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Zywa Apr 2023
The clouds chasing grey

and fierce, over the canal --

a flock of starlings.
"Het Bureau - De dood van Maarten Koning" ("The Office - The Death of Maarten Koning", 2000, Han Voskuil), page 111 (1988)

Collection "Not too bad [1974-1989]"
Andreas Simic Feb 2022
Passing Through

We are like two sailing ships
Passing through a narrow canal

Veteran captains standing  on our decks
We nod heads to each other

In acknowledgement as if to say
Congratulations on a job well done

The sails of our boats once taut now sag
A sign of the relics we have become

In our hey day
We were the top of our class

The envy of the fleet
Known for speed and cunningness

The scourge of the open seas
Few willing to take us on in a battle of the minds

Feared in competition
Avoided where possible

But alas like all things in life
There is decline and decay awaiting us

When you know the time has come
For navigating into the sunset for safe harbor

All that is left is to idle away time
Sitting on the sandy shore until...

Andreas Simic©
Twisted complex feelings
swings to grandfather’s hometown canal, 
where the heated late summer sunlight burned off 
traditional peace and a quiet Canal Zone. 

Returning scholar
his granddaughter’s blood at his side,
imagine now the men who once amassed
the limestone locks to straddle the canal,
an obsolete image from 
an eldritch past.
After nearly 18 years away from hometown, a spontaneous visit back to grandfather and childhood memories hometown.
o'er night's dark canal
the moon's bright crescent did sail
like a gondola
rowdy lee May 2020
as far as I am aware
you are not wonderful
of course you can have
other positions
you may be good
from another point of view

but from mine
I see just a girl
without eyes, without ears
without a face, without a head
as they are
too clear

there is just this behavior
too superficial
to know something deeper
to try to know something deeper
to want to try to know
something deeper

but still, something about you
there is
that is why
is this poem done

however, if you are able
there is a chance to see
how bad this poem really is
written in one minute
like you
history will swallow it
as nothing
as a useless, silly
Maybe there is a grammar/meaning mistakes in my poems as English is my second language. Glad if you'll warn me. Thank you.
Ayn Dec 2019
I’m currently looking at a canal.
The blue water is opaque,
Yet clear as blued silver.
My eyes reflect its iridescent glow,
Sending back it’s judgment upon my soul.

Beyond the silkily shining stream
Lies lines of trees,
Each a different eerie shade of blue.
They fade into the baby blue backdrop,
Looking almost like layers on a painting.

And further back I see an industrial feat;
A bridge, standing tall, strong, and stoic.
It’s steel beams uphold the innumerable
plethora of cars, which tread over its solid joints.

This time I know this happiness is real
Even though I haven’t lost it yet;
Even though I’m still in this sun-kissed morning.
I just decided to write about what I was looking at. Hope you get the picture in ur mind. Also it’s actually 1 in the afternoon, but it’s close enough.
Dominique Nov 2019
Give the knots that line my spine
The milky film that clots my eyes
The pride that grips my jaw
To be suspended

Hair blown out in rat-tail haloes
By soft ochre dispersions
To bob, a boat returned
Plunged into the myth of algae
Nymphs that bring dimension to the depths

To be an oil spill clearing canvas
A gliding watercolor rag or
Submerged irradiant water hag
Concealed by a cocoon

The overhang where beads of light
Exaggerate the urban dream
Freed from the stingy binds of gravity
The filthy nihilistic scene above

Just on display way down there
Beneath the ziplocked airless sky
For passers-by to glimpse the paradox
This wilful tragedy of mine

Through a waterlogged trachea
Umbilical cord to godliness stretched
Returned to me mangled and sore
Drowned in the canal of Little Venice.
"I had a dream I got everything I wanted"
saranade Nov 2017
Ten years miserably passed before..."At last!"
Four eyes dizzely cast into blue and brown,
and four, no, six legs on the ground.
Wistfully down a park laid sidewalk, we walked
to meet one another, blissfully.

We walked inside the dried canal, a river of the desert.
It hurts that we go there, no more, to flirt
with the dirt and our companion... infinity.
Is it you with me as I find kin company
in the molecules of divinity?

Repeatedly, I go searching the vicinity and nearby
For anything with similarity that I can call you by.
Any tree, light, shadow or star in the proximity
of where we met that belonged to you and me.
Or a feeling of solidarity that I cannot see.

Son, don't let me now survive ten years expeditiously.
Destructively alive, left with the intangiblity of life
that we left at that decision tree at 5:45.
Repetitiously I continue to apologize,
but apologies won't bring you back to life.
Seeking the sureness of his afterlife.
D Holden Jul 2017
Gliding through glistening ripples,
mirroring the milky blue from above.
Viewing the world side-on,
yet gracefully moving forwards.

Golden corn wave their hello.
The passing landscape rolls like revolving stage scenery,
painted by the finest.

She rests at her pilot’s will,
then moves forward once again;
gliding through glistening ripples.
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