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By IronQuill I never made a prohibition speech, Nor eulogized thee as a proper beverage; But there is one conclusion which I reach: That there are spheres in which thou hast the leverage. And though I don't expect to use thee freely, I'll speak no more of thee with contumely. Although for food thou art not well designed, More due, perhaps, to thy extreme fluidity; And though thou dost at times drown human kind, And wipe out towns with unforeseen rapidity; And though thou lackest that fine beady flavor Which if thou hadst would give thee much more favor: Still, thou dost make the wheat and corn crops grow, While then the people seem content with amity, And no old played-out politicians go Around and sound the hew-gag of calamity: And all the people seem to have some reason; And all the crops somehow arrive in season. I've almost made my mind up that I'll try And get accustomed to thy potability; Since thou as rain descending from the sky Dost give us such political tranquility, For every time thou comest as a soaker Thou endest all there is of some old croaker.? To get my 8 glasses a day I make the resolution again to drink as much water as it takes for the water to gain heat. This was easier to do in the city. Here it's easy to float in my shoes. And still it runs cold and sulphuric. To be useful and busy I make a resolution to wash as many dishes as it takes for someone to find me crying, senseless, or for me to find my senses. You find me first. And we wait together for my senses to return to balance. By Daniela Gioseffi We are all one human creature bound by one earth under one sun -- moon mutant nations where all children's ears hear "Songs of Innocence," as corporational apes of toxic wastes breathe alchemic greed bloated powers bigger than all our tiny flesh made lives, or little seeds of giant Sequoia trees, most ancient living things of earth, older than king's tombs, true cathedrals of the blue Pacific as she rocks, swirling melodies with the Atlantic's green currents, currencies...rain songs, sounds swell wells, lakes, faucets, brooks' runes, oceans' tunes, mystic drafts of summer wetness, cool drink seeping into thirst, Earth nearly all water of which we are made one human bound by one wet planet under one maddening moon, under one arrogant sun, under one pale watery moon, under one bright thirsty sun. From: "Word Wounds and Water Flowers" the title poem of my collection of poems, WORD WOUNDS and WATER FLOWERS, VIA Folios @ Purdue University: IN. 1995. Copyright (c) 2001, Daniela Gioseffi. All rights reserved. Used by Permission of the author. http://www.gioseffi.com or http://www.PoetsUSA.com The CloudBy Percy Bysshe ShelleyI am the daughter of Earth and Water And the nursling of the Sky I pass through the pores of the ocean and shores I change but I cannot die, For after the rain with never a stain The pavilion of Heaven is bare, And the winds and sunbeams with their convex gleams Build up the blue dome of air, I silently laugh at my own cenotaph, And out of the caverns of rain, Like a child from the womb, like a ghost from the tomb, I arise and unbuild it again. Tokyo BayAbove - A faint wisp of sky with sleepy petrochemical clouds Below - A mash of cool salt water peppered with styrofoam cups and beer cans To my right - Rows of pines and concrete breakers the geometry of conformity To my left - Motorists puffing on cigarettes as their engines chant petrol sutras In this place where fisheries have turned into landfills steel mills and sludge drills HopeTM rises from the butt Kawasaki City, Japan, 1994. Spring WaterHow like the world to mingle its impurities with rivulets and streams. With dews, mists and rivers. With everything pure. As the world mingles, eventually, in all great affection like the sediment of toil. Drifting down through the soil, water percolates, reduces to its essence. Clings to the traces of rare earths and minerals like precious gems. In limestone caverns it drips, beating out a rhythm of its own. Listening, the dripping is like my pulse which matches yours. In hollow spaces we accumulate treasures we cannot measure. In a dreaded dark of nightmare bats and dream salamanders we grow shapes too delicate for light. But from our slow accretion pure water churns and finds hidden channels. Roils up as a blue spring, as the unfathomable deep within the land. The MysteryI am the wind which breathes upon the sea, I am the wave of the ocean, I am the murmur of the billows, I am the ox of the seven combats, I am the vulture upon the rocks, I am a beam of the sun, I am the fairest of plants, I am a wild boar in valor, I am a salmon in the water, I am a lake in the