1: 55 A.m.
the cicadas still sing
that early
in this small town and
everyone is
in fact everything is
so quite that if you
are awake at this hour
unholy as they call it
(but so holy to me
i think)
i can still hear
the voice wanting
to be spoken
deep inside the
linings of my
esophagus
there is this mummy
of the sarcophagus
wanting to be
reborn
honestly the name
still slips
in my tongue
perhaps this could
be the poem
about cicadas
and their songs
or the sound of
quiet
the murmur
of peace
long gone
now
trembling at the
tip of my lips
who knows?
if at a little stare
on the wall
soon i shall understand
and decipher
what slime is there
that wants to speak
inside my
throat
but still wanting to
be swallowed
honestly
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Related quotes
Honestly
This poem is dedicated to Kimberly Ashley Evans.♥
Honestly I know I love you
Honestly I hope you know thats true
Honestly you are the one
Honestly I hope we are never done
Honestly your my life
Honestly I hope you will be my wife
Honestly I know Im yours
Honestly I hope you dont open any other doors
Honestly your mine
Honestly I hope that is fine
Honestly you are so pretty
Honestly I hope you know that Kimi
Honestly do you know what to do?
Honestly I hope you have a clue
Honestly will you marry me?
Honestly I hope you know I wont deceive
Honestly without you I would die
Honestly that is not a lie
Honestly do you know what I see?
Honestly I see someone that deserves glee
Honestly you are amazing
Honestly you are my craving
Honestly God loves you
Honestly I cant blame him because I do too
Honestly your always right
Honestly I hope your always in my sight
Honestly lets spend out lives together
Honestly Forever
poem by Bryan Hammond
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Wanting Out
I turned around
and there you were
standing in front of me
i can't ignore
the fact that you were back for more
It's kind of funny when you think about it
It's kind of hard to agree to disagree
now we're back to the start
no buts, no buts
but you want me back
so take me away
'cause I don't wanna be found
I should learn to speak up
When enough is enough
and I'm wanting out
and I'm wanting out
I saw you smiling in that photograph
and I remember how we used to laugh
but that was then
forgive and forget
that was easiest
so take me away
'cause I don't wanna be found
I should learn to speak up
When enough is enough
and I'm wanting out
and I'm wanting out------
ohhh
dadadadada dadada ohhh
And I don't know if I can get through this
and I never knew that before
you make up your mind
and suddenly find you're wanting more
so take me away
'cause I don't wanna be found
I should learn to speak up
When enough is enough
ohh
and I'm wanting out
and I'm wanting out
so take me away
'cause I don't wanna be found
I should learn to speak up
When enough is enough
ohh
and I'm wanting out
ohh
and I'm wanting out
and I'm wanting out
and I'm wanting out
and I'm wanting out
song performed by by Michelle Branch
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Dread the Silence
I need noise when I’m awake
I dread the silence when I am not asleep
It’s either pounding my eardrums with songs, music or any mp3s
or razzing it to an audio book or MTVs
Noise has been a means to cover up the reality
I dread the silence for it prods a cognizance that I’m alone despite the crowd.
I dread the silence fearing that I wake up from my self-created imaginary world
I dread the silence for fear that it made me question about my existence
I dread the silence fearing that I will hear the inner voice
clamoring and wanting to escape from this dragging circumstances
That still small voice which prefers peace
that still small voice wanting to get away from this kind of place.
that still small voice, crying from this senseless pace.
that still small voice, wanting a break from this pointless race.
