I've been thinking about that old Zen conundrum what's the sound of one hand clapping My personal opinion--nothing. You don't have two hands, you don't have any clapping. It's as simple as that. Stars, galaxies, clapping hands, what's the point The point is that we all need somebody, whether you're a supercluster or a little proton, a yin or a yang. Everybody is hooked into everybody else.
quote by Geoffrey Neighor
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Old Poet And The Young Poet
a young poet complains
the life of a poet gets too boring
when there are no readers
or hands clapping
perhaps he is searching for
fame or honor
the old poet believes otherwise
the years of silence
bury him into oblivion
he had those hands clapping
in the passions of his youth
the summit of fame is the mountain
he worked for
he once lived on top of the hill
the naives think he is the cloud king
it is when you still love to write
even if no one is listening
that the life of the poet becomes
a perfect volcanic cone
on the day of the eruption
red magma not lava flows on the river
no one screams
there are no more hands
asking for help
no one no one
tells any story
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Canción del Mariachi
the usual stars
and guitar under the
open sky
the usual dance
and clapping of the hands
affairs of the heart
forgetting everything
the stars, the moon
man woman and the
child to come
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Ballerina Style
Lift me down again
that always feels new;
Twirl me down again
to cure my dizziness.
Turn my pedestal upside down
finding me with Humilities Smile
on my upside face.
Can a man walk on one leg?
Can you hear the sound of one hand clapping?
Can you hear a butterfly sing?
You can.
Can anything compare to
the lift me down,
the dizzy cure
the upside down pedestal
and the one legged man walking
one hand clapping
the butterfly smile?
Yes, that would be you;
You're my dance partner
lifting me down
twirling me
upside down
on the pedestal
on one leg
ballerina style.
And now
you know
how dancing feels
when loved
and being loved:
twirled upside down.
poem by Lonnie Hicks
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Thats
foot ball
short...
upper the gole....
hands clapping....
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
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Enlightenment
Chop that wood
Carry water
Whats the sound of one hand clapping
Enlightenment, dont know what it is
Every second, every minute
It keeps changing to something different
Enlightenment, dont know what it is
Enlightenment, dont know what it is
It says its non attachment
Non attachment. non attachment
Im in the here and now, and Im meditating
And still Im suffering but thats my problem
Enlightenment, dont know what it is
Wake up
Enlightenment says the world is nothing
Nothing but a dream, everythings an illusion
And nothing is real
Good or bad baby
You can change it anyway you want
You can rearrange it
Enlightenment, dont know what it is
Chop that wood
And carry water
Whats the sound of one hand clapping
Enlightenment, dont know what it is
All around baby. you can see
Youre making your own reality. everyday because
Enlightenment, dont know what it is
One more time
Enlightenment. dont know what it is
Its up to you
Enlightenment. dont know what it is
Its up to you everyday
Enlightenment, dont know what it is
Its always up to you
Enlightenment, dont know what it is
Its up to you, the way you think
song performed by by Van Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Transcend
transcend fame
there is more beyond the sound
of the clapping hands
transcend even your way
of looking at yourself
for when you begin to close your eyes
and even be blind
with what you can see
it is at this moment
when you begin to see what everyone
has not ever seen
it is everything now
not something not someone
not where not when
not what and not even why
wonder and wonder and keep
wondering
that is the start and the beginning
and there
there is no time even
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Zen
and then he
asked about all these things:
must you
have heard about the
ten deaf
dwarfs of
the islands of Acidophiles?
the sound of one hand
clapping on the
hills of
Pedophilisimones?
in his innocence he
prostrates himself upon the ground
and listens
to the ears of the earth
the hands of some roots
buried underneath
it is Zen
and the doZen
and the
froZen moments of
ZenO
He shakes his head
rising up and that is what happens
when he finally gets
his much deserved
Zero, the illegitimate brother
of Zorro.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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I was brought up singing gospel, and I really enjoy getting the church up on their feet, their hips swaying, their hands clapping, it's a great feeling to evoke that energy for the Lord.
quote by Jennifer Hudson
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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That's my Moment
oh! faith that always come in the midst of nothingness
shower thy blessing to now more of the things my
life needs, you have been in every conscience, reflected
in all hands, seduce in every eyes that tears in thy
most Holy Name, who master the universe through out
eternity
look upon me. in the highest echelon I conquer, wondering
in command to the clapping hands of the people who
believe that I am a little god, in the arena of rings and
stage I always stand, my everything brings me to survive
in each gift you give, cheering with out knowing of where
this might be the end, yet! I forget to recess my human
strength who signal and give me the signal that everything
has gone
I shouted when all I see is everybody happy, not I know
I murmur in my heart saying it’s my moment, of where I
fought so hard just to get the Honor and Prestige now
you see, I kept this all through the years, believing that
it would set me free, and I know it’s not that to be easy,
where I we’ll surrender my pride and bravery to myself,
that I am nothing without; the shouting, the cheering, the
clapping of hands and the laughter I used to vouch
my moment has come telling me that, happiness and
the joy welcomes every time, my heart desire, and the love
entangle in distress form always ask what is perfection,
for I always project that my life forward to what I love
to do
as everything has kneel in my face, my strength nerve
to command, asking me to reach of what is the top, the
all memories of where I know that's my moment in time,
just a passing moment.......and I cried
poem by Antonio Liao
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Clique
clique
like a camera's snappy sound
you get a face on paper
you remember
pain.
