Definition You Know
cat is table
fish is book
i is car
school is cemetry
nothing is a cup
meaning is a woman
Related quotes
Confused
i was walking
along a busy road
of this village
where the sound of
squeaking bikes
abound, and
this old woman
carrying a basket of
fish
stared at me, i
was carrying a book
and an umbrella
it was sunny and
the old woman
stared at me, perhaps
i guess, he must
have missed his son,
perhaps his son
stopped schooling
enlisted himself as
a soldier
because there is no
more money
to spend
for his tuition in
school....
perhaps, his
son died in
combat, and perhaps
his son once had
a book.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Marc Greets Things in the Morning
Hi boy with the bike on the vase on the bloom
ploom ploom
hi chair by the table
hi bread on the table
hi fisher-of-fish with the pipe
and
hi fisher-of -fish with cap
cap and pipe
of the fisher-of-fish
H i i i —i fish
hi little fish
hi tiny fishy-fine of mine
poem by Paul van Ostaijen
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My Current Vision
My school book lies the furthest
Facing me
Completely guilty
I dislike school
school gives me no comfort
Except when leaving
Still I feel guilt
I did not put my full effort forward
The book remains closed
And
The water bottle in front stands out as the school binder presents
With a grey background
I see my poetry journal assignments paper being gently held down but the water bottle with the very corner of it's circle
My iPod cord appearing from under the assignment connects one end to the iPod and another into the computer
The rollercoaster of wires circle around my grinder with a pattern
It would be fun to ride that
My computer is centered
On but unused
Only charging my iPod
I see half a cigarette on the table
Facing away
Completely unappealing
I'll still probably smoke it
I see a bag of weed on the table covering my empty wallet
The wallet looks
Cozy
I see the remnant of my previous high in an ashtray
Now just dust
With a bright blue lighter at the end
I rhyme because I must
poem by ryan Cravatta
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A Dream I Have To Write
A dream
I have to write
On the wooden slate
Of a child
Playing traunt from the school.
A moon
I have to write
On the forehead
Of a woman
Swarthier than evetide darkness.
A song
I have to write
On the frozen lips
of the wind
Passing through
A bamboo forest.
A name
I have to write
On an unmarked
Grave stone
In a memorial cemetry.
(Translated from Urdu to English by Dr. Satyapal Anand and from English to Spanish by Dr. Teresinka Pereira)
poem by Naseer Ahmed Nasir
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Cemetery Gates
A dreaded sunny day
so I meet you at the cemetry gates
Keats and Yeats are on your side
A dreaded sunny day
so I meet you at the cemetry gates
Keats and Yeats are on your side
while Wilde is on mine
So we go inside and we gravely read the stones
all those people all those lives
where are they now ?
with loves, and hates
and passions just like mine
they were born
and then they lived and then they died
which seems so unfair
and I wantr to crv
You say: "ere thrice the sun hath done salutation to the dawn"
and you claim these words as your own
but Im well-read, have heard them said
a hundred times (maybe less, maybe more)
if you must write prose/poems
the words you use should be your own
dont plagiarise or take "on loans"
there's alweays someone, somewhere
with a big nose, who knows
and who trips you up and laughs
when you fall
You say: "ere long done do does did "
words which could only be your own
you then produce the text
from whence was ripped
(some dizzy whore, 1804)
A dreaded sunny day
so let's go where we're happy
so I meet you at the cemetry gates
Keats and Yeats are on your side
A dreaded sunny day
so let's go where we're wanted
so I meet you at the cemetry gates
Keats and Yeats are on your side
but you lose
because Wilde is on mine
song performed by by Smiths
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Cemetry Gates
A dreaded sunny day
I meet you at the cemetry gates
Keats and yeats are on your side
A dreaded sunny day
So i meet you at the cemetry gates
Keats and yeats are on your side
While wilde is on mine
So we go inside and we gravely read the stones
All those people all those lives
Where are they now ?
