If a stone was thrown at you, throw back some bread in return.
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A World View From The Wounded And The Oppressed
i have a stone
in my hand
i do not have to polish it
since i have to throw it against the world
The world is a big face
The stone is thrown straight to its pair of eyes
That is why it is blind
it is deaf
and i do not have to throw another stone
to perfect
its indifference
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Temporary Poem Of My Time
Hebrew writing and Arabic writing go from east to west,
Latin writing, from west to east.
Languages are like cats:
You must not stroke their hair the wrong way.
The clouds come from the sea, the hot wind from the desert,
The trees bend in the wind,
And stones fly from all four winds,
Into all four winds. They throw stones,
Throw this land, one at the other,
But the land always falls back to the land.
They throw the land, want to get rid of it.
Its stones, its soil, but you can't get rid of it.
They throw stones, throw stones at me
In 1936, 1938, 1948, 1988,
Semites throw at Semites and anti-Semites at anti-Semites,
Evil men throw and just men throw,
Sinners throw and tempters throw,
Geologists throw and theologists throw,
Archaelogists throw and archhooligans throw,
Kidneys throw stones and gall bladders throw,
Head stones and forehead stones and the heart of a stone,
Stones shaped like a screaming mouth
And stones fitting your eyes
Like a pair of glasses,
The past throws stones at the future,
And all of them fall on the present.
Weeping stones and laughing gravel stones,
Even God in the Bible threw stones,
Even the Urim and Tumim were thrown
And got stuck in the beastplate of justice,
And Herod threw stones and what came out was a Temple.
Oh, the poem of stone sadness
Oh, the poem thrown on the stones
Oh, the poem of thrown stones.
Is there in this land
A stone that was never thrown
And never built and never overturned
And never uncovered and never discovered
And never screamed from a wall and never discarded by the builders
And never closed on top of a grave and never lay under lovers
And never turned into a cornerstone?
Please do not throw any more stones,
You are moving the land,
The holy, whole, open land,
You are moving it to the sea
And the sea doesn't want it
The sea says, not in me.
Please throw little stones,
Throw snail fossils, throw gravel,
Justice or injustice from the quarries of Migdal Tsedek,
Throw soft stones, throw sweet clods,
Throw limestone, throw clay,
Throw sand of the seashore,
Throw dust of the desert, throw rust,
Throw soil, throw wind,
Throw air, throw nothing
Until your hands are weary
And the war is weary
And even peace will be weary and will be.
Translated from the Hebrew by Barbara and Benjamin Harshav
poem by Yehuda Amichai
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In a City
In an eastern city where I won’t return
there is a winged stone light and huge
lightning strikes this winged stone
I close my eyes to remember
in my city where I won’t return
there is heavy and nourishing water
the one who gives you a cup of this water
gives you the faith you will still return
in my faraway city that has gone
from all maps of the world there is bread that can nourish
throughout life black as the faith you will see again
stone bread water and the presence of towers at dawn
poem by Zbigniew Herbert
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If someone hits you with a stone, hit him with bread; your bread will return to you and his stone will return to him.
I, Too,
i, too, like
something to
be crisp and
little,
something
small and
beautiful
even if not
original, something
to call mine, something
to return after a time,
i, too, am, a borrower,
and borrowed at the
same time
i, too, like to pick up
a stone
along the shore
and throw it
back to the deeper
part of the sea,
i never like something
that i do not
own, and can never
own,
i give it back, and then
go my way.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Tenants Of The Little Box
Throw into the little box
A stone
You'll take out a bird
Throw in your shadow
You'll take out the shirt of happiness
Throw in your father's root
You'll take out the axle of the universe
The little box works for you
Throw into the little box
A mouse
You'll take out a quaking hill
Throw in your head
You'll take out two
The little box works for you
poem by Vasko Popa
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For All You Are Worth
Throw off your shoes
Throw back your hair
Just lie and relax
As if i'm not there.
Throw off your cares
Throw off your woes
Just sit there and smile
And we'll see how it goes.
Throw off your pain
Throw off your hurt
Just sit there and be there
For all you are worth.
poem by David Keig
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Dust In The Wind
Dust thrown to the wind
Where does this truly begin?
When will it come to an end
Deja vu
Split in two
Whose who
I'm through with all the bullshit I've heard from you
Totally cut off
Seclusion
Walking into an illusion
Never ever land
Who has a plan?
Dust thrown to the wind
Where does this truly begin
When will it come to an end
Deja vu
Split in two
Whose who
Am I the undertaker?
Am I the heart breaker?
The one you never see coming
Till I'm gone
Took off running
Back to the hills
No more thrills
Dust thrown to the wind
Where does this truly begin?
When will it come to an end
Deja vu
Split in two
Whose who
What is a friend?
What is a lover?
