109
a view of this place that i remember
the back space of this house
used to be a green ricefield
and there was that tall mango tree
where i used to sit underneath
shading me from the scourging sun
i always remember
the view
of the carabaos grazing
with white herons standing on their back
and blue cottony clouds drifting above
the place is now cemented
with a wall as high as three men added-up
high buildings rise from here
reaching the cottony clouds out there
and the river is no longer a hype
but a big silent hard steel pipe.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
A View Of This Place That I Remember
the back space of this house
used to be a green ricefield
and there was that tall mango tree
where i used to sit underneath
shading me from the scourging sun
i always remember
the view
of the carabaos grazing
with white herons standing on their back
and blue cottony clouds drifting above
the place is now cemented
with a wall as high as three men added-up
high buildings rise from here
reaching the cottony clouds out there
and the river is no longer a hype
but a big silent hard steel pipe.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Green Ricefields
green ricefields spreading to a distance
some white herons circling and landing finding a hiding place
for a while gone and then the wind comes from the trees swaying
the white herons in a flock of fives fly away again
to another rectangular spread of a green ricefield
a scarecrow stands in the middle of the place
the clouds arrive turning from pale to grey to blue
the sun has come in full grandeur
i am just amazed, sitting on a bench praying
simply watching and wondering
they all say that i am lazy and doing nothing
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Climb
Step by step
I've come closer to reaching the top
Every step must be placed so that I don't fall off
Looking down to see about how much higher I am
Another cool wind comes through and brushes my skin
The harder I push the tension does grow
I gather my thoughts the further and further I go
With some luck I just might keep on climbing
So better to climb than to face a fall
So high the climb
Can't turn back now
Must keep on climbing up to the clouds
So high the climb Can't turn back now
Must keep on climbing up to the clouds
Pulling myself up by a rope
I better my view
The only thing in sight is what I must do
As I turned I could see myself falling
Which in return save me strength for the climb
So high the climb
Can't turn back now
Must keep on climbing up to the clouds
So high the climb
Can't turn back now
Must keep on climbing up to the clouds
Although many failed I must now prevail with no question
Have no time to stop
Onward to the top of the mountain
And I can't turn back now
Its so very high but I can't turn back now
If I keep it up
song performed by by No Doubt from Tragic Kingdom
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
The Clouds Of Narcissus
the clouds of narcissus pass by today
along a clear pond by the side of a rice paddy
they stop to get a good glimpse of their faces and bodies
cottony white, shades of blue, pluffy, and soft
they stop and take a longer gaze, admiring every
beauty of its hands and fingers, a longer time
an island of grass some reeds and dry leaves
get curious about what is happening why the clouds
stop and made a longer stare over the clear reflection
of their bodies on the little pond. They talk. They are curious.
and then the clouds finally get done with what is usual.
they left. Slowly sail away from what they are seeing lovingly.
Nothing happens since then. They own no one.No one owns them.
They leave. They do not know how to love. Neither are they loved.
They are gone. The island of grass is silent. The reeds hush.
And the pond has become murky.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Existences
Fenced carabaos of this Agricultural college Thrive on limited spread of grass Man-made They look forward To angles and rows of green hills and valley And clear flowing creeks To the other side The white herons, (wild ducks, sparrows, and mayas)
Fly above trees and (daffodils) And land on paddies with flecks Of surface mud fishes and tadpoles and mosquito larvae
I see The sparrows rest In flocks Lining up On electric cables Or Power Lines Watching army Worms and golden shells (kuhol) etching slowly, eating green greedily On rice and grass stalks
An owl hovers (the late owl, where was it last night?) On the island of twigs On an old mango tree (balding & ugly & dying)
No wonder The white herons (about twenty in all, I counted them patiently on digital cam) taunt The carabaos (muddy and thin as grasses were cut and cleaned by ROTC cadettes on Sundays, I can’t rationalize why the grass population be reduced) fenced On a limited supply of Manmade grass and Growth controlled
They wing finally when I got near them Lightly like blown leaves
This February wind And land on Carabaos’ backs Gleaning for lice Feasting on some pecking and swallowing & pecking again
Thriving on carabaos’ Hairs and skin some creatures though still
On the other side of the landscape A thin brown, woman With a buri hat And a rattan basket on one hand and a sack on the other Leans over A dry ricefield Gleaning for leftovers of palay
