Sadar
Excited, joyful, zealous;
On the banks of the river of love to share my views with you;
And like the swamps and the marshes to respect your name.
Holy, sacred, blessed;
Use the trees for food and the leaves for medicine;
But a tree will bear new fruits according to its moon,
And like the swamps and the marshes to respect your name.
You are Sadar and i do understand your muse,
For the news came to me and i was very glad;
But the joy of this river is towards the eastern region of your land.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Related quotes
No One Demands
... that there must be respect
to the wings of a fly, a mere fly
on top of a garbage
from your kitchen,
that there must be respect
to a leaf of a mahogany
on a permission to take it
away from a twig,
that there must be respect
for the handful of water that
you drink from the river,
that there must be respect
for the porcupine fish
from the bottom of the sea
even if it's form be
hateful,
the air is sacred
the sea is sacred
the tree is sacred
like every man, every baby,
every eye
every hand
the spider is sacred
and so is the carabao
resting in the mud hole
after a hard day's toil
every carapace
an empty shell
every grain of sand
belongs to no one
respect and live
on the blessings
of Mother Earth.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Sami
Your love is shared with the passions of its muse and,
I will bring you the sweet fruits of my love for you always;
For your mind shared on this love is like,
The bird and the nectar up high on a tree top.
Churches and Assembles are around you like war!
And like the Passover Feast of the unleavened bread;
But blessed are your eyes on this sweet love,
For you are all that the muse of this sweet river brought to me.
The legacy of life and time is like you and i on this river,
Enjoying the stimulations of the drama that it takes;
And like the legacy of the care of one's love!
For the flume brickbats are with riposted acts and,
The heart of the poet is very complex to understand at times.
Share this tradition and share this view of mine,
And like the beautiful mind of love on a coast like this;
But with gift of Sami to gladden my heart,
And you are always part of the share from this love.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Sanctuary
'And on the banks, on both sides of the river, there will grow all kinds of trees for food. Their leaves will not wither nor their fruit fail, but they will bear fresh fruit every month, because the water
for them flows from the sanctuary. Their fruit will be for food, and their leaves for healing.' ~ Ezekiel 47: 12
sanctuary
dying trees
and fallen
leaves
dried river
hungry heart
and wounded liver
sanctuary
bones of dust
sanctuary
my head
know longer knows
poem by Jay Reynolds
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Cuomo
Few, dew, new, sew, mew, crew, drew, brew, grew, hew, Jew, pew, yew;
Cuomo is my name and, i want you to understand my muse!
For, i do have a message for you on this side of the river.
I dreamt of it and, it came true;
But, you still don't know who i am at this side of the river! !
So, Stillger came along and told me about your life.
8,000 Volts of love! ! !
Wait for the next truck to bring you along to the side of this river;
For, the fire is still burning on your love,
And like 900°C in the land of your muse!
But Apel came in with the news for me to understand your status very well.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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A Spinster's Life...
by the river the spinster wades
like a black swan
all alone not waiting for anyone
the bamboo leaves not blown
by any ill wind
begin to fall
one by one until all that can
be seen
are needles of morning light
cutting through
the early cold by the banks
to the marshes
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Before the Rain
E knew it would rain, for all the morn
A spirit on slender ropes of mist
Was lowering its golden buckets down
Into the vapory amethyst.
Of marshes and swamps and dismal fens--
Scooping the dew that lay in the flowers,
Dipping the jewels out of the sea,
To sprinkle them over the land in showers.
We knew it would rain, for the poplars showed
The white of their leaves, the amber grain
Shrunk in the wind--and the lightning now
Is tangled in tremulous skeins of rain!
poem by Thomas Bailey Aldrich
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Let's Flood
Planned things not always happen, but happen things you had no plans for. And yet many things that lie ahead of you, you dont know. Our life is like that of a river; joins another river on its way to the ocean; ocean of death, eternity.
It trickles down and down and goes on. Now it's like two... stronger, steadier, and needless to say non-splittable... needless, because; have you ever seen a river divide in parts? They are one now... that is one.
Being one they maybe enjoyed more.... each had their choice of routes to venture... dependability was nil, indulgence could be high and sacrifices meant none....
But that's better this way. They, no, no they, it, it can be more aggressive now. It can tell the world how it wants it, not the world deciding it. It doesn't have to snake down, but will push over and will wash away the stubborn stones on its way to the ocean. Stones will be gentler to it now, will respect it. Bushes will respect it. Scrubs will respect it. Trees will respect. Rocks will respect it. They will respect it.