Such words bring so much misery
Hate to love
Love to hate
Can anyone see the irony
Attraction isn't the same as destiny
A choice that is like not in me
Its just more dust
I throw it to the wind
Hoping I never see it again
Its just more dust
I throw it to the wind
Hoping I never see it again
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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The Stones Under My Feet
sometimes the stones amaze me
as i tread upon them
they hurt and they look at me
as though asking questions
what is it that hurts you most?
i like to answer but they are all too numb i think
to understand any word that i say
sometimes i like to hurt them in retaliation
but i know i wouldn't work
there is no way that they will say they get hurt
there is nowhere
where i can hurt any stone that i throw to the sea
a stone is gone but not forever
as though it has its own feet and comes back to me
asking the question again: what is it that hurts you most?
i know this vengeance
there is no way that i will tell them
my secret too is like a stone and it will come back to you
without any word, still, silent, sagacious.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Island Boy
So he saved his money, sold his car
And with his eye set on a Southern star
Got the courage to follow his heart
Set out for a brand new start
He's an island boy
Now he's an island boy
Living his life where stress is the enemy
Now he's an island boy
A stone's throw from St. Croix
He's finally found his piece of serenity
Now he tends bar at the Old Mango
And he sees tourists come and go
With their pressed pants and camera case
Too much sun burned on their face
Now he watches the snow on CNN
With all of his dope-smokin' friends
Just look at the hell they must be in
Swears he won't go back again
He's an island boy
Now he's an island boy
Living his life where stress is the enemy
Now he's an island boy
A stone's throw from St. Croix
He's finally found his piece of serenity
You know the love of his life has always been Emily
She loves the man she sees
In her island boy
Now he's an island boy
Living his life where stress is the enemy
Now he's an island boy
A stone's throw from St. Croix
He's finally found his piece of serenity
Island boy
A stone's throw from St. Croix
Island boy
Island boy
song performed by by Kenny Chesney
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Throw Them Back To The Wolves
Throw them back to the wolves.
The ones released from cellblock envy.
Throw them back to the wolves.
Those who love their crime defined.
Throw them back to the wolves.
Those who break laws all the time.
With nothing but 'bling' on their minds.
Throw them back to the wolves.
Trouble makers showing butt.
Groom to believe they should give it up.
Throw them back to the wolves.
Victims of their own disguises.
Throw them back to the wolves.
Raised on 'rap' and packing 'heat'.
Dimmed with wit is their destiny...
This was how they were raised to be.
Detoxed and recovered.
From baubles, beads and bangles hanging.
Some don't want to have another...
Victimizing chain of gold,
To prove to anyone they're bold.
Leaving streets to the others.
Those who choose to do their 'thing'
From swagger punted schoolyard swings...
And learning from demented idols.
Who could care less who is destressed.
Throw them back to the wolves.
The ones released from cellblock envy.
Throw them back to the wolves.
Those who love their crime defined.
Throw them back to the wolves.
Those who break laws all the time.
With nothing but 'bling' on their minds.
Throw them back to the wolves.
Trouble makers showing butt.
Groom to believe they should give it up.
Throw them back to the wolves.
Victims of their own disguises.
Throw them back to the wolves.
Raised on 'rap' and packing 'heat'.
Dimmed with wit is their destiny...
This was how they were raised to be.
Throw them back to the wolves.
Boo doo doo boo doo boo boo doo.
Throw them back to the wolves.
Boo doo boo doo boo do boo do!
Throw them back to the wolves.
Boo doo doo boo doo boo boo doo.
Throw them back to the wolves.
Boo doo boo doo boo do boo do!
Throw them back to the wolves.
That's the way they'll always like it.
With the others in cellblocks...
Locked out!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Amarelinha
Draw a pattern of
Rectangles
On the ground
And I will throw
A stone
Inside one of
The spaces
Then I hop
And hop
Avoiding this
Line and that
To retrieve
What stone I
Have thrown
In my life
Let us talk
About my life
Seriously
Now, I jump
From past
To present
To present
And past
And future in
A very confusing
Manner
And then
Time, this time
Line does not
Exist anymore
My life is that
Stone and you
Are one of those
Spaces
That rectangle
I jump in
And then we stop
This hopscotch
It is dark and we
Have to stop playing
We must go home
Now
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Ill Be Back
(words & music by wayne / weisman)
All right
Well Ill be back, yeah! Ill be back
Like a homesick train on a one-way track
I got to travel and hit the gravel
But Ill be back, yeah! Ill be back
Yeah! Ill return, I shall return
Dont cool those lips, were gonna see em burn
cause Ill be missin your kinda kissin
But Ill be back, yeah, Ill be back
Yeah! there aint nobody tell me stay or go, oh no
And no-one tells the four winds where to blow-ow-ow
Ill be back, Im comin back
Dont throw away that welcome mat
The door Im hopin will still be open a teeny weenie crack
To your shack
So keep that love light burnin, Ill be back
Yeah! there aint nobody tell me stay or go, oh no
And no-one tells the four winds where to blow-ow-ow
Ill be back, Im comin back
Dont throw away that welcome mat
The door Im hopin will still be open a teeny weenie crack
To your shack
So keep that love light burnin, Ill be back
Yeah, Ill be back
song performed by by Elvis Presley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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If someone throws stones at you, throw back bread.
