No Moon No Stars
the day when
a white blank screen
a white blank mind
and an empty heart
sit down to dine and
find the food tasteless
the day without its sun
the night its moon and stars
just strong winds howling over
and over on a vast plain
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Blank Pages
Blank pages
Blank books
Lie with only drowning white
No pretty messages in the sand
No clocks to turn a hand
Blank pages
Blank books
Looking into an empty void
Like staring at purgatory
Words with no meaning making up a story
Blank pages
Blank books
Stay staring at the celing
Empty without effort
Nothing without words
poem by Autumn Winds
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Blank
Blank pages, blank lines
Blank heart, blank mind
Blank feeling, blank soul
Blank high, blank low.
I dont know why
You just cant see
That all you've ever known
Is the blank side of me.
Tabula Rasa
this is a blank wall
or as you wish it, this could be a blank page,
or you may consider this
a blank mind of a child and
you will be teaching him
some things for the first time,
go, scroll, and find something,
do you remember now, why the child is still in pain?
why the walls are stronger? why the blank page still have stains
of blood in there?
some sad memories that refuse to leave?
don't lose hope, there are still more blank spaces of the mind
imagine it to be some kind of a sky
now, put the stars and the moon, and try wishing
someth ing nice and beautiful
like a boat filled with flowers and some light and then silently it sails
on a very peaceful sea like a fine silky cloth covering the dining table
to the place that you always dream to live
forever.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Where's My Inspiration?
I can not think.
My mind is at a gridlock.
Where’s my inspiration?
Boredom is highly overwhelming,
But then I think,
“A poem about boredom! ”
Stupid, huh?
But still,
I-can-not- think.
Where’s my inspiration?
I lie on my bed,
Mind empty.
I stare at the ceiling,
At the blank white wall.
Then I stare at my paper,
A blank white canvas.
But then I look closer
It isn’t blank.
It’s filled with lines,
And not just any lines,
BLUE lines.
They aren’t even solid either.
With closer inspection,
They are dotted.
Some even have breaks in them.
Well,
Look at that.
I’ve found my inspiration.
“What is it? ” You may think.
To tell the truth it’s nothing special.
My inspiration came from everywhere around me.
My closed mind soon opened up and spoke to my hand.
It’s funny how the mind works,
Don’t you agree?
poem by Devon McElveen
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Curtain
Blank screen of doom find me wonderful words,
nothing fancy just words that have a resonance in
my mind and gladden my heart.
I remember a boy of fourteen, every morning at six
he milked, five cows, by hand, leaning his heads on
the cow´s womb he dreamt of Africa
Africa, but I met my wife she is from Congo, so you
may say I know Africa intimately but
that was not what the boy was dreaming of.
O, blank screen do not let me fall into banalities,
it is just I like to remember as much as I can
before the screen the curtain draws the screen.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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White Blank Paper
On a white blank paper
I'm writing the chronicle of a tormented soul
Reality and dream are two different things
Can't achieve the same goal
On a white blank paper
I'm putting the pieces of my broken heart
Vanquished & overpowered by the joy of sorrow
Relinquish to the power of thought of a new start
This white blank paper
Witnessing the commotion of another love story
Love brings tears love creates pain
But only painful love gets the imperial glory
poem by Sourav RCY
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Blank
I wish I was blank
I wish I was blank
I wish I could thank
I wish I was blank
I'd write a letter to you
And there'd be nothing to it
I wouldn't hem and haw
On just how to start it
I wish I was blank
I wish I was blank
I wish I could thank
I wish I was blank
I wish I'd stand up straight
I wish I'd said things different
I wish I'd said nothing
Things would be so perfect
I wish myself to keep
I pray my soul to sleep
I wish myself away
I wish I was blank
song performed by by Smashing Pumpkins from The Aeroplane Flies High
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A White, Blank Wall
I don’t talk
I sit and stare
At a blank wall
A blank, white wall
Like some things, a waste of space
In need of improvement
If walls could talk
Share smiles and happiness
Tears and pain
Laughter and sorrow
Some people would say
“This wall needs color, change”
What’s wrong with it?