poem by Champs Ulysses Cabinatan
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All Of This
With all of this I know now
Everything inside of my head
It all just goes to show how
Nothing I know changes me at all
Again I wait for this to change instead
To tear the world in two
Another night with her
But I'm always wanting you
Use me Holly come on and use me
We know where we go
Use me Holly come on and use me
We go where we know
With all of this I feel now
Everything inside of my heart
It all just seems to be how
Nothing I feel pulls at me at all
Again I wait for this to pull apart
To break my time in two
Another night with her
But I'm always wanting you
Use me Holly come on and use me
We know where we go
Use me Holly come on and use me
We go where we know
She's all I need
She's all I dream
She's all I'm always wanting
She's all I need
She's all I dream
She's all:
I'm always wanting you
Yeah I'm always wanting you
I'm always wanting you
Use me Holly come on and use me
We know where we go
Use me Holly come on and use me
We go where we know
She's all I need
She's all I dream
She's all I'm always wanting
She's all I need
She's all I dream
She's all:
I'm always wanting you
Yeah I'm always wanting you
I'm always wanting you
>At all again I wait for this
>To feel the home
>To shake the sky in two
Another night with her
But I'm always wanting you
Another night with her
But I'm always wanting you
song performed by by Blink 182
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Wanting To Be Near You
Wanting to be near you.
Wanting to be near you,
Once again.
Baby.
And wanting you to know,
I am your friend...
Until the end.
Somedays I feel defeat.
And this shows.
Somedays I'm not as strong...
Or comfortable.
I can be weak in mind.
And from time to time...
I am needing more from you!
You're deep within my heart.
This you should know.
Right from the very start,
We were one.
And if I've said or done,
Something you can't forgive.
Please tell me then and there!
Make me be aware,
Instantly!
Baby.
I'm wanting to be near you!
Wanting to be near you,
Once again.
'Til the end.
And wanting you to know,
I am your friend...
With no one and nothing,
In between!
Wanting to be near you.
Wanting to be near you,
Once again.
Baby.
And wanting you to know,
I am your friend...
Until the end,
Of time!
I am wanting to be near you.
Come what may.
Everyday...
We live.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Holly Holy
Holly holy eyes
Dream of only you
Well I am what I am,
What I believe in
Holly holy
Holly holy dreams
Wanting only you
Yes she comes
And I run just like the wind will
Holly holy
Sing, sing a song
Sing, sing a song of songs
Sing, sing it out loud
Well sing a song
Let me hear you say, yeah, yeah - yeah
Call the sun in the dead of the night
And the sun will rise in the sky
Touch a man who cant walk upright
And the lame man, will be alright
And I fly
And I fly
Holly holy eyes
Wanting only you
And I see, will it be for everyone
Holly holy
song performed by by Ub40
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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We Are Converging
Wanting to be heard.
Wanting to be valued.
Wanting to be acknowledged.
Wanting to sustain a way of life...
Fading.
To emerge once again and surge.
Wanting to be admired.
Wanting most to be thought as best!
Wanting to imprint an impression...
That conflicts and unrest,
Did not from them initiate...
The perpetuating of protests.
Nor did the rise of destruction, fear and insecurities...
Leave this world in a chaotic mess.
We are converging!
And peace...
Will be the final test.
Many want.
Many wish.
Many hope to fill all hearts with love.
Instead of a digressive emptiness.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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So You Feel You Do Not Like To Work
something stopped when you said it
could be the clock of my life
or the chimes of some bells
in my fingers
when you said your lines, that you do not like to work
because the haiku
and the tanka are all there like children
waiting to play with you
they want to be written
by nobody but you, just you, like some animated kites
wanting to fly from the strings of your hands
now having air and tails
i feel the same, i see this river bed drying and i am like a dam
filled with water wanting to burst and flood
the earth
with poems
i am this cracking lips and inside is my tongue wet
so wet with this fluid
wanting to spit what i have inside me
but i am not that true
to this calling
the dam is fortified
and my flood did not happen
and my tongue likes to sleep
tired and so afraid
swallowing everything
and so
nothing revolutionary really happens
time can wait,
i need sleep, i need to eat, and i need a little rest and
silence tonight again
with the uncomplaining stars
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Guilty
Guilty: For wanting you;
For wanting to touch your cheek;
For wanting to stroke your hair;
For wanting to let your voice wash over me;
Guilty: Of feeling the way I do;
Of dreaming of you;
Of day-dreaming of you;
Of falling in love with you;
Of wanting you for myself.
RG/RR
poem by Robert Green
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Up Inside My Head
I want to love you,
Like...
Corn on the cobb just dripping with butter.
I do.
I want to love you,
Like...
