Love Is Like Sand
I said it too,
Love is like sand,
It slips down through fingers,
But some grains stick with the palm,
And when it is bushed,
These grains pass through eyes
While journeying to the soul,
They often weep and wail
Lying in its secret channels,
But troubling a lot.
poem by Muhammad Shanazar
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Hourglass Sand
Through the hourglass
watching
grains of sand falling.
I see time slipping by.
To myself I wonder.
Do we pass with such ease
through the hourglass of life?
Like tiny grains of sand cascading?
When that sand has gone.
Does that mean time has stopped
until I turn the glass over?
And the sand again begins to fall.
Through our hourglass
as we pass like grains of sand.
How many frowns can we turn to smiles?
How much good can we make from bad?
When our sand has run out.
Has our time stopped as well?
Who will turn over our hourglass?
Restart our time renew our opportunities?
poem by Kurt Hearth
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Patience, Patience
the child with a black coat
on this cold day
sits there beside a brick
church of spanish
architecture
the yard is quiet except
for the sound of the flapping
of doves feedind on some
rice grains
the boy has a black hair
and his feet are stained with
mud his fingers dirty with
some sticky sauce
he spreads the rice grains
from his palm to the
muddy grounds
the doves hover and land
on the spot where the grains
are freely spread
he sits with them
surrounded
the doves are watching him
and he watches carefully each
dove that eyes on his grains
he likes to snatch just one
to bring home to mother
the doves are too careful
it is just the rice grains nothing more
eye to eye
both wait for what shall happen next
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Hour Glass
As grains start to fall, everything is new.
Nothing is known about what to do.
As the pile of grains continues to grow,
It seems easier to know which way to go.
When grains approach a quarter of the way,
Things appear less black and white versus an earlier day.
But the world is exciting and there’s plenty of time.
Any thoughts of the hour glass give way to the sublime.
Pleasure, money, power and love battle for share,
While the grains at the top become increasingly rare.
At half way flowing grains take on a resounding force,
Though few pay attention as they race on their course.
Mental and physical factors band together as reminders,
But many still prefer to continue using their blinders.
As the grains accumulate to their three quarters state,
The niave and unprepared are in for a sad, brutal fate.
They still act as if they have power over the grains and the glass.
Nothing could be more wrong as the last few grains pass.
For matter not the importance or the manner of any man
When his last grain falls, the hour glass won’t turn over again.
poem by Gregory Huyette
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GRAINS of SAND
Grains of sand
on which I stand
burn my feet
from the sun's intense heat.
I bury them quickly
to keep them cool.
The grains of sand
can be too cruel.
And now I know
I played the fool
for I left my sandals
where it was cool.
Afraid to move,
I see a child.
I call to him
as if I'm wild.
'My shoes, my shoes
please bring them here.'
He looks and waves,
then disappears.
And so I stay
and face the day
stuck in grains of sand.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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I Love You More
I love you I love you I love you
I love you I love you I love you
I love you I love you I love you
I love you I love you I love you
I love you more than there are ocean grains of sand
I love you more than there are voices in the wind
I love you so I cant let go
I love you so I want the whole wide world to know
Its not unusual to feel this way
Sometimes I feel a bit insane
I will confess I deserve nothing less than
What youve given me so far
I feel a high when I am by your side
My lifes so bright like summer skies
I dreamed so long to have someone like you
And now youre here with me
And it feels so good
1 I love you more than there are ocean grains of sand
It must be love if I feel this way
I love you more than there are voices in the wind
Only love makes me do these things
I love you so I cant let go
Now that I have you
I love you so I want the whole wide world to know
I always thought you were my soulmate
And extension of my heart
The angels say its a spiritual thing
We will never be apart
Thats why Im high when I am by your side
My lifes so bright like summer skies
I dreamed so long to have someone like you babe
And now youre here with me
And it feels so good ooh
Repeat 1
I love you more than all the ocean grains of sand
I love you more than all the voices in the wind
I love you so yeah
Never let you go
I love you so I want the world to know
I love you more than all the ocean grains of sand
I love you more than all the voices in the wind
I love you so
Never let you go
I love you so I want the world to know
I love you more than all the ocean grains of sand
I love you more than all the voices I hear in the wind
I love you so
Never letting go
I love you so I want the world to know
Ooh boy I love you so
24/7 it wont get old
Ooh boy I love you so
24/7 it wont get old
Ooh boy I love you so
24/7 it wont get old
Ooh boy I love you so
24/7 it wont get old
song performed by by En Vogue
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In The Palm Of Your Hand
In the palm of your hand
you hold my heart.
Cradle it gently, my love
so it will never fall apart.
In the palm of your hand
you hold my love.
Carress it tenderly forever
and always place it above
everything that you touch.
Hold my hand
in the palm of your hand
so that I may always feel
that the sifting grains of sand
in the hourglass of time
will never be able to steal
these precious moments away.
Let them be able to stay
always in the palm of your hand.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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Grains of Sand
Rolling in receding back
I watch the ocean’s waves.
Wondering what do they bring
or take away.
Reaching to my feet
some sand I scoop.
Through my fingers
those tiny grains flow.
Some so smooth
as if their journey long.
Others jagged sharp.
Had they not traveled far?
I muse to myself
What tales could they tell?
Relating their travels
carried by the seas.
if any what secrets
might they hide?
Tragedies triumphs
fair seas and foul.
Had they witnessed
great things and small?
As my mind wandered
imagination followed.
Again the waves roll in.
Now the sand is gone.