The ocean is clean
The ocean is pure
The ocean is immortality
The world will respect us
poem by Ali Kazemi
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The Golden Hole
I am beside the river of love,
And of a wondrous marriage to swing my muse;
But of the joy like the flowers to forth a fairer hue.
The niddle's eye takes a camel through,
Far from the sacred shore i stand;
But while i was very sad,
The Golden Hole was there as my hope.
I love my wife and my children,
But let us give praise to the Creator;
Like the tree with the golden hair.
As far as eyes could see and the nose could smell,
For my share of the wine is over the cliff;
And out of the night,
This water from the river is spent and gone.
The moon was very bright on The Golden Hole,
And that germ of kindness will be my hope;
For my old age calls her love to me,
And like the one who does his duty by himself.
That germ of kindness in this hole,
Of the garden of herbs and fruits;
And out of the full heart and the boundless gratitude,
For this Golden Hole is all my hope.
Come and see this hole,
Like the working bee in blossom-dust;
And there is a thing in my mind to say,
But women are so quick to understand.
Fearing the lazy gossip of the port,
For by the river side i stayed and watched;
like a figure seen in the early dawn.
In The Golden Hole,
As a vision of a dream;
But i have loved you longer than you know.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Sonnet: Respect
Respect your elders all if they deserve;
Respect your servants too who you well serve;
Respect your father for tilling the soil;
Respect your mother for her love and toil.
Respect all teachers who gave you knowledge;
Respect your friend who saved you from the ledge;
Respect all good minds who advised you good;
Respect the man of God who gave soul’s food.
Respect all strangers who were all Godsends;
Respect your foes who taught you self-defense;
Respect those evil men who you troubled;
Respect the tempter who well you misled.
Respect your conscience which tells you what’s right;
Respect your God who is your Friend and Guide.
poem by John Celes
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Crossing The River Jordan
Crossing the River Jordan.
Thinking about the rules of your laws to respect my muse;
But my mother is now very old at home.
There are more cows in Argentina than human beings!
But crossing over River Jordan gave me your view;
And like my mother who is now very old,
But i will always respect your laws.
White and dry,
Black and wet! !
The joy of your muse is like crossing over the River Jordan!
But my mother is very old at home,
And she cannot follow me now on this path.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Be Like River
River is like holy mother
Our life line and compared with no other
Its water flow with no noise
Render calmness with full of promises
People are advised to be like river
But they have not seen her before
She has different nature too
Very dangerous attitude to be very much true
When furious takes heavy toll
Destroy everything and uproot all
Touch both the banks and spell disaster
As if she has everything in form of power
It is like curbing someone's desire
Then you may have to get ready or prepare
For any result when she has her time
You can't undermine her ability anytime
Her desire is met sometimes
Some rivers diehard to reach sea anytime
But alas! The way is lost in between
Her desire to meet ocean is never seen
Normally she is cal and quiet
Not crushing us always as that of fate
She is always kind and affectionate
Lovely banks and so many things to relate
Trees and branches welcome with respect
Her action is commendable with an act
Both the sides bear high green grass
The cattle graze and many birds fly over to pass
So create nature like river
Have temperature like fever
Rise in a second and subside quickly
Scold by one hand and love so easily
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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Self Respect
Self respect is self love
Self respect provoke love for others
Self respect is GOD respect
Self respect is self norishing
Self respect is self control
Respect and love
Respect and praise
Respect and join
Respect and rejoyce
Respect and cellebrate
Respect and enjoy
For the love of god is respect.
poem by Nengovhela Murendeni
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No Respect
Respect,
Always everybody looking for some
Respect,
Who do you think youre gonna get it from
Respect,
Anybody here deserving of none
Respect,
Tell me what makes you think
Youre not the one
No respect, no respect none
No respect, no respect none
No respect, no respect none
No respect, no respect none
Respect,
Why be concerned with
Public adulation
Respect,
Pat on the back crying
For attention
Respect,
Finding out what it really
Means to me
Respect,
Honor comes only after
Humility
song performed by by Extreme
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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100,000 Days Of Love
I need it from you,
So give it to me!
And like 100,000 days of love in the land of your muse;
But, when will you allow me in?