There’s no need for change
All it is
Is a blank, white wall
Wanting to scream out, to cry
Wanting to stay, to live
Desperate to live
Needing to live
Not improve of change
It’s just a blank, white wall
poem by Anna Dietze
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The unwritten is also there
a blank paper
limitless as space
to fill the knowledge
here and beyond
and words of God
here, the learned plot
the stars, moon and universe
day and night
to the untutored
the blank paper might
as well be carrying space
limitless, enthralling
yet not fathomable
reachable
the blank page
catches the
essence of the mind
the written is there
the unwritten also there
if you could read
between the lines
if you could sense
the universal mind
the waves at sea
afford only a little view
of the power of the wind
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Lonely! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !
Alone all alone
I lie, with mind
Like a blank white paper
And pen lazy
With the cap open
Alone
I gaze at the sky
And the moon, as if you
Appears so enchanting
But yet so distant
And the stars so sparkling
As if the other loved ones
Alone I try to listen
But today the winds
Do not whisper
The sweet nothings
In the ears of the quiet leaves
As they endlessly
Wait to shiver……..
poem by Maitreyee Joshi
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Blank Walls
it is time to have blank walls
something to start with
where you are more careful with
what to write and
what to draw
you think twice, thrice
before you start your scribbles for
you once drew a cat
and it didn't work well with the dog
which she drew first
you should have talked to her
so everything that you plan
to put on this blank wall
might as well have harmony
& peace & beauty, like the way
she painted her own blank space
with all black colors, and she gave you
an impression of the darkest night
you tried to put some stars and
a full moon to brighten the darkness
of her thoughts, and perspectives
she did not like it
she was in deep mourning, she was very sad
depressed with what happened
when she was a young girl in their house
she set aside the stars and she told you she hated the moon
and you kept your silence and opted to put there the whispers of
wind and the hush of the sea
again she did not like it
the wind made her vomit and the sea made her very sick till
you finally gave up
with the way the blank wall had been painted
and the manner by which she wanted to take it all to herself
you know what was really proper
you said there is still a blue boat on the blank wall
and it is leaving soon finding a new world..... now sailing on
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The White Of The Paper
i like the white screen
i like the white paper
because they ask such
a simple task from me
write as you wish
think as you want to
or dont want to
I feel a white dove
flying amongst wondrous
cumulus clouds
meditate as much as i wish
so that the white becomes
a mere plane of zen,
a vibration of existence
i like the white screen
i like the white paper
because they ask just
such a simple thing of me
to swing myself and exercise
my thoughts so that i let loose
clouds, birds, stars and moon
in the minds of men
i like the white screen
i like the white paper
because they always
are my best friends,
open an infinite plane
for me to act out my antics
for the good of men,
exercise their minds and
let their humours flow
i like the white of the
screen and the paper
because they are always
there to accommodate me
to let the gift from heaven flow
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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There Is Nothing To Write
WELL, FACE THE BLANK WALL
STARE TO THIS BLANK WALL
THERE IS NOTHING TO THIS BLANK WALL
IT IS BLANK
IT IS EMPTY
IT IS A HINDRANCE TO WHAT I WANT TO SEE
IT IS AN OBSTRUCTION
TO WHAT I WANT TO BECOME
THIS WALL
THIS WALL IS MY JAIL
MY PRISON
MY BLINDNESS
THIS WALL MUST BE TORN
THIS WALL MUST BE BOMBED
THIS BLOCK
THIS WEARINESS OF THE HEART
THIS TIREDNESS OF THE SOUL
THIS MALADY OF BEING NOTHING
THIS HAVING NOTHING AT ALL
THERE IS NOTHING TO WRITE
THERE IS NOTHING
THERE IS
now i will write about something
from above
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Today's Blank Wall
just this day
i face a blank wall
it is enticing
its white hand is signaling me to write my thoughts on it
it is empty and wants to be full
just like myself perhaps who knows
i will disappoint it in the same manner that you have
disappointed me
i will not go near it
i will not say a word
i will not write anything
but i will tell it
'you are beautiful'
untouched, unwritten
pure, blank, mute....
