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There Is Something Inside My Mouth (2)
there is something singing inside my mouth
but i keep my mouth closed
i decide when shall the opening be
when shall i hear this little thing sing again
in the open
for now i have closed whatever is it that opens
that sings
it is time to mourn
to be silent
to die
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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85
i wish i have a mouth that knows how to speak my love
i wish i have this kind of mouth that knows to speak
about my love
one that opens so easily and dashes with words like
you know i love you, tell me, do you love me too?
a candid mouth, like a shrew who gambles with words and
will not mind losing
a mouth who kisses your mouth without
shame and if shamed because you slap it
does not bother at all,
one who says, why hide love, why not pour love like a
strong wine to a chalice and let it warm
the glass and let the glass
be nothing but a glass
one that does not mind at all, one that loves and if not loved in
return takes the other possibilities
without regrets
or pain,
the mouth that i have is closed and will not open
afraid
i have kept the words
i love you only for you
like a worm inside my tongue,
wriggling
turning into a little butterfly
that never had the chance to see what is outside
and feel the freedom of air,
yesterday
it died and i keep it for the whole night
now, i spit it out
and my mouth closed again
eating only silence
while you just watch there
asking me
and i said there is nothing to worry
nothing at all
i just don't feel anything and there is nothing
worth saying, i look at you as you go, i hold only to your shadow
and you will never never never know,
this
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Wish I Have A Mouth That Knows How To Speak My Love
i wish i have this kind of mouth that knows to speak
about my love
one that opens so easily and dashes with words like
you know i love you, tell me, do you love me too?
a candid mouth, like a shrew who gambles with words and
will not mind losing
a mouth who kisses your mouth without
shame and if shamed because you slap it
does not bother at all,
one who says, why hide love, why not pour love like a
strong wine to a chalice and let it warm
the glass and let the glass
be nothing but a glass
one that does not mind at all, one that loves and if not loved in
return takes the other possibilities
without regrets
or pain,
the mouth that i have is closed and will not open
afraid
i have kept the words
i love you only for you
like a worm inside my tongue,
wriggling
turning into a little butterfly
that never had the chance to see what is outside
and feel the freedom of air,
yesterday
it died and i keep it for the whole night
now, i spit it out
and my mouth closed again
eating only silence
while you just watch there
asking me
and i said there is nothing to worry
nothing at all
i just don't feel anything and there is nothing
worth saying, i look at you as you go, i hold only to your shadow
and you will never never never know,
this
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Overbird
O = Once upon the midnight enter hurry
V = Verily the hurry worry enter scurry
E = Eerily or early bird of enter Poe
R = Raven is only one huge enter Crow
B = Better to see them from the
distance of the hour glasses with
thick lenses enter Tommy use your eye
I = Intense discussion rules get broken
enter time to turn the worm over
enter into the night
R = Roman Judges rule nothing enter Rome
not one stone standing of the Jewish enter
temple now
D = Describe the Vulture in the Temple its
got wings of darkness its got red eye
with long black enter nose this time
this poem enter perfect prose
poem by Charles Hice
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Every Aspect Of It!
Just because you do not see me driving,
Do not assume I am not licensed to drive.
Or that I do not 'think'...
Because I do not look the part.
You don't see half the things I do and have done.
Nor are you on my agenda.
And folks who focus their sights on others...
Are the first who find these times we live,
Difficult to adjust.
Even though they feel they 'must'...
Demand understanding,
Without participating in the development of it.
You know the kind...?
The ears closed, mouth open types!
With claims they don't know what is going on!
And rush they do to prevent,
The circumstances of truth.
Coming to bombard and overwhelm.
With the consequences of their ignorance.
You know the kind...?
The ears closed, mouth open types!
Yet conflict they are quick to define...
Instead of using their minds to take time,
Comprehending remedies.
To set aside a strategy...
To stop the havoc that has begun,
Happening in their own lives.
You know the kind...?
The ears closed, mouth open types!
And this kind of mindset today,
Is reflected on a massive scale.