A stone thrown at the right time is better than a stone thrown at the wrong time.
Man - A Macrocosm Of Nature's Intelligence
this hair
on its own
is no life
this stone
solitary
on the floor
is no life
the air on
the wind
is no life
let it steal
into the man
and the plant
a whole world
starts to churn
and soil with
the stone too
start becoming life
into the plant
into the man
the sun on
its own is no life
take him out
everything
stops to glow
the tree, man and
sun, stone....
this hair
on its own
is dead
throw in the man
throw in the plant
and the air
and the sun
and the stone
everything
starts
to grow
nature seeps,
breathes
through each
and everything
jigsaw puzzle
the man himself
a macrocosm
of its intelligence
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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The Love Sonnets Of Proteus. Part III: Gods And False Gods: LXXIII
TO ONE TO WHOM HE HAD BEEN UNJUST
If I was angry once that you refused
The bread I asked and offered me a stone,
Deeming the rights of bounty thus abused
And my poor beggary but trampled on,
Believe me now I would that wrong atone
With such submission as a heart can show,
Asking no bread of life but that alone
Your dear heart proffered and my pride let go.
Give me your help, your pity, what you will,
Your pardon for a sin, your act of grace
For a rebellion vanquished and undone,
The stone I once refused, that precious stone
Your friendship, so my thoughts may serve you still
Even if I never more behold your face.
poem by Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
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Throw It All Away
How could you
Just hurt me
And leave me
(leave me all alone)
How could you destroy my life
How could you throw it all away
What made you
Desert me and deceive me
Why did you just let me down
How could you throw it all away
How could you throw...
How could you throw it all away
Throw it all away
When I gave my all, baby
How could you throw it all away
And I gave my all
How could you throw
How could you throw it all away
Throw it all away
You destroyed my life, baby
How could you throw it all way
How could you
Just lead me
Into thinking
(thinking you would be there)
How could you destroy my heart
How could you throw it all away
I love you
Believe you
And I trusted you
(put all my trust in you)
How could you just let me down
How could you throw it all way
How could you throw
How could you throw it all away
Girl how could you
Throw it all away
How could you just take it all
How could you throw it all away
Oh how could you throw
How could you throw it all away
Throw it all
Throw it all away
When I gave my love
How could you throw it all away
I love you girl
You love me so
Where did we go wrong
I know that i
Gave my all to you
But somehow that wasnt good enough
How could you throw it away
How could you throw it all away
How
Throw it all away
How could you destroy my life baby
How could you throw it all away
How could you throw it all away
How could you throw
How could you throw it all away
How could you throw it all away
Throw it all away
When I gave my all baby
How could you throw it all away
Oh, how could you throw
How could you throw it all away
Throw it all
Throw it all away
How could you destroy my life
How could you throw it all away
Oh, girl I will
How could you throw it all away
Always love you
How could you throw it all away
Forever and ever
How could you throw it all away
song performed by by 112
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Stone
there is something about the stone
that i have been complaining
for not being able to understand
its choice to be silent
and hard
and numb and uncommitted
when it is thrown in the river
it makes no sound of protest
when it is ground
it does not scream
when the rain comes it seems
to be contented with being wet
just the same when the sun shines
and heats it
it makes no bother
until some naughty boy takes a stone
and hits my head
and when i begin to bleed
seeing the very stone used
staring at me without guilt
for any responsibility at all
on the ground
that i begin to understand all these things
what a stone is, how come that a stone shall always be
a stone
no matter what.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Rainy Day Women #12 & 35
Well, they'll stone ya when you're trying to be so good,
They'll stone ya just a-like they said they would.
They'll stone ya when you're tryin' to go home.
Then they'll stone ya when you're there all alone.
But i would not feel so all alone,
Everybody must get stoned.
Well, they'll stone ya when you're walkin' 'long the street.
They'll stone ya when you're tryin' to keep your seat.
They'll stone ya when you're walkin' on the floor.
They'll stone ya when you're walkin' to the door.
But i would not feel so all alone,
Everybody must get stoned.
They'll stone ya when you're at the breakfast table.
They'll stone ya when you are young and able.
They'll stone ya when you're tryin' to make a buck.
They'll stone ya and then they'll say, "good luck."
Tell ya what, i would not feel so all alone,
Everybody must get stoned.
Well, they'll stone you and say that it's the end.
Then they'll stone you and then they'll come back again.
They'll stone you when you're riding in your car.
They'll stone you when you're playing your guitar.
Yes, but i would not feel so all alone,
Everybody must get stoned.
Well, they'll stone you when you walk all alone.
They'll stone you when you are walking home.
They'll stone you and then say you are brave.
They'll stone you when you are set down in your grave.
But i would not feel so all alone,
Everybody must get stoned.
song performed by by Bob Dylan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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