"canoeing" poems - Hello Poetry

Third weekend in July I love canoeing out on Northwood Lake, early morning hours melting into the pines, as I head toward the island where the wild blueberries lie. Tiny morsels, abundant and packed with the taste of summer and beepollen and freshwater and snow. Minnows nibble my toes, each one a solid worm for the biting, as I slowly fill a one-gallon jug, berry by berry, to use for breakfast pancakes and Belgian waffles cooked golden from the waffle iron. Some of the ripest berries plop into the lake. I swipe them up before bass or sunfish see them; always leaving the green berries behind. Pausing to taste some, they split between my incisors; I marvel at the flavor while a loon’s haunted red eyes stare at nothing. Blueberries split like relationships occasionally do, sour at times, always leaving a taste on your palate. Families, young lovers picnicking on the beach lake, confused couples; they branch off, moonlight silhouetting their outlines; silent elegy softly blossoming downward as their paths skew. They won’t cross again. My jug filled, I oar back to the dock, ears filled with humming of birds, insects, boats; brimming with the bream from berries splitting apart, and the intense silence of blueberry picking in late July.

0

Feb 26, 2015

Feb 26, 2015 at 3:09 PM UTC

mike-jewett

Blueberry Picking

Third weekend in July I love canoeing out on Northwood Lake, early morning hours melting into the pines, as I head toward the island where the wild blueberries lie. Tiny morsels, abundant and packed with the taste of summer and beepollen and freshwater and snow. Minnows nibble my toes, each one a solid worm for the biting, as I slowly fill a one-gallon jug, berry by berry, to use for breakfast pancakes and Belgian waffles cooked golden from the waffle iron. Some of the ripest berries plop into the lake. I swipe them up before bass or sunfish see them; always leaving the green berries behind. Pausing to taste some, they split between my incisors; I marvel at the flavor while a loon’s haunted red eyes stare at nothing. Blueberries split like relationships occasionally do, sour at times, always leaving a taste on your palate. Families, young lovers picnicking on the beach lake, confused couples; they branch off, moonlight silhouetting their outlines; silent elegy softly blossoming downward as their paths skew. They won’t cross again. My jug filled, I oar back to the dock, ears filled with humming of birds, insects, boats; brimming with the bream from berries splitting apart, and the intense silence of blueberry picking in late July.

46

In Algonquin, before the dawn before they’re clouds, the fog rises tucked under the echoing loons above the fat smell of wet soil before the day becomes day before you are a person and the light of day breaks the green sky casts a hue incubating the lake until life becomes life until you become human

0

Aug 6, 2015

Aug 6, 2015 at 12:51 PM UTC

Alex-Meyer

Canoeing in Algonquin park

In Algonquin, before the dawn before they’re clouds, the fog rises tucked under the echoing loons above the fat smell of wet soil before the day becomes day before you are a person and the light of day breaks the green sky casts a hue incubating the lake until life becomes life until you become human

11

Whether it's winter and skiing, or it's spring site-seeing, Either summer and biking, or even late fall hiking; Whistler has it all. From snowshoeing to canoeing, even as far as golf to frolf, Whistler is the place to be, with so much for you to see. There's zip-lining to fine dining, or ice skating and fish baiting, including a tour of bears, you choose your story to share. Many come from far away, just to live the Whistler day, as we bring people together, while they make memories forever, because Whistler has it all.

0

Mar 22, 2015

Mar 22, 2015 at 3:05 PM UTC

jamie-lee-1

My Whistler

Whether it's winter and skiing, or it's spring site-seeing, Either summer and biking, or even late fall hiking; Whistler has it all. From snowshoeing to canoeing, even as far as golf to frolf, Whistler is the place to be, with so much for you to see. There's zip-lining to fine dining, or ice skating and fish baiting, including a tour of bears, you choose your story to share. Many come from far away, just to live the Whistler day, as we bring people together, while they make memories forever, because Whistler has it all.