That sand I held
taken away.
Where will the seas
carry those grains?
On what other shores
will they a visit pay?
poem by Kurt Hearth
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Love And Friendship
Love and friendship
are the most precious gifts
than anyone can have
we must treasure them
less they slip through are fingers
like grains of sand.
poem by David Harris
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Last Split Second
Sometimes in the heat of despair
we lost sight of perspective
It bends and curves and distorts
Like light round a black hole
and what we think of as truth is wildy out of proportion
yes the grains of truth are there running through the narrow waist of our preception
but each individual speck is not the beach, the beach is more than grains of sand
is this your last split second? will you spend it looking at a grain of sand or at the beach?
poem by Jilted BUTTERFLY
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A Dream Within A Dream
Take this kiss upon the brow!
And, in parting from you now,
Thus much let me avow-
You are not wrong, who deem
That my days have been a dream;
Yet if hope has flown away
In a night, or in a day,
In a vision, or in none,
Is it therefore the less gone?
All that we see or seem
Is but a dream within a dream.
I stand amid the roar
Of a surf-tormented shore,
And I hold within my hand
Grains of the golden sand-
How few! yet how they creep
Through my fingers to the deep,
While I weep- while I weep!
O God! can I not grasp
Them with a tighter clasp?
O God! can I not save
One from the pitiless wave?
Is all that we see or seem
But a dream within a dream?
poem by Edgar Allan Poe
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Feeding The Chickens
the grains in your hands
you spread them on the ground
chickens come near you
making you feel like you are the
United States of America
and they are the countries that depend on you
those third world bastards
those colonies, those developing ones
the grains become your bombs
under your keeping
you think you are the only one who has that sole
divine right to keep these grains (yes the bombs)
inside your hands
Holy cow! Who are you? Who are YOU!
(repeat the question 10x)
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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A Rolling Stone
Ive been (? ) my life just a rolling stone,
When I needed your love, baby, youre always gone.
In my life I know that something is missing,
Grains of sand is really all youve been giving.
I need more loving baby, I need more (? kissing? ),
Now I want (? ) that you got.
They say a rolling stone never gathers no moss,
One day we will slow down and find that love is lost.
In my life I know that something is missing,
Grains of sand is really all youve been giving.
I need more loving baby, I need more (? kissing? ),
Now I want (? ) that you got,
Now I want (? ) that you got.
(? ).
Now I want (? ) that you got.
In my life I know that something is missing,
Baby, grains of sand is really all youve been giving.
I need more loving baby, I need more (? kissing? ),
Now I want (? ) that you got,
Now I want (? ) that you got.
song performed by by Grace Jones
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I think a responsibility comes with notoriety, but I never think of it as power. It's more like something you hold, like grains of sand. If you keep your hand closed, you can have it and possess it, but if you open your fingers in any way, you can lose it just as quickly.
quote by Diana Ross
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Maya
little brown birds with grey beaks and a patch of black
on their heads
three of them
drinking water on a pond of water created
by the little rain this morning
as i go near them
they all look at me and then in a sudden
they all fly away leaving some ripples in the
muddled pond
i never think of them as my enemies
they all leave at once
i do not have a gun
or a club or a slingshot
what i have in my hands are rice grains, nothing but rice grains
yes, rice grains for all of them
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Hourglass
The Hourglass
By: Adam M. Snow
The hourglass drops grains of sand;
with thy one I take in hand.
For time will soon cease and end in fear;
for they would come and disappear.
The hourglass falls at the end;
for there will be no one left to befriend.
When the last sand falls;
the writings will be shown on the walls.
The hourglass shown thy pain;
for the light will soon rain.
The hourglass drops grains of sand;
with thy one I take in hand.
poem by Adam M. Snow
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We Didn't Say
Years slip through our fingers
like the grains of sand.
We make friends
that mature in our lives
and then one-day
heaven takes them away
leaving us with only memories
and words we didn't say.
12 May 2012
poem by David Harris
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You Haven't Been Bushed Yet!
You haven't been bushed yet!
You haven't been as bushed
As a bushed man can get.
Because a bushed man bushed,
Gets down on his knees
Doing the best he can
To get a whiff...
Of whatever fresh air is left!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Drying The Grains Under The Sun....
we dry the grains today
under the sun
they die.
they shrink.
we think that by dying
the grains can stay that long
and then
ready for the next steaming
delicious for our
mouths
filling our hunger
in times of drought.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Complaceny
from my hands
you little bird with a black beak
shall take the grains
i wait for time to grow you
strong wings so you can fly away and join
your family
and then you have wings
why do you want to stay still in my house
pecking the grains in my hands?
what is it
that you love on the lines of my palms?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Sandpiper
The roaring alongside he takes for granted,
and that every so often the world is bound to shake.
He runs, he runs to the south, finical, awkward,
in a state of controlled panic, a student of Blake.
The beach hisses like fat. On his left, a sheet
of interrupting water comes and goes
and glazes over his dark and brittle feet.
He runs, he runs straight through it, watching his toes.
- Watching, rather, the spaces of sand between them
where (no detail too small) the Atlantic drains
rapidly backwards and downwards. As he runs,
he stares at the dragging grains.
The world is a mist. And then the world is
minute and vast and clear. The tide
is higher or lower. He couldn't tell you which.
His beak is focussed; he is preoccupied,
looking for something, something, something.
Poor bird, he is obsessed!
The millions of grains are black, white, tan, and gray
mixed with quartz grains, rose and amethyst.
poem by Elizabeth Bishop
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