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Paper, Only for a Limited Time
Paper, blank and empty
A metaphor only meant for loneliness
White as new born snow
Lets add some words
To make a prophesized poem
Words, only meant for rhetorical use
Clouds that clear, only meant to hide the blue
The living, moving ocean that is our sky
Words, only meant for questioning
What are words but meaning
Clearing clouds, our living pulse bleeds through
Now this blank piece of paper
Has a shadow, and my shadow -combine
Lets make music together
Beautiful, wonderful, majestic music
Lets be music together-
And dance our hearts to something holy
Paper, blank and empty
But easily filled to create art
Art that can change the world
Turn it upside down, or nothing
Paper, blank and empty
But only for a limited time.
poem by Troy Clark
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The Blank Space Inside Us
there are blank pages
some say that it is a must that something must be drawn
words to be written
thoughts to stifle, capture,
stuffed,
there is a day that you prefer
to keep a blank sky
a dark sky without stars
no light
when you close your eyes
you are at home with this blank page
words become
invincible
but they are all there
perfectly correct
well viewed by the eyes of your heart
somehow you go beyond
your every
day fences
move away, jump and run towards
an island of light
a patch of green grass
still no stars
pure blank
it is when you do not believe in the power of thoughts
when what preoccupies you
is nothing when you are finally one with all
space
it is too peaceful to even dropp a word
like a pin on
a shiny floor of tiles....
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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I'm going to dance!
I'm going to dance
I'm going to dance!
I will see the stars
holding hands with the moon
kisses send from the shutting stars
will twirl on my soul
with no control
I'm going to dance
I'm going to dance!
I will dissolve
disoriented fear
and send it
to the clouds
the cotton puffs
so white and pure
will turn grey
for a moment to come
and thunders sound
when fear is there
will clear the air
after its all done
all will be one
I'm going to dance
I'm going to dance!
On the canvas
and imprint
my heart
on the blank
white cloth
not red
but silver and gold
poem by Kasia Fedyk
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Blank Page
Blank Page
This new blank page, a word processor page, I cannot touch. I ought to leave it this
way, just look at it and dream of what I could have written on it. If I delet the words
I have written now, it will be blank again, no history, no crumbled up sheet of paper
in the wastebasket. For now it is too late but I might erase it when I come to an end.
My wife was in Johannesburg once for surgery, being born in Congo but light skinned
and travelling on a Portuguese passport, she boarded a bus for the blacks.
Great consternation, she was told by police to go on the white only bus since she
was Portuguese. Racism and anti Semitism are so stupid, it makes no sense, one race
thinks it is superior to others. Now it is the Moslems who are feeling the surge
of ignorance. We want them to be more like us and not Insist of doing their own things.
In Israel, for instance the European Jews feel vastly superior to Arab Jews, This in a state
that is an artificial construct. The culture of Europe in the Middle East. We know Israel,
as it exist today must come to an end. So there I said it, this white virtual sheet has been
befouled by an opinion no one wants to know about. So what do I do know? Erase this
page so it is blank again and I can write about the moon?
poem by Oskar Hansen
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Goodbye....
i must write you with a heavy heart
this heart of stone
blank, numb, gray, rough,
silent,
i write this at dusk,
there are yet no birds flying in the twilight skies
some boats are still there
but only shadows
i want to be completely stoned
to bleed, and be broken,
to be hurt by you once again
in this masochism
last night, you spread your legs, you hang yourself in bed
crucified in the ecstasy
of our love on concealed identities
no one sees us, no one knows us,
except
the angry God.
this morning, i see strangled bedsheets, off white,
empty glasses on the floor, stained carpets,
half open windows looking into the vast blue ocean
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Half Full
I'll write these words.
I'll write more tomorrow.
Will they be read by anyone,
does it matter either way?
I am reading them,
and that goes to prove that they've been written,
that my mind is not blank.
I have sympathy for the blank-minded people.
Although I'm sure,
they would sympathize with me...
if only their minds were not blank,
And they weren't just content to be.
poem by Edward Veilleux
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