Anaconda
The giant anaconda’s scales glint, gleam.
serpentining slowly in between
branch overhang of some piranha stream.
Strength selection studied shows in gene
through evolution’s jungle grey, brown, green -
that, sunlit, on reflection, golden seem.
Gravely swaying, swathed in glistening sheen,
she undulates through undergrowth, is seen
sliding with tongue fork-hair,
gliding over there,
where a great gurgling geyser
ceaselessly hisses steam.
Though modern, South American, this scene
a prehistoric portrait might have been
when taken in the context of ringed layer
on layer of suitors curling round spawn glair…
How can she judge between them, how compare?
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Related quotes
Seeing a Clearer Me
layer by layer
i peel so that
like a glass
you can view me
crystal clear as a virgin river
a polished diamond
decades of
practice for those
seasoned fingers
to strike at her core
to bring out those few
beethoven scores
he tuned up the world for
a great watch maker
filing his cog to tighten time
the precision of mind
to keep a universal lie at bay
verse by verse
layer by layer
i peel to get to
the sheen the almighty
laid hidden in me
layer by layer
i peel off the world
to see a clearer me
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Overhang
Good morning, gentlemen. why the uneasy frowns?
Too much everything and I cant recall. did I let you down?
Nobody will answer me. makes me feel that I want to die.
My mind is inclined to lie.
Oh, no --- think I did it last night again.
Oh, no --- been out on the overhang again.
My hotel room was a battleground.
How did I find my way?
My wallets gone and my jackets torn.
My memorys a hazy grey.
Do I seem to remember now, two creatures about eight feet tall?
No safety net to break my fall.
Oh, no --- must have done it last night again.
Oh, no --- crawled out on the overhang again.
Been out on the overhang.
Watching demons and spirits glide.
Heading out to the nearest star.
Better lead me back to the bar.
Oh, no --- might do it tonight again.
Oh, no --- crawled out on the overhang again.
Been out on the overhang.
Crawling out on the overhang.
Out of the overhang.
song performed by by Jethro Tull
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Thirteen
At first, this is the face I will show you
Shallow, thin, smooth
Then we feel each other, like some kind of
New found friends, I
Take another layer, and tell you, this is my face,
Some scars, and lines of age, and furrows,
Then we write many emails, and remember
Common things, like a certain familiarity,
Another layer is taken and exposed,
The face of a sick man, with some
Disappointments in his mind,
Some wounds, wrinkles, and so you
Think, are there other layers of faces still
To show,
Deeper, deeper is there another layer to show
Another face of this man?
Yes, there is another layer, more faces
Hidden underneath each layer,
As we go on, learning from ourselves,
And me learning from myself,
I will be digging for more faces,
Because I am never static
I am growing, and for each growth
Like molting
Another face comes out
Soon, I hope, I must come out
With the most beautiful face
The we can be both proud of,
It is just a matter of time
Depending on how well you have loved me
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Faces and layers of faces
At first, this is the face I will show you
Shallow, thin, smooth
Then we feel each other, like some kind of
New found friends, I
Take another layer, and tell you, this is my face,
Some scars, and lines of age, and furrows,
Then we write many emails, and remember
Common things, like a certain familiarity,
Another layer is taken and exposed,
The face of a sick man, with some
Disappointments in his mind,
Some wounds, wrinkles, and so you
Think, are there other layers of faces still
To show,
Deeper, deeper is there another layer to show
Another face of this man?
Yes, there is another layer, more faces
Hidden underneath each layer,
As we go on, learning from ourselves,
And me learning from myself,
I will be digging for more faces,
Because I am never static
I am growing, and for each growth
Like molting
Another face comes out
Soon, I hope, I must come out
With the most beautiful face
The we can be both proud of,
It is just a matter of time
Depending on how well you have loved me.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Fall Leaves Dance
Look up and they're green,
Look up and they're yellow and green.
Then they're yellow, orange, red and green.
And then most are yellow, green, orange, brown,
Masses of moving colors, dancing up and down.
Slow, colorful dances bemuse the morning breeze,
The pace quickens with the evening wind.
It's right, it's left, it's up and down,
It's east, to west, to north, to south,
Warmed and energized by the setting sun.
Squirrels race among the leaves
Doing their dance routines,
Skimming and swaying the branches,
Weighting the limbs and twigs
With buoyant starts, stops and turns.
The new season is appearing: Fall is here!
Quietly and slowly birds hop from branch to branch
Camouflaged among the leaves
That silently fall, to carpet the ground and invite
New crushing, musical rolls from children at play.
poem by Hildred Marjorie Schloss
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Lasagna
this is lasagna
your favorite dish
at the bottom is
love
on the second layer
is regret
the fillings of
meaty lust and
spices of
hot desire and on the
top layer is this
pretense
one does not bite it
and then
you settle for hate
fuming madness
of love
unrequited
you wish the tongue
is dead
or the teeth of the
non-taker
crumple into
sand
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Bradley
Listen to me,
For, i am talking to you;
And like the muse of love in the great deep!
But, who is ready to help the afflicted souls?
Laid,
Layer over layer! !
But, my name is Bradley;
And, i am talking to you!