18

the attention deficit hyperactivity disorder poem is a strange animal with lines monosyllabically short and then perilously freakishly faulknerically long but not to worry the trick is to ***** around with the readers' heads a bit let them wonder what's going on get them used to obnoxious departures sudden jolts of expression devious detours into obscenity, indecency these are the tourette's moments of a poet's creative life: a move to keep those with the attention span of an infant gnat awake alive responsive some may expect poetry to take them down safe bland routes: a snowfall enhanced by red robins perched on a rustic fence a lake with canoeing lovers cooing in a shimmering moment heartfelt elegies quaint quatrains hip haikus but can these images really keep you entranced? well, can they? it isn't like i didn't warn you or the horse you rode in on

0

Jul 15, 2015

Jul 15, 2015 at 12:21 PM UTC

vernon-waring

ADHD: The Poem

the attention deficit hyperactivity disorder poem is a strange animal with lines monosyllabically short and then perilously freakishly faulknerically long but not to worry the trick is to ***** around with the readers' heads a bit let them wonder what's going on get them used to obnoxious departures sudden jolts of expression devious detours into obscenity, indecency these are the tourette's moments of a poet's creative life: a move to keep those with the attention span of an infant gnat awake alive responsive some may expect poetry to take them down safe bland routes: a snowfall enhanced by red robins perched on a rustic fence a lake with canoeing lovers cooing in a shimmering moment heartfelt elegies quaint quatrains hip haikus but can these images really keep you entranced? well, can they? it isn't like i didn't warn you or the horse you rode in on

41

The best feeling iv'e ever got, cruising through the wet road's of Divine Dandeli, a touch of peppermint dew drops in my velvet cheeks, listening to 'paradise' by coldplay, a massage in the kali river by the gargling rafting waters, canoeing against the smooth surface forces, sure to give you a exquisite experience of love, and a course of pain in your shoulder, gives you a raft full of memories.

0

Jul 26, 2014

Jul 26, 2014 at 1:58 PM UTC

SharathRam

Divine Dandeli

The best feeling iv'e ever got, cruising through the wet road's of Divine Dandeli, a touch of peppermint dew drops in my velvet cheeks, listening to 'paradise' by coldplay, a massage in the kali river by the gargling rafting waters, canoeing against the smooth surface forces, sure to give you a exquisite experience of love, and a course of pain in your shoulder, gives you a raft full of memories.

9

Its better written than said, Yet they say am blindfolded by your love, Fooling myself without been bewitched, Who cares, when your blazing love, beautifys my heart from miles away, this 's not a subject of discussion, Now they say am subjecting myself to unnecessary distraction, Let them talk we say, Who cares what they see, When they are tired they will seat, When no one was here, It's u I could find, In u I confine, No need to confirm, When u speak, I toss and turn, that grinds my gears, No need to cough Before I confess, Your beautify's clouding my head of nonsense, They say it makes no sense, I need to be counseled, you have created a cell of love in my head, It needs to be casted, From the caging love that has be canoeing In my head, it's time it capsize, But who cares , When canopying your love , brings me joy, They keep staring , With there brutal faces , From different races, backstabbing claiming to be, back stopping the bleeding That has been fooling My blessings without no lesson, Its time to make it clear, Like I have said, Its better written than said, Am not blindfolded by your love , Nor obsessed by your touch, nether will I be addicted by your thought, I only see an angel when I look at you, admiring the beautiful creativity of nature, You are in this because you have colonized in my heart .

0

Jul 18, 2013

Jul 18, 2013 at 6:23 AM UTC

Thinklef

UNCHANGEABLE LOVE

Its better written than said, Yet they say am blindfolded by your love, Fooling myself without been bewitched, Who cares, when your blazing love, beautifys my heart from miles away, this 's not a subject of discussion, Now they say am subjecting myself to unnecessary distraction, Let them talk we say, Who cares what they see, When they are tired they will seat, When no one was here, It's u I could find, In u I confine, No need to confirm, When u speak, I toss and turn, that grinds my gears, No need to cough Before I confess, Your beautify's clouding my head of nonsense, They say it makes no sense, I need to be counseled, you have created a cell of love in my head, It needs to be casted, From the caging love that has be canoeing In my head, it's time it capsize, But who cares , When canopying your love , brings me joy, They keep staring , With there brutal faces , From different races, backstabbing claiming to be, back stopping the bleeding That has been fooling My blessings without no lesson, Its time to make it clear, Like I have said, Its better written than said, Am not blindfolded by your love , Nor obsessed by your touch, nether will I be addicted by your thought, I only see an angel when I look at you, admiring the beautiful creativity of nature, You are in this because you have colonized in my heart .

