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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=488316" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Gifts Of Silences...</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">here we are again pinning needles<br>in our epidermal existences<br>trying to pierce every flesh<br>carefully noting every bursting of pus<br>and blood<br>mapping out the cartilages and bones<br>of our sorrows</div><div style="margin:10px 0">two years more and perhaps another<br>twenty years of<br>existence<br>in order to understand the meaning of life</div><div style="margin:10px 0">a life that lies there naked<br>so tempting and scented by the thousand jasmines<br>and saffrons<br>on spiced blankets<br>rosemary and lemon grass<br>and basil in every seams<br>of the pillows</div><div style="margin:10px 0">the hands of time keep gripping<br>what ought to be mine (or even hours) <br>it does not know how to give<br>what we want to sip and savor<br>and caress</div><div style="margin:10px 0">the eyes of the storms stare at us with<br>anger ready to strike us with its fits<br>and fists</div><div style="margin:10px 0">this pilgrimage tiptoes on slow feet<br>because we are all tired figuring out what is real<br>oasis from the<br>mirage of the heat of the desert beyond us</div><div style="margin:10px 0">we like to see the white seagulls feasting on a school<br>of fish<br>at the coastal collateral of our side trips</div><div style="margin:10px 0">a little drink from the hands of the vestal virgins<br>some kisses from the dewy lips of dawn<br>a warm morning's hug, and nights non stop<br>fleshy circus</div><div style="margin:10px 0">there are many things more to do<br>more events to attend too and many other letters<br>to compose</div><div style="margin:10px 0">by then night has come with the gifts of silence<br>and then i say, ' i do, i will keep on doing what is there to make<br>the best of yet to come'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">keep listening Beethoven, keep dancing Lady Dianne<br>we are here watching.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Ric+S.+Bastasa">Ric S. Bastasa</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=488316" data-title="Gifts Of Silences... de Ric S. Bastasa" data-description="here we are again pinning needles
in our epidermal existences
trying to pierce every flesh
carefully noting every bursting of pus
and blood
mapping out the cartilages and bones
of our sorrows

two years more and perhaps another
twenty years of
exi..."></div>
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