With loves, with hates
With passions just like mine
They were born
And then they lived
And then they died
It seems so unfair
Oh, i want to cry
You say : "'ere thrice the sun done salutation to the dawn"
And you claim these words as your own
But i've read well, and i've heard them said
A hundred times (maybe less, maybe more)
If you must write prose and poems
The word you use should be your own
Don't plagiarise or take "on loan"
There's always someone, somewhere
With a big nose, who knows
And trips you up and laughs
When you fall
Who'll trip you up and laugh
When you fall
You say : "long done do does did"
Words which could only be your own
And then produce the text
From whence was ripped
(some dizzy whore, 1804)
A dreaded sunny day
So let's go where we're happy
And i meet you at the cemetry gates
Oh, keats and yeats are on your side
A dreaded sunny day
So let's go where we're wanted
And i meet you at the cemetry gates
Keats and yeats are on your side
But you lose
'cause weird lover wilde is on mine
Sure !
song performed by by Smiths
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Fish the Fish
fish makes every fish catch, the tail that
smell like fish as the angler bait its fishing
rod bit each heart beat, the triumphant
heart break its brake the nylon cord that
hold the hook that synchronize the timing
swings of each hand lifting as it goes
catching the net as it swing in the thread
that fishes the fish
strength hold on, tie so quick on, leave no
loose every cost is to repulse, time is
sweeten in the fish in the table all are
refresh, every fisherman switch the light in
the kitchen the kittle, the cool plate and the
fire is burning on
sweet smells like a baby, in every nose so
shiny, in every dinning table everybody is
happy ready to take like party, now all
hands should hold, and bring every magical
strength enfold, the fish is in the running
water waiting for us to carry in every heart,
please prepare the place, the net is
empty …… come and fish the fish
poem by Antonio Liao
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Woman In Black
I knew the moment
I walked through that door
I felt so close to a burning sensation
It got so warm
As I moved across the floor
My body aching with anticipation
I saw a dark silhouette, at the table
I tried to talk, but I was unable
She drew me in right under her spell
I was hypnotized by the sudden temptation
Of that woman in black, shes a mystery
Shes everything a woman should be
Woman in black, shes got a hold on me
Shes in control, she wont set me free
She is a woman
Shes not a girl anymore
The kind that stirs up a young mans imagination
Shes dressed to kill
And Im so ready to fall
Into her world full of strange fascination
I see that dark silhouette, at the table
I cant resist, my bodys not able
She draws me in, but she teaches me well
I never need any explanation
From that woman in black, shes a mystery
Shes everything a woman should be
I said, woman in black, got a hold on me
Shes in control, she wont set me free
Ooh, woman in black
Its too late now
I cant turn back
cause Im a fool for that woman
Woman in black
Ooh, ooh, woman in black
Ooh, that woman in black, shes a mystery
Shes everything a woman should be
That woman in black, shes got a hold on me
Shes in control, she wont set me free
Shes my mysterious mistress
But she leaves me so helpless
My woman in black
Shes a dark senorita
My woman in black
No sunday school teacher
My woman in black
Were keeping it a secret
We meet in the night
Were partners in silence
Strangers in daylight
song performed by by Foreigner
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Loneliness Of A Fisherman Of Ideas....
you fish at night
the moon is fading
it is when the night
is so dark
that you see the realities
of fish
squids having neon lights
around its body
a school of fish
appears like a diamond
city
you fish alone
in the deepest part of the ocean
where all the stars
have all gone into hiding
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Now, to describe the process of the Wrapped Reichstag, which went from 1971 to '95, there is an entire book about that, because each one of our projects has its own book. The book is not an art book, meaning it's not written by an art historian.
Fish vs. Humans
The fish swim in the coral
and we get stuck in school
Some fish are trapped forever in the aquarium inside the tanks
Some people are trapped by wrongdoings, and are put in prison instead of spanked
Fish swim in schools that look similar to them
Teenagers stay in clicks that I'm sure will never end
Sometimes I go to the aquarium and I admire all the fish
I wonder how many times fish think 'to be a human is all I wish'
poem by Rebecca Bell
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Kitana My Daughter’s Cat
Kitana my daughter’s tomcat
Goes to school to practise to play
His new-tamed paws will march in a house
Rather than mow down a mouse
All day long he will twist his tongue
To chitchat with the Queen’s blue tongue
The rats and mice will sway their tails
With Kitana so hot on their trail
The teacher once voted a verse
But Kitana reversed for a dash
In a window had sat a rat
An offence to my daughter’s cat
He went for the hind of his find
The kind that satisfied his mind
He had gone to school on a fast
But now had a find for breakfast
Kitana Kitana they yelled
As children and teacher beheld
A bully had come to their school
And had no regard for the rules
Kitana was thrown out of school
For conduct that questioned the rules
So he went to court with his tail
To win back his name from their tale
The lady judge sat on dried rat
With table well made from dried fish
Vermin skin veiled all the windows
For fear of the street in shadows
Kitana your case you may state
The judge in her seat did dictate
Kitana licked his paws from the dock
In a bid to defend his frock
Kitana spoke in Queen’s blue tongue
Though hungry he stood there for long
He told of the degradation
The teacher had made his portion
The judge adjourned for five minutes
In which time her table diminished
Kitana with table in mouth
Disappeared from court without doubt
He never returned to the school
He never returned to be ruled
The judge so surprised did not fight
With case and table out of sight
Kitana was no more in sight
Not in school nor on dock nor on site
But Police dogged him with their dog
That never returned from the dream
poem by Moses Kainwo
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Some things that can happen with a fish
A fish that drinks like a fish, that is a fish in excess
A fish that fishes in troubled waters, that is a fish taking advantage of another fish in trouble
A fish that fishes or cuts bait, well, to be or not to be, to retreat or to attack, that is the fishy question
A fish that is neither fish nor fowl, is a fish that is neither one nor the other, lacking some convictions
A fish out of water, is a fish feeling left out, no longer in his accustomed environment
Do you have other fish to fry for now?