12

Canoeing written March 7th, 2021 I have spent the last few days canoeing the Mackenzie River making the journey in a book with maps and words. As I read it takes me back to canoeing in my youth the Boundary Waters Canoe Area Wilderness along the northern border of Minnesota. I can feel the paddle pulling through the water and hear the loons crying at night. The land around me almost untouched since Huron, Chippewa, Cree Dakota and Ojibwa eyes were the only ones that had ever seen it. Now I travel in thought and memory the clear cold waters of the lakes the portages through forested hills taking me from one gem of a lake and a memory to the next.

0

Mar 7, 2021

Mar 7, 2021 at 7:38 PM UTC

clmathew

Canoeing

Canoeing written March 7th, 2021 I have spent the last few days canoeing the Mackenzie River making the journey in a book with maps and words. As I read it takes me back to canoeing in my youth the Boundary Waters Canoe Area Wilderness along the northern border of Minnesota. I can feel the paddle pulling through the water and hear the loons crying at night. The land around me almost untouched since Huron, Chippewa, Cree Dakota and Ojibwa eyes were the only ones that had ever seen it. Now I travel in thought and memory the clear cold waters of the lakes the portages through forested hills taking me from one gem of a lake and a memory to the next.

26

My Dad built a whoopee room in the basement of our house, that's what we called it back in the fifties, basically it was a free barroom; he worked tirelessly, tiled the floor, knotty-pined the walls, built a Formica-topped bar, with foot rail, and a pool table center stage. At one end, he pasted and framed with the utmost care, a life-like mural, a bucolic scene of mountains, pines trees, some guy canoeing across a deep blue lake, right underneath an eight foot, padded bench to sit, toss a beer, gab Red Sox, Pats, Bruins, Celts. The guy could make anything, fix anything in his neat as a pin workshop, totally in control, competent, a rack of tools, his innate ability to figure out, you name it, he’d fix it, in hands-on kingdom this man did it right, measured twice, cut once. In the Mr. Fix-it realm my father welcomed me, drew me in, shared his man in the know ways, I fetched his tools a quick study daughter, I observed knew ahead of time, like an operating room nurse ready to assist the famous surgeon at his work. But then without prior notice he’d grow silent, retreat, drink copious whiskey shots, get mean, angry, tried to outrun the never good enough farm boy he once was, this love starved kid would engulf my honest, hardworking, overly sensitive, insecure father, then we all suffered his childhood trauma all over again.

0

Oct 30, 2012

Oct 30, 2012 at 11:18 PM UTC

p-e-kaplan

Too Soon Oldt, Too Late Schmart

My Dad built a whoopee room in the basement of our house, that's what we called it back in the fifties, basically it was a free barroom; he worked tirelessly, tiled the floor, knotty-pined the walls, built a Formica-topped bar, with foot rail, and a pool table center stage. At one end, he pasted and framed with the utmost care, a life-like mural, a bucolic scene of mountains, pines trees, some guy canoeing across a deep blue lake, right underneath an eight foot, padded bench to sit, toss a beer, gab Red Sox, Pats, Bruins, Celts. The guy could make anything, fix anything in his neat as a pin workshop, totally in control, competent, a rack of tools, his innate ability to figure out, you name it, he’d fix it, in hands-on kingdom this man did it right, measured twice, cut once. In the Mr. Fix-it realm my father welcomed me, drew me in, shared his man in the know ways, I fetched his tools a quick study daughter, I observed knew ahead of time, like an operating room nurse ready to assist the famous surgeon at his work. But then without prior notice he’d grow silent, retreat, drink copious whiskey shots, get mean, angry, tried to outrun the never good enough farm boy he once was, this love starved kid would engulf my honest, hardworking, overly sensitive, insecure father, then we all suffered his childhood trauma all over again.

5

I went canoeing today. I got lost in the weaving ways of the riverbanks. It reminded me a lot of you. I got pulled in the current much like the way I got pulled into your eyes.

0

Aug 4, 2013

Aug 4, 2013 at 8:30 PM UTC

liltreebaby

Riverbanks

I went canoeing today. I got lost in the weaving ways of the riverbanks. It reminded me a lot of you. I got pulled in the current much like the way I got pulled into your eyes.