A slice of pound cake and icecream.
But...
I'm feeling like I'm floating in a boat,
Without a rudder.
And...
I'm wanting to scream,
Help me.
Help.
And I'm wanting to scream...
Help me.
And I'm wanting to scream...
Help me.
Help.
And I'm wanting to scream...
Help me.
I want to love you,
Like...
Saugage, eggs and pancakes.
With powered sugar mixed with cinnamon.
I want to love you,
Like...
The maple syrup I pour to spread.
But...
I don't want you that close to be next to me,
Inside my head.
No!
I want to love you,
But...
I don't want you that close to be next to me,
Up inside my head.
No!
I want to love you,
But...
I don't want you that close,
Squeezing next to me...
And,
Up inside my head.
No!
Up inside my head.
No!
Up inside my head.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Well, you have the public not wanting any new spending, you have the Republicans not wanting any new taxes, you have the Democrats not wanting any new spending cuts, you have the markets not wanting any new borrowing, and you have the economists wanting all of the above. And that leads to paralysis.
quote by Michael Bloomberg
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I don't know that I ever wanted greatness, on its own. It seems rather like wanting to be an engineer, rather than wanting to design something--or wanting to be a writer, rather than wanting to write. It should be a by-product, not a thing in itself. Otherwise, it's just an ego trip.
quote by Roger Zelazny
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Two Voices
Two voices I hear inside my head,
Both wanting their own way.
I must figure out, which voice must go,
And which I allow to stay.
One is the voice of my spirit,
The other of my mind.
One will move me farther ahead.
One will pull be further behind.
But I do not know, which voice is which,
And which voice has my best.
In order to know, which voice is true.
I put both voices to the test.
With one voice I know peace and love,
Are the rewards that I will find.
And the one that creates confusion and fear.
That is the voice inside my mind.
poem by Ryan Lee Morris
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The Place Of My Dreams
Nobody ever walked this path before
-before trees grew here nearly touching the sky,
I am alone safely inside a world of my own-
A world where only deer roam and birds fly about-
Cardinals, robins and sometimes
I believed I saw angels-
Angels singing in harmony with bird songs-
The wind would rustle the leaves upon the trees and
In the early summertime, cicadas would sing incessantly-
Incessantly and melodiously-
Only one day I heard a different sound-
The sounds of footsteps and children screaming,
Following closely behind me-
I would hide behind a tall oak tree and I would almost weep as
My solitude has been interrupted and
I am no longer safe as my private world had been invaded-
Nobody ever walked this path before until this day and
My dream has been transformed to a nightmare-
I am not safe in a world destroyed by the presence of strangers-
Cardinals, robins and cicadas are my friends and
Other people are my enemies whom I do not trust-
Following in my footsteps and trying to make eye contact,
To read the verses of the songs my mind composes?
I know I have seen angels and heard them singing, and
Birds chanting along with the gentle winds
Rustling the leaves upon the trees-
But now other people have discovered the path,
upon which I have walked alone,
And my secure space has become a public tenement-
I once believed nobody ever walked this path before,
This path to which I could escape reality and lose myself inside
The magnificent world of my delusions-now they have come to take me away and
To lock me inside this prison which I cannot escape?
I cannot hear the angels singing here and birds are seemingly far away-
Here I have lost myself inside my own world,
one so different and so frightening?
There are people here, so close to me, yet I feel so alone-
Although alone in a dangerous way- I am singing my own song,
Hoping that the angels can hear me and one day I shall be back in unison with nature,
Far away from intruders and singing in harmony with nightingales –
And once again, alone safely,
as I shall have abandoned the nightmare of reality,
Touching the sky in my dreams, dancing with angels as I listen to the cicadas chanting
Happily as they are lost inside the world of their fantasies, just as I wish to be…
poem by Claudia Krizay
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0029 This night, this night of endless miracle
On this Mediterranean night with its light breeze
scented with the sun-warmed herbs
drifting down from cooling, stony hills,
a million stars you’ve never seen before
shine on a million crickets singing
as if from eternity to eternity
and you cannot say, and there’s
no need to say, which is which;
the trembling of the stars,
the susurration of cicadas,
join as in endless praise
of the imagination of their maker
who made imagination too
and though the cicadas, singing, may never know
that the stars they sing to
are shining from a thousand years ago
and though the stars may never know
that the cicadas that they shine upon
are a thousand years here from their now,
it’s all known, to the mind that made the vines
that made the grapes that made the wine
singing in my veins tonight
like cicadas susurrating in the starlight
as you hear them now
this night, this night of endless miracle
poem by Michael Shepherd
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The Long Tunnel of Wanting You
This is the long tunnel of wanting you.