People into minding the business of others...
Have found their business in shambles.
Every aspect of it!
With shock and disbelief,
As a return for their 'investment'!
You know the kind...?
The ears closed, mouth open types!
The ones who rush to cover their butts,
With implusive mindless decisions!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Closed Door
sometimes we want to enter
a door
a closed door that does not open
no matter how hard we
knock
we try being courteous and gentle
and so patient
eating every waiting time
like we are the most foolish of all fools
knocking a closed door
seducing it more often with our
pleadings
begging and even compromising
for a dance
to convince the owner of the door to
open it
but no one hears, no one cares to listen
to our pleadings,
no one likes the dance of compromises
the door is still closed
and then the last crooked thing happens
we take the axe
and break the door which is closed
forcing it open
only to find that all the people there are dead
there is nothing inside
but mystery and
grief
an unsolved crime, no more
no less.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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I Am Not Yours....
my face has misled you
my eyes specially are not the best tour guides
of this journey
it is your journey still
that worries me
no end
you wish to enter the door of my mind
you cannot
it is closed with the best locks i have
imagined
there is no window to my soul
my eyes are not what they call them to be
do not do anything
they can only be useless attempts
they can even be choking
my being
you may kill me in an instant
with the very first question in your mouth
let go
do not hold anything in your hand
stay beside me
rest your head upon my shoulder
as we watch the setting of the
sun
disregard the idea
relish the feeling
i come and i go
any moment
from now and then
because
i am not yours.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Yogi
it is when you enter
that door of silence that the sun
begins to
believe
in your chosen place
of dignity
the sun never talks
the mouth must surrender
to the greater value of its
suicide
you settle upon a floor
clasp your hands
focus on the the garden
through the
glass window in front of you
to enter the gates of perfection
you must
hand your eyes gracefully
into the depths of
the wisdom of
silence
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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There is an error
You cannot enter
There is no access
There is a problem
You get disconnected
No problem
I’ll change my face
I’ll take some fingers
From my hands
I’ll take the eyeballs
And take yours
I will rearrange my
Hair and nose and mouth
And realign my teeth
I’ll get your thumb marks
And gee!
I look like you in almost
Everything and
Gee!
I now appear like I am thinking
Like you
Now I will enter now I will get access
There will be no problem
I look like you and think like you
Welcome progress welcome peace
Welcome to uniformity welcome to loss of identity
Welcome to your definition of democracy.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Our Love
sweet love enters the mouth
from your mouth
sweet love from the sweat
of your body
sweet love from the fluids
of your groans
to the stiffness of my
pleasures
love hovers in the eyes
closed eyes in ecstasy
that is what is truth
that is it all about
the time for growing old
and death comes
i take everything every fluid in my mouth
and then i look at you
with all the wasted years that we share
i hear you speaking through a sigh.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sign On The Door
Wendys sittin next to me shes trying hard to drink it away and I feel the rumble of the subway beneath the stage and her eyes are screaming and her lips are pursed and this aint he
St heartache but it feels like, it feels like the worst and she says can someone tell me how this can happen and I guess that God only knows my heart used to be the sweet shop of lov
Ut now the sign on the door it says sorry were closed and I hear myself tell her some old words I know they wont help and then I feel guilty cause I closed some sweet shops myself
We all talk about timing and lifestyles and such but to a heart thats been shattered those words dont mean that much and all of our pining it just goes to show dont you enter a sh
With the sign on the door saying sorry were closed and shes been through all the pain that one can endure and her new man thinks she loves him but he cant be sure and his heart pi
R>
For wendy she says thats how it goes how am I supposed to know he cant read the sign saying sorry were closed yeah were closed and she says can someone tell me how this can ha
and I guess that God only knows my heart used to be the sweet shop of love but theres a sign on the door theres a sign on the door theres a sign on the door theres a sign on th
R one more sign
song performed by by Edwin McCain
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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L8,2212
There is a door which you open
you enter, and then it closes you
behind you
forever,
there is no force here,
but only volition,
you enter it
with all the warnings,
that the
possibility that it will close forever
has been told to you
over and over
again,
somehow, you do not make it a problem
you like a closed door, and you hate it
when it opens,
you love it when it is closed forever,
the room is nice
there is a certain loveliness
in there,
it has shiny floors,
it has a bright ceiling,
the lights are lovely,
like stars
in an open dark sky
the air is fresh,
the walls are comfortable
who wants to take an exit?