Yazoo River,
In the land of my muse and with the mind of peace;
But where is the beginning and the end of this river?
Because, crossing over this river is my dearest dream!
And like 100,000 days of love in the land of your muse.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Moon
lady of the night
so silent in the sky
descending through
the river and sitting on
the marsh
so soft and gentle
as i wade through the water
as i rise and sit on the
bank bathing to your
yellow light.
how i wish she arrives
tonight for another round
of worship
to the moon in the sky
descending and sitting
on the marshes of the
river....
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Valley Of Anchor
To uncover her nakedness like a sweet lover on the bed of roses,
But to come up out of her grave like bat out of hell!
I am in the valley of anchor to share my views with you.
I have tiome to uncover her nakedness,
I have the joy to share her love;
But the muse that muses is all that i share with you as well.
To come up out of her grave like a bat out of hell,
With te valley of anchor to share my mind with you;
But from the days of her youth,
She was all that it takes.
Wrapped in the wings of love is her identity and,
I am in the valley of anchor to make love with her;
But from between her breasts are the true love of her muse.
Her lewdness to all is in the valley of anchor,
And her nakedness to all is seen around her youthful breasts;
But the door of her hope is what she has for you,
Like me being with her all day long.
Take a stick and write upon it,
For i desire mercy on this love than hate;
Like the great River Hiddekel.
She has set water for me to drink on this love,
Like a freewill offering of her love in the valley of anchor;
But be very careful to swim deeply into her love.
Like the King's food and the Queen's water,
Im am in a night vision of love to share my views;
And from between her breasts are the sweet things of love.
The deep and the secrets of her love,
Like the great River Hiddekel pouring down on her nakedness;
Come and explore this valley of her anchor.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Ghost Bear, page 1 of 4
Long ago, in a small village
Where the Great River meets the
Limitless Salt Sea, lived Muin Manitu,
An aging shaman.
Ghost Bear had two good wives
Who gave him four fine daughters
And many grand-children.
But now both wives were dead.
Ghost Bear was getting old,
So old that he made his death song
Mumbling it often under his breath
So he would not forget it.
One night, Raven came to Ghost Bear
In a dream, bringing an important message.
“You must leave wigwam and village,
before the sun rises again.”
“This must be my time, ” thought
Ghost Bear, “My time to die.
I am glad. It is a good time
to leave this world.”
And so, taking only his knife and
His Medicine Bag, Ghost Bear pushed
His canoe out into the river while
All the village slept.
“I will go west on the Great River, ”
Thought Ghost Bear to himself, “Then,
When it is my time to go, I will be
pointed in the right direction.”
All morning long, Ghost Bear paddled
Westward on the Great River, and when
Sun was directly above him, he saw
A raven flying high above.
“I am going true, ” he thought, “Raven
Has sent me an unmistakeable sign.”
And Ghost Bear kept paddling with
Neither food nor drink.
As day became night, Ghost Bear
Continued on, for the full moon was bright
And showed him the right path on the
Great River clearly, brightly.
poem by John Bliven Morin
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The Barrio In The South
the green waters rise
to rinse the roots of the coconut trees
the lilies float
the ripples carry them to a joyful journey
to the banks of the river
where the children play
this is the place that you miss
an island a hut a river
the peace and quiet
of the ipil-ipil leaves
showering when the wind passes
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Inveteracies...
a heap of dry leaves
under the trees
trees like fingers
stretching to reach
the moon
on the marshes
of the big river
the full moon sits
silently
a dog barks
this morning
at the wrong person
someone calls my
name but i do not dare
look back
promises are
feet without floors
faith is always
a blind item
and people accept
them always to
be true
and all giving
and
reliable
blank walls
speak too much
doors close
at the wrong hours of the
day
windows imitating
the natural
beauty of some
sexless eunuchs
facing the monitor
i am the nuclear
sun
threatening the room
that the explosion
is near
the dusts run in panic
the winds
stir the pebbles into
rebellion
etcetera is when
you do not know what is next
from your
self-proclaimed
knowledgeability
30.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Wise Words
Fantastic numerals combined with wise words,
And of your brilliant wisdom in the land of your muse;
But your love to me is like a flowing stream,
And i will live on to respect you always.
Your raised me high with your love that i could touch the sky!
And like news around the world with the muse of love;
But the news of this world is like the echoes of your love! !
And like walking through the rain with you beside me,
For the state of your mind is always with the muse of joy.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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