Is there other matter requiring my attention?
Poor fish,
the lake is finally fished out from his fishy mind.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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31
A fish that drinks like a fish, that is a fish in excess
A fish that fishes in troubled waters, that is a fish taking advantage of another fish in trouble
A fish that fishes or cuts bait, well, to be or not to be, to retreat or to attack, that is the fishy question
A fish that is neither fish nor fowl, is a fish that is neither one nor the other, lacking some convictions
A fish out of water, is a fish feeling left out, no longer in his accustomed environment
Do you have other fish to fry for now?
Is there other matter requiring my attention?
Poor fish,
the lake is finally fished out from his fishy mind.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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A Fish Story
If I were a fish in the ocean
I'm sure I'd have the notion
to swim alone in the great big sea,
not bunched up in a school, not free.
I'd swim the Atlantic,
the Pacific too
and when I tired
before I was through
I'd beach myself and lie on the shore,
happy and content with all I explore.
But this a a fish dream
for a fishy fool.
For see how I'm swimming.
I'm in a school.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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Everything Has Meaning
the floor give meaning to the ceiling
the shore to the sea
the moon to the night sky
the sun to the earth
and man in between and woman
around the arms of man
and the dog amidst them
there is meaning to everything
and to everyone, and the important conclusion is inevitable
there is meaning in you.
decorate this meaning with a smile.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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If you loved me, you would rejoice
life to life with you
arm to arm and mind indulging
with the mind
what is it that bothers us?
a bird without wings?
a horse without hoofs?
a man without eyes?
an old woman without a
burial site? a coffin unfinished?
a poem unsigned?
unfinished business
defective structures like
house without pillars
trains without tracks
cocoons without leaves
words without meaning
a poem without a definite ending
a page without a margin
a dog without an ear
a fish not in school
there are sighs unsifted
love unrequited
And now I have told you this
before it happens....
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Part 2 Teaching me the times table
Teaching me the times table. Going to school. To see the teachers. And how I was doing in school. For doing everything you could to help me prepare for school. But your tried to make it easy. There just aren't enough words to tell you how I am feeling. written 2/26/08 Posted 2/26/08
poem by Susie Sunshine
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Amen, Amen...
for the few grains of rice that i have given you
and for the slice of fish,
God has given me more than what
i have parted,
God has given me a house, a rice granary,
a thousand loaves of bread,
an ocean of fish
plus a book of poems,
plus the nightingale songs
My heart sings praises for Him.
For every grain of rice that i have shared with a hungry neighbor,
God has replenished me with truckloads.
FOR THE FEW cents that i have given as fare for the old woman
who wishes to go home,
God has repaid me money in bundles.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Our Ever Thirsting Ignorance....
one does not go out into the open fields
to carry a book
read and pour upon all interests
in a picture
of birds and trees and
lakes,
one goes out into the open to watch a flock of birds,
homing
to a tall leafy tree
and hearing them all chirp
or sing
one goes into the sea to sail a boat
fish,
or swim and see the colors of the corals
or feel a school of
rainbow fishes
one finally leaves the book to its place
between the shelves
out there into the open fields
lies the unending pages of days, the lessons that no word
or groups of words
can ever trap,
for real knowledge like fish in the ocean
like whales
so huge, and slimy
always escape from our grasp leaving us the sound
that till today
shall mesmerize us
in the continual mysteries of
our thirsting
ignorance
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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