no one.not you.
when the door knows this, it will open
forever,
it decides to open for you
and it will tell you to go out and be
an outsider again and
be gone
for good,
you insist that you own this room now,
that a closed door is not a serious matter
and there is no way that you have to
go out
or be ousted,
the door has a stair with strong hands
and it will drag you out
it will pull your hair and drag your body
like hell
the door has learned its lesson
when the room is not a prison to someone else
there is no use keeping him there forever
for in truth the reason of the door's
existence
is to make you feel the prison and to suffer
and you know your lesson too well
there is no prison to a mind that is an open window
there is no suffering
to a lover of suffering
you see, it takes a little reverse psychology
for closed doors to open
for men to know that suffering is not suffering
at all
when one loves is tripping
when one thinks
otherwise
when one loves whatever happens
when one accepts
the one that is there and not look for something
that is always missing
why go for the unreachable?
why suffer for long?
life is life, and death is death
you are here, grab this here.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Violate
Enter now the fiendish one
Twisted little man
Vile wretch disgusting mess
Perverted little man
Born of hell and in disease
Hate festers in his veins
Demonic clown and shapeshifter
Little man gone insane
Enter now
Enter now
And violate
AI'll beat you with your spinal cord
Split your skull in two
I'll feast on your intestines
There's nothing I can't do
I'll rip your heart out of your chest
Watch it beat as you cry
I revel in your agony
I violate and make you die
Enter now
Enter now
And violate
song performed by by Iced Earth
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Even if we eat, earth will eventually enter our mouth.
Love Child
You bore me, you bore me you teach me, you taught me, you see me, you want me, you buy me, then torch me, you enter and walk me the thing that came out of my mouth sweet mouth when I leave this
Old house I should have a good day should I have a bad should I get something out see what Ive had? can I stay a young man or grow old and fat dont need a microphone to say I know bout this and
I dont need a microphone to know where its at well I got a duster but I dont have a flat how should we cook this? should we let it boil? lets make a love child we both can spoil give it a dee
Use the kindest oil we have to find some good land get the good soil how should we cook this?
Should we let it burn? we both need a wise up we both need to learn the things that come out of your mouth sweet mouth when I leave this safe old house should it be a good thing or should it be
Heres something dying baby but I got to go out your need on the inside where a man like that can shout so if you thinks thats evil shake it up and about get to the tip top take a tall look out
S a leader of people doesnt know what its about just want s to be a big man has the urge to whip it out well I sold it you bought it you spread it you caught it you dont have to have a big dic
T makes you feel proud I got to find a high point get it out for the crowd you bought me, you bore me you tease me, you taught me you feed me, you fought me you see me then you want me who you b
Me, then touch me you enter and walk me should I have a good day or is it bad should I get some of the things out see what Ive had theres something dying baby but I gotta get out
song performed by by Happy Mondays
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Tumbleweed will not enter into the mouth of the lying camel.
We enter in (Rondelet)
We enter in
a place that is unknown to us
we enter in
a big world that is full of sin
where we learn to love and to trust,
sometimes pleasure and some disgust
we enter in.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Close Your Mouth!
close your mouth!
if a man is hungry,
feed him!
if a man is sick,
give him medical care.
if a man is homeless,
take him in.
if your leaders demand war,
vote them out,
or overthrow them.
if your system is unjust,
tear it down and start over.
if any other person,
regardless of color, politics,
religion, or sexual orientation,
comes to you...
respect them!
if they come to in in need,
help them.
if they are oppressed,
free them!
mouth still closed?
then your path is true!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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