Beside her but not that really near The man drives the white herons Away to the other side of the island of banana trunks
Then he goes to the carabaos Their wet noses tied to an abaca roof and tied again to the cemented posts of this accredited agricultural college spreading about two hectares of stupidity
The questions about lice and herons and carabaos and grasses
And golden snails, tadpoles and mud fishes and sparrows died
The lice are free Feeding away from The eating white herons
They have flown away since then to the other side of my world
By now the flock of Sparrows On the electric cables or power lines Wing their way To a farther town as I leave them fast for lack of time for shortness of serendipity for lack of interest
There are pebbles inside my shoes.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Giving the carabao feelings of wings
The carabaos are grazing again
It is summer and
The white herons are teeming
On the green fields
Some take the usual sight
Of friendship
The white heron on top
Of the carabao’s back
They are so close I wonder
If there is this familiarity
Between them
Their friendship has lasted
For centuries
They say the white herons
Feed on carabao's lice
And to repay the kindness
The carabao gives the bird
Its free ground ride
I disagree totally
There is no pecking that I see
And there is no distance
Whatsoever that the carabao gives
This is friendship, this is a picture
Of friendship, the heron is giving
The carabao the feel of its white wings.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Climb
Step by step I come closer to reaching the top
Every step must be placed so that I dont fall off
Looking down to see about how much higher I am
Another cool wind comes through, brushes my skin
The harder I pust the tension does grow
I gather my thoughts the further and further I go
With some luck I just might keep on climbing
So better to climb than to face a fall
So high the climb
Cant turn back now
Must keep climbing up to the clouds
So high the climb
Cant turn back now
Must keep climbing up to the clouds
Pulling myself up by a rop I better my view
The only thing in sight is what I must do
As I turned I could see myself falling
Which in teturn gave me strength for the climb
Chorus:
Although many failed
I must now prevail with no question
Have no time to stop
Onward to the top of the mountain
And I cant turn back now
Its so very high but I cant turn back now
If I keep it up, Im gonna make it
Im so very close cant you see
Chorus:
Im getting closer...
song performed by by Gwen Stefani
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
A Rural Scene
a line of carabaos grazing
on a newly harvested ricefield
behind an abandoned nipa hut
some wilted grass and dry leaves
shadows of hills and mountains
tall coconut trees and a footpath
two little boys holding each other's hands
bound for home on a late afternoon
sunset, red and orange, and then you
leave the place: your pain is subdued.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
It Really Never Was...
the day is getting darker
painting shadows on the wall
broken wings of blue skies
going for a moment
everything's now in the evening
with longings in the deep
and wishes still not happening
the winter
glasses with frosty roses
and perfect days in somberness
in the white weather
every thought
is now alone
reaching to the mountains
faraway
in silences of time
every hour
is cold and getting colder
with drifting clouds
in northern skies
that can't hold back
how do I not be alone
when times are like these
how do I not feel the blues
when the clouds surrounds me
with few landings
into summer thoughts
every hour
is cold and getting colder
with drifting clouds
in northern skies
that can't hold back
the winter
comes soft and sweet
with clean glisten thoughts
and snowflakes that never stop pouring...
when it gets cold outside
the winter
oh the winter
how fresh it can get
how cold it can get
it really never was...
full of romantic
it just has these surprises
in the weather
that can't hold back
the clouds that surrounds me
it really never was...
just the winter
it really never was...
just the winter
poem by Peter S. Quinn
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
* * *
a presence i always feel,
it disturbs me with the joy,
the joy, the sound which gives zeal,
of elevated thoughts, a sense of fusion
never understand whats its reason,
light of the coming sun
living air, birds' fun
a motion and a spirit that impels,
blue sky, white cottony clouds works as a spelt.......
Train
Writers: leo sayer & david courtney
Running through my life
Like a river, like a song
Train keeps pushing me
Right back to the place where I belong...
Back along the tracks
Fly a million years
Right across my path
Train moves on ringing in my ears...
Come on board
Come on board
Train, oh train, take me back, again
I remember, I remember, take me back
Train, oh train, the journey ends and starts again
I remember, I remember, I remember
Ive been up all night trying to get this down
Now Im hallucinating
Staring at the wall look what Im creating...
Look at the clock Im twelve hours old
So many more remain
Way up ahead I know I see a train...
Come on board
Come on board
Train, oh train, all those memories, all over again
I remember, I remember, take me back
Train, oh train, the journey ends and starts again
I remember, I remember, I remember
Waited on the station all day
Just to see a glimpse of the morning train
Just to see the wheels turning round
Blowing up steam,
See what I mean,
You see what I mean...
song performed by by Leo Sayer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Bacolod 2012
it is not planned
but just the same i went there
i've been there many times
bathed in its hot spring
felt the coldness of its trees
and scaled the vastness of its
fullness
i stood on top of a hill
felt the sun
ached my eyes for its mountains
wrote about its beauty
nothing extraordinary
in a final note it is not about its name
or history
not even about a place
or anyone
not about myself, it is indescribable
it cannot be said
it cannot be thought for long
because once you settle upon it
longer than you wish
it too is gone away
and when you step upon the stairs of another plane
you forget and try to remember another place
no, not another person
it is this travel of non-attachment at all
the bed that you sleep last night
is no longer a bed
the table cloth that you stained with the sap of
the luscious ripe mango fruit is no longer a cloth
you are on top of the world
on top of the white clouds that block all view
from the earth from all memories
and you keep saying now and writing each piece
piercing you and you do not mean anything
it is just the passing and the going and the non stopping
out of your mind out of this world
out of what dissipates like light in darkness
it is cold you cover your face with the blanket of
the plane
and then you cease
that is the story that you have written
it is intended for no one
now, not even for this earth
or the imagined heavens
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
It Was Good Then
I go back to my childhood
And images come flying at me
These water color memories
That have faded to a certain extent
With the passage of time
Fade no more
But become no brighter.
I remember things in
Sunshine yellows
And frosty blues
Minty greens
And lavender hues.
I remember smells.
Is it even possible to remember
Smell?
But, I swear I do.
Days had their own smell
Skin had its own smell
Sticky with sweat
From playing outside at high noon.
The grass, flowers, and air
Were scented.
By some far away perfume
Carried from place to place.
I remember the feel of grass
Between my bare toes.
I remember laughter.
I remember the gnarled trunk of
A tree under my hands and
Shoeless feet
When I climbed all the way to the top
And was not afraid to look or
Climb down.
I remember being a gypsy child
Going from place to place
Town to town
Without fear.
I remember making friends
I remember innocence..
I remember
Security,
Something I have forgotten since.
I remember
Childhood
Water color memories.
poem by Rabia Minhas
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Sonnets of home
I
I dream of building
a mansion, villa
or big white house
with a lot of space,
or maybe a Tuscan place
or two set on a terrace
on a mountain
with a wonderful view
overlooking the ocean
with a ivory white beach
that runs as far
as the eye can see
and to make it home
just for you and me
II
The birds will be our companions
and whales and dolphins
will pass in the bay
and a garden
as big as a park
will run all the way
down to the sea
and every plant and tree
that you like will be there
and vegetables will grow in patches
against the hill and there will be orchards
with juicy red, yellow and orange fruit
and plantations with big green pines
will cover the rest.
III
The house will be a white pillar
that towers like a castle above it all
and a place where any wary traveller
will be welcome to visit and rest
and there will be steps coming down
to the bay and a lift or two or three
next to an azure lagoon
where a cool river splashes down
in a big pronged waterfall
and we will be able
to lie in the bright sun
and run with the dogs
on the white beach
like children having fun.
IV
l’Envoi
Let others live in big crowded cities
and be packed into matchboxes
reaching up into the sky
and have more neighbours
than they care to know
but you and I
will be able to watch
blue waves twist and break
and hear the melody
of the rushing sea
and your studio and our home
will stretch from the hill
down to the aquamarine ocean
and touch the big sapphire sky.
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The End Of The Innocence
Remember when the days were long
And rolled beneath a deep blue sky
Didnt have a care in the world
With mommy and daddy standing by
When happily ever after fails
And weve been poisoned by these fairy tales
The lawyers dwell on small details
Since daddy had to fly
But I know a place where we can go
Thats still untouched by man
Well sit and watch the clouds roll by
And the tall grass wave in the wind
You can lay your head back on the ground
And let your hair fall all around me
Offer up your best defense
But this is the end
This is the end of the innocence
O beautiful, for spacious skies
But now those skies are threatening
Theyre beating plowshares into swords
For this tired old