are both twenty and too old for wading in the creek. But spring has sprung and the desire to get more than our feet wet is strong. Marsha’s irises are azure as glacial ice. Her complexion is that of French vanilla. Her hair is like fine corn silk which lusters in the summer sun. Her hair giggles when she walks.
At St. Catherine Creek the water appears on fire...
#love
#beach
#water
#nature
#sensual
42 reads
2 Comments
SeaCat
Poem Published
17th Jun 2019 6:18pm
17th Jun 2019 6:18pm
Water Borne
Tears roll down my skin
are taken by the wind, lost
to cumulonimbus-curled clouds.
The rain calls to me
“Come! Drown your sorrow
wash your woe
let it be drunk by the sea.”
Autumnal mist, heavy with wood-smoke
nags a needling question
words, shuffling, blurring
failing to find focus
breathes on smouldering, heaped garden-fires.
When winter sweeps
laying my land with his heavy hand
I’ll roll a snow-girl and melt
her frozen gaze with my laden tears. ...
are taken by the wind, lost
to cumulonimbus-curled clouds.
The rain calls to me
“Come! Drown your sorrow
wash your woe
let it be drunk by the sea.”
Autumnal mist, heavy with wood-smoke
nags a needling question
words, shuffling, blurring
failing to find focus
breathes on smouldering, heaped garden-fires.
When winter sweeps
laying my land with his heavy hand
I’ll roll a snow-girl and melt
her frozen gaze with my laden tears. ...
#water
55 reads
4 Comments
DU Poetry : Water Poems