Its walls are lined with remembered kisses
wet & red as the inside of your mouth,
full & juicy as your probing tongue,
warm as your belly against mine,
deep as your navel leading home,
soft as your sleeping cock beginning to stir,
tight as your legs wrapped around mine,
straight as your toes pointing toward the bed
as you roll over & thrust your hardness
into the long tunnel of my wanting,
seeding it with dreams & unbearable hope,
making memories of the future,
straightening out my crooked past,
teaching me to live in the present present tense
with the past perfect and the uncertain future
suddenly certain for certain
in the long tunnel of my old wanting
which before always had an ending
but now begins & begins again
with you, with you, with you.
poem by Erica Jong
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3: 33 A.m.
i waited for this moment
and it has come, this awakening,
of your mind, you and i, still waking up,
when the rest of the world
is sleeping, this is the moment,
i will seize it,
like the way the chameleon
strikes the approaching fly
with its tongue
you ask me, 'are you still awake, sir? '
and i answer, ' yes, i slept early last night'
on the surface of things
there is this shallowness in our casualness
you only see my shirt and notice the particulars
at first glance: color, shape, the sound of my voice,
the posture of the person
against the window
amidst the morning light
how can we trap the inner cravings?
what about me? and what about you?
the reason why thoughts wake up
because they have been unsaid
wanting to breathe
and be in the open
surely, i still have many words to say
and to keep
to write them, like opening a bottle of champagne
removing the cork finally
and you will be trembling with the sound
of popping out of letting go
what was trapped so beautifully inside
the bottle
but it will only be for a while
soon you will taste the flavor
of the sparkle and i hope you wil soon like it
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Something in me does not rest
Perhaps it is my soul
It is restless It is up to something else
Something more important than what I am doing now
It is wriggling. It is conscious of something.
To come.
It is up for something greater than everyday.
I do not know.
I really do not know. It is not speaking to me.
It is like an egg. It is the shell and transparent
Something alive is wriggling wanting to be born.
I am wanting to be reborn. I am not speaking to myself.
It is delicate. It is perhaps something holy.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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I Have The Touch
The time I like is the rush hour, cos I like the rush
The pushing of the people - I like it all so much
Such a mass of motion - do not know where it goes
I move with the movement and ... I have the touch
Im waiting for ignition, Im looking for a spark
Any chance collision and I light up in the dark
There you stand before me, all that fur and all that hair
Oh, do I dare ... I have the touch
Wanting contact
Im wanting contact
Im wanting contact with you
Shake those hands, shake those hands
Give me the thing I understand
Shake those hands, shake those hands
Shake those hands, shake those hands
Any social occasion, its hello, how do you do
All those introductions, I never miss my cue
So before a question, so before a doubt
My hand moves out and ... I have the touch
Wanting contact
Im wanting contact
Im wanting contact with you
Shake those hands, shake those hands
Give me the thing I understand
Shake those hands, shake those hands
Pull my chin, stroke my hair, scratch my nose, hug my knees
Try drink, food, cigarette, tension will not ease
I tap my fingers, fold my arms, breathe in deep, cross my legs
Shrug my shoulders, stretch my back - but nothing seems
To please
I need contact
I need contact
Nothing seems to please
I need contact
song performed by by Peter Gabriel
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Ideas Shall Always Be Coming...
for as long as the roses have thorns
as long as the fish bone is in the throat
butterflies inside the belly
worms under the feet
flies inside the bottle sealed
still wanting to breathe and still crazy
over life
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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