5

I paddle as he talks Of life, and the veil just behind it The water plops as he plods, On about the things humans never deserved Saying we have no true structure, style, or word All is annihilated by the Absurd Yet with his nugget of knowledge in mine I paddle on

0

Nov 4, 2018

Nov 4, 2018 at 4:40 PM UTC

Mavsage

Canoeing with Camus

I paddle as he talks Of life, and the veil just behind it The water plops as he plods, On about the things humans never deserved Saying we have no true structure, style, or word All is annihilated by the Absurd Yet with his nugget of knowledge in mine I paddle on

8

*Swaying Pin Oaks wave to me from my window perch , a veritable sea of gold and green in contrast to this dark living room I remember these majestic Water Oaks as seedlings , held upright by kite string and wooden stakes Cedar trees standing o'er twenty feet tall , Wild Plum trees congregating for a quarter of a mile Dirt roads at each intersection , a lonely state highway for riding bicycles and collecting empty pop bottles Watching afternoon Whitetail Does from July cornfields , carving walking sticks from Hickory , climbing Crabapple trees for midday snacks , canoeing trips on the Indian Creeks Where do memories find rest as the body quietly withers away*

0

May 4, 2016

May 4, 2016 at 12:48 PM UTC

randolph-l-wilson

Memory and wonder ...

*Swaying Pin Oaks wave to me from my window perch , a veritable sea of gold and green in contrast to this dark living room I remember these majestic Water Oaks as seedlings , held upright by kite string and wooden stakes Cedar trees standing o'er twenty feet tall , Wild Plum trees congregating for a quarter of a mile Dirt roads at each intersection , a lonely state highway for riding bicycles and collecting empty pop bottles Watching afternoon Whitetail Does from July cornfields , carving walking sticks from Hickory , climbing Crabapple trees for midday snacks , canoeing trips on the Indian Creeks Where do memories find rest as the body quietly withers away*

15

brian allan’s big race today at lake ginninderra there was a bike canoe and foot race from john knight park to the steps of the belconnen mall on benjamin way and brian allan was competing along with other people who live around belconnen, and the opening song to start the race was advance australia fair, so as soon as the anthem was finished everyone got on their bikes and started heading to the dock where the canoes are, brian allan got onto a fabulous start really pumping iron in his legs riding down the cycle path listening to i want you back i gotta get b through to you, i want you back, and brian just hit the lead about 2 km away from the canoes and bria sped right down and had an unbeatable lead and when brian allan reached the canoes, he had a great lead, and it wouldn’t have mattered how bad he did in his canoe, but as brian got started, he started to hear the other bike riders coming toward him, so he started canoeing and headed right for the other side, but brian’s arms weren’t strong enough and when brian made it to the other end, he was 4th in line and had to make some ground but the canoe was slow and brian was worried that the next pack would catch up to him but brian got out and started running toward the steps of the mall, and because brian likes christmas, as he entered they played christmas where the gum trees blow, there is no frost and no snow christmas in australia’s hot, cold and frosty is what it’s not, and brian was running past the crowd brian, brian brian, the crowd yelled but he wasn’t going to catch the leading 3, but brian stuck at 4th place and brian sprinted down the road for the final prize point, and when brian allan made it to the steps yeah he won $145, which meant, even if he los to 3 races, he still won money for his race and brian went to the water booth to hydrate and started joking around with the other prize winners and brian sang, i am the champion, you see, you see i travelled from start to finish, oh yeseree i am the champion, i am the champion, i only came 4th but i won $145 yeah i am the champion of the world and then as the other racers were coming in, the caller said, we have got our top 4 money winners worked out, so we will start the presentations and brian allan came 4th, yeah and he was ****** happy about that, like that nobody counts except for brian and when brian was gven the $145, he cheered so loudly, yippee i ay the poem read brian is the best person better than the rest of them he is better than everyone there i know he only came 4th, but that is pretty good don’t ya think brian is the best person brian allan is the best and when the last place came running in, they started to clear up for next year saying this was a great race