So, take in the positive acts and eliminate out the negative.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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N4
my theory lives thru
as you have said it: these are all lies
lies and more lies
and you know them all to be lies,
but as you said it,
you begin to understand the truth
beneath these lies
a layer of grass
another layer of flowers
another layer of clouds
beneath is the niche
burying the nuggets of
my own wisdom, how i live my life
and justify it later
before God, shall all lies be
truths
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Anchorite
Layer by layer, a pterygium
was removed to improve the vision.
Eyes did not blink.
The words did not come
on your tongue.
You learned to become a stranger.
A cemetery woke up tonight.
No body was going to put
to sleep in dark.
For peace you die,
living alone with death
in a desert of bullets.
Under the sun
you abandon food for the sake of red ants,
who were going to crawl on your body.
poem by Satish Verma
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scatter layer
by layer, eight-layered
cherry blossoms!
haiku by Masaoki Shiki
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Life is like an onion: you peel off layer after layer and then you find there is nothing in it.
quote by James Huneker
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Onion Skin Disguise
Layer after layer to peel off
Issues, that no longer serve
“No not I”….you may scoff
Then get what you deserve
ROTMS
poem by Ray Lucero
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At The Core Of My Being
a cake with white
icing, some sugar
red roses and
confectioner leaves
of green around
the chocolate cake
layer upon layer
to give an impression
of fullness and
solidity,
at the core is the
softness of air bubbles
trapped within,
something is empty
so soft, something like
a void unaffected still
by heat and time.
that is what i am
and i love it.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Layer by layer art strips life bare.
quote by Robert Musil
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Layers Of My Existence
peel me, not like an onion where you shall cry for every
layer, no, i do not require tears here, at most, you may need
only to smile, and then be so patient, as you peel me
layer by layer, as i watch, and as you carefully peel me
with your bare hands, i will allow it, all for you and your
curiousity,
you discover the erotic layer
and in there exists the desire
for an adventure, the disregarding
of sin, and then peel me further
move on,
find the layer of my
intellect, you shall find what i have
told you all about, my nerves and
common sense, my strivings to go
deeper towards my self, and then
peel me further, you see the bone
of my contentions, my hardened
principles and uncompromises
then peel me further, find the
marrow that makes all the blood
of my life, my sorrows and pains,
my exhilarations and bliss and
joys and happiness, and you will
say there is nothing more to find.
you are wrong. There is this last
peel that you cannot see. It is like
air, and it floats and it gets in,
it always finds an empty space,
and you cannot find it there anymore,
it is now inside you and you cannot
get that out of your system
you must accept this:
i have become
an essential part of you, and there is
nothing now that you can do.
you see, in peeling me, you find
no exit anymore. Whether you
you will be happy or sad, it is
already beyond my control.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Whoever Said The World Is Small
I've travelled far from my old home
Yet I've not been to Paris or Rome
Just two of the many Cities I have not seen
Yet I have travelled in places brown and green
Though many have seen far more than me
I write of the beauty I see
Though time on my life ticks on ceaselessly
I'm getting on in years sixty three
It is a big World the World out there
And not one who has been to everywhere
Whoever said the World is small
When it is quite huge overall
From the stream of the brown mountain trout
One might say I've ventured far south.
poem by Francis Duggan
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The Mountain Of Malady
in the mountain of malady
the sharp fingernails of probity
on the hands of faith
dig the wells of whereto
time as usual is so patient
no stone is left unturned
layer by layer of fossilized moments
upturned and the quizzical look of
mercy continues to please
the stabs of light sometimes
hurt like murderous intent
but the quest has to continue
we all look for what is inside this
centuries of mysteries
time is cold. trees are felled.
it rains all night. the winds are angry.
at the bottom of it all beyond the thick layer
of lust and desire,
pain and betrayal, shame and fall?
what did you really find?
chunks of golden silence. platinum gaze.
diamond existence.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Peeling Life Layer By Layer
like onions
(let me say this again
on an overused cliche)
we peel our lives
layer by layer and we shed
tears
i have done it
and (let me say this once again)
i arrive at the core and
whew! (did you notice it?)
there is nothing worth seeing
there.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Wet Monkey l
Nothing like that had ever happened before
at Casa Verde-the name Aunt Salome gave it
soon after it was built, all of native mahogany
with a no-more-than-expected number of windows,
so why the name I'm not exactly sure,
Unless you count the time the anaconda got in-
not a very big one, but feisty all the same,
with a fine sleek head, breathing scales, a slide-out pink tongue
and soft, sable-on-ochre markings looking like infinity signs.
It seemed to scrawl its name in the shallow pool
'anaconda, anaconda' starting ripples up
that doused themselves out at the rim,
til it slithered up the dropped-in stick ladder
and quickly disappeared toward the forest,
flattening the grass as it swam.
But this was different: a mammal.
How did I get mixed up in it?
Well I heard the whole thing from the start,
beginning with a splash, a little wet kiss sound
about 5 am, followed by a silence-milliseconds,
then a white-faced cry,
which could have come from a child,
followed by a terrified gulp
issued from a warm-blooded gullet, I supposed.
Mindless of the chill (jungle-mornings get cool)
I leapt to the window wearing not a stitch....
poem by Morgan Michaels
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Corn
Nibbling
Your kernels
Layer to layer
How sweet
How supple
Unlike your husk
You are palatable
(Written on October 06 2011 Kuala Lumpur Malaysia)
poem by Chester Maynes
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