plain, I am a word of science, I am the point of the lance of battle, I am the God who created in the head the fire. Who is it who throws light into the meeting on the mountain? Who announces the ages of the moon? Who teaches the place where couches the sun? (If not I) RecycledThe glass of water you’re about to drink Deserves a second thought, I think For Avogadro, oceans and those you follow Are all involved in every swallow. The molecules of water in a single glass In number, at least five times, outclass The glasses of water in stream and sea, Or wherever else that water can be. The water in you is between and betwixt, And having traversed is thoroughly mixed, So someone quenching a future thirst Could easily drink what you drank first! The water you are about to taste No doubt represents a bit of waste From prehistoric beast and bird- A notion you may find absurd. The fountain spraying in the park Could well spout bits of Joan of Arc, Or Adam, Eve, and all their kin; You’d be surprised where your drink has been! Just think! The water you cannot retain Will some day hence return as rain, Or be held as the purest dew. Though long ago it passed through you! Unknown TitleThe lapse of time and rivers is the same Both spend their journey with a restless stream The silent pace with which they steal away No wealth can bribe, no prayers persuade to stay. Alike irrevocable both when past And a wide ocean swallows both at last. Though each resemble each in every part, A difference at length strikes the musing heart; Streams never flow in vain:where streams abound, How laughs the land with various plenty crowned! But time, that should enrich the nobler mind Neglected, leaves the weary waste behind. WaterIf I were called in To construct a religion I should make use of water. Going to church Would entail a fording To dry, different clothes; My litany would employ Images of sousing, A furious devout drench, And I should raise in the east A glass of water Where any-angled light Would congregate endlessly. Water(Copyright - The River Pirate Guide Service ) In ancient times when the earth was young When streams & rivers had a chance to run Swift & free to the raging sea, as the water caught the sun It flowed so smooth to the mountain fields As it served as a home for the mallards & teils Over the falls the water did crash And its great pools was the home of the bass Always in beauty it flowed to the sea Always in beauty & always so free But now it is damned & polluted by man As it makes its way to the sea & the sand When I see what we've done, I shed a tear And when I think, I start to fear For without water, where would we be Without water, there would be no you or me So think of this poem when you visit a lake, river, or stream And please, oh please, make it your dream to keep it clean Environmental EducationSave our trees, Save Our Waters These we leave our sons and daughters. Teach them well, from the heart. The laws of nature, We are part. Nature will teach us. If we are willing, if we care Lessons for living, Our survival to prepare. We must work hard, while there is time, to find the answers in nature's design. Water is FreeWherever you find it, water is free, Deep in a well or out of the sea, Get all you want wherever you go. Read the simple directions below. Put a barrel under the spout, Collect the rain the clouds give out. While it's falling, don't be placid; Some of those drops are full of acid. With a bucket you can bring All you want from pond or spring. But watch for wiggler or bacillus; Some of those bugs are sure to kill us. Put muddy water in a kettle, Leave it for the mud to settle. But that won't get rid of everything, Better add a shot of chlorine. Build a dam across a creek And do it well so it won't leak. Then lay a pipe, the cost ain't hay. Be sure to get a right of way. Dig a hole both deep and round; That's where lots of water's found. Pumps are needed, so are tanks - You pay for them with more than thanks. Your water works adds this last line: Delivery is where we shine. We can't sell water because it's free; We sell pressure and purity. The Taste of Cloudstoday the clouds danced close against fields too young to reap. so close it seemed that with just one extra-ordinary leap you could touch them with your fingers as they sailed serenely by; you could taste them with your tongue stuck out and lick them from the sky! oh, I have hurdled heaven’s vault; with joy I’ve raced the wind in naive dreams; too young to reap; where everyone ascends! yet lately, though I’m older and I stoop beneath the sun, I keep waking in the night, the taste of clouds upon my tongue!
From "Rivers of Canada"
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