0

Feb 4, 2016

Feb 4, 2016 at 6:02 PM UTC

johnny-georgy-brown

the dream i had where i won $145 in a race where i came 4th

brian allan’s big race today at lake ginninderra there was a bike canoe and foot race from john knight park to the steps of the belconnen mall on benjamin way and brian allan was competing along with other people who live around belconnen, and the opening song to start the race was advance australia fair, so as soon as the anthem was finished everyone got on their bikes and started heading to the dock where the canoes are, brian allan got onto a fabulous start really pumping iron in his legs riding down the cycle path listening to i want you back i gotta get b through to you, i want you back, and brian just hit the lead about 2 km away from the canoes and bria sped right down and had an unbeatable lead and when brian allan reached the canoes, he had a great lead, and it wouldn’t have mattered how bad he did in his canoe, but as brian got started, he started to hear the other bike riders coming toward him, so he started canoeing and headed right for the other side, but brian’s arms weren’t strong enough and when brian made it to the other end, he was 4th in line and had to make some ground but the canoe was slow and brian was worried that the next pack would catch up to him but brian got out and started running toward the steps of the mall, and because brian likes christmas, as he entered they played christmas where the gum trees blow, there is no frost and no snow christmas in australia’s hot, cold and frosty is what it’s not, and brian was running past the crowd brian, brian brian, the crowd yelled but he wasn’t going to catch the leading 3, but brian stuck at 4th place and brian sprinted down the road for the final prize point, and when brian allan made it to the steps yeah he won $145, which meant, even if he los to 3 races, he still won money for his race and brian went to the water booth to hydrate and started joking around with the other prize winners and brian sang, i am the champion, you see, you see i travelled from start to finish, oh yeseree i am the champion, i am the champion, i only came 4th but i won $145 yeah i am the champion of the world and then as the other racers were coming in, the caller said, we have got our top 4 money winners worked out, so we will start the presentations and brian allan came 4th, yeah and he was ****** happy about that, like that nobody counts except for brian and when brian was gven the $145, he cheered so loudly, yippee i ay the poem read brian is the best person better than the rest of them he is better than everyone there i know he only came 4th, but that is pretty good don’t ya think brian is the best person brian allan is the best and when the last place came running in, they started to clear up for next year saying this was a great race

34

What, Wednesday? no way, surely we had one last week. I'm going to complain not sure who to but that's what I'm going to do. Actually I'm already on the jubilee five fifteen and I've never seen such a motley crew except on ' Captain Pugwash' and they were just cartoon characters. It's cold because it's nothing without a mention of the weather. West Ham like boiled ham but not as tasty. And it's her again woman with the candy floss hair I'm wondering how it stays in place she looks as if she doesn't care. Canning Town a bit uppity needs a dressing down but the vinyl man gets on records under his arm I want to say, your day has gone but I don't. North Greenwich, not the American village but close enough. Lots more get on, the tube moves on I stay seated. Canary Wharf, do canaries tweet? I'll find out on Twitter later. Canada water not quite Canada but the water is nearly there. People off, maybe going canoeing or going to work I presume which leaves me room to stretch my legs. I'd have to stretch my imagination to imagine the next station, yes it's, Bermondsey a wait and see place south of the river. Onwards with John's words. Next bridge is London Bridge, we're getting ready to cross over, no! not the great divide just the Thames Southwark? never heard of it although we stop for a bit to let people off. Waterloo under the clock at two at three at four the policeman says, what are you waiting for? I move along. Westminster, a den of thieves a lot of chaos I'm still here. Green park greener now we've had rain and the next stop is Bond Street I'm nearly at work, what, again?

0

Apr 3, 2019

Apr 3, 2019 at 1:26 AM UTC

john-edward-smallshaw

My morning stroll

What, Wednesday? no way, surely we had one last week. I'm going to complain not sure who to but that's what I'm going to do. Actually I'm already on the jubilee five fifteen and I've never seen such a motley crew except on ' Captain Pugwash' and they were just cartoon characters. It's cold because it's nothing without a mention of the weather. West Ham like boiled ham but not as tasty. And it's her again woman with the candy floss hair I'm wondering how it stays in place she looks as if she doesn't care. Canning Town a bit uppity needs a dressing down but the vinyl man gets on records under his arm I want to say, your day has gone but I don't. North Greenwich, not the American village but close enough. Lots more get on, the tube moves on I stay seated. Canary Wharf, do canaries tweet? I'll find out on Twitter later. Canada water not quite Canada but the water is nearly there. People off, maybe going canoeing or going to work I presume which leaves me room to stretch my legs. I'd have to stretch my imagination to imagine the next station, yes it's, Bermondsey a wait and see place south of the river. Onwards with John's words. Next bridge is London Bridge, we're getting ready to cross over, no! not the great divide just the Thames Southwark? never heard of it although we stop for a bit to let people off. Waterloo under the clock at two at three at four the policeman says, what are you waiting for? I move along. Westminster, a den of thieves a lot of chaos I'm still here. Green park greener now we've had rain and the next stop is Bond Street I'm nearly at work, what, again?

103