clique
you hear the sound of clapping hands
exhorting the fame within your circle.
each to his name, his bias, and prejudice.
the bold line is drawn.
outside, they move around their circles too.
they're not sad.
those excluded, too, know how to find
themselves
they have their own feet and hands
their sticks
and carrots too,
to munch
in accordance with their own kind
the way how their teeth
are designed
their mouths spouting invectives
against those
not towing the line
'we have our guidelines' the ugliest of them all say that.
i, too, draw a circle of my existence.
in keeping myself in
i keep them out too.
there i take my own bed and pillow
and blanket.
to have a nice sleep alone.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Every Knee
Wherefore God had highly exlted him and given him a name
Which is above every name and at the feet of jesus
Every knee shall bow
Of things of heaven and of things of earth
And things under the earth and at the name of jesus
Every tongue shall confess that he is king
Under God the father
Christ is king, he is god
Who so you seek you deny
That in the begining was the word and the word was with god
The word was god. so why do you fight
Which were not born of blood, nor of the flesh
Nor of the will of man, but of god
The word became flesh and dwelt among us
And we beheld his glory
Full of grace and truth
Whos gonna bow down? every knee
Whos gonna confess? every tongue
2x
Prophets of the past, claim the son of man would come
With their hands lifted up and their eyes to the sky
They problaim the name of jesus christ
People may ask why, who do you live this way
But they know the truth, for he is the truth
Desperate is their lives, so whats the use
Heres on for the funky drummer: keep the rythems rollin
In your face, I got the bass, without a trace
Hes going, hes gone and Im on the microphone
And Im known to get rough
So thake some time out of my rhyme bro and strutt your stuff
Prophets were four, Ill show you whats in store
Give praises to my king so now can I get an encore?
And keep clapping, keep clapping, keep clapping, keep clapping
Hey, yo, what kappening brothers getting jacked
When you step up to me with that disrespect
I thinks its time for us to put your evil butt in check
And if you dont believe me, tell me who is next
And somebody tell the devil, that his match is met
From the word of god, so you know its the truth
And I tell you with power chump, so what ya gonna do?
Ill make it known again that were just spreading the good news
And well have your crews saying your jesus is one smooth
Whos gonna bow down? every knee
3x
Wherefore God has highly exalted him and given him a name
Which is above every name, and the feet of jesus,
Every knee shall bow
Of things of heaven, of things of earth, and things under earth
And at the name of jesus, every tongue shall confess that he is king
Under God the father
song performed by by P.O.D.
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Clapping with the right hand only will not make a noise.
Clapping with the right hand only will not produce a noise.
As He Was Reading His Poems
he stuttered on every line
like the way he stumbled in the days of his life
he had his nursery lines
as simple as his life has always been
an evening of poetry
with a group of friends and peers
there were so many cheers
and some hands clapping
expressions of ways of loving
and then there was this hug
and the green tea bag
and my eyes open for the purpose of his line
nothing complicated but divine
just a celebration of life
less the knife
seeing himself in the mirror
as a new human being so pure
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Decapitation Of What is Familiar
as simple as
a triangle
two sides with
a middle
two arguments
with a solution
familiar as
the sea of grass
fluid and
ever green
take them all out
from a box of
the usual
elevate them
higher from what
we expect
a new look
to old places
extended meanings
to what have been disregarded
no, it is not a play
of words
it is the fusion of
what we refuse to know
and what they are
no, it must not be what
we are
but what they can be
yes, it is the sweetest
sound of the single hand clapping
Prince Serendipity
and her Princess Stupidity
wedding
we were those kids
laughing
because the Emperor
is wearing clothes
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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A given excuse that was not asked for implies guilt. Clapping with only the right hand will not make a noise.
El Merengue
Mexican clad horsemen
ladies in long skirts
circle dance, stretching hands
clapping of hands,
horses set free in the tundras
snow melting
at the cafe, a muscular man meets
a very feminine woman,
they talk a while, the woman giggles
the man holds her hands
they go for a walk
and it is getting dark
they go inside a copa cabana
drink wine
the moon is full and appears
sits upon a roof
the man pulls down his trouser
the woman undresses herself
he puts off the light
she closes the window.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Loving You
loving you
i shall rejoice
clapping with
one hand
you ask me
if i can fly
using my left wing
you make a
conclusion:
this matter is impossible.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Let There Be Music
let there be music
turn the music player on
let there be dancing
let there be laughter
let there be nice conversations
and feasting
and touching and kissing
let our hips sway
let there be drinking
and smoking
let there be noise
and stamping of feet
and clapping of hands
then i will announce
who will die next
poem by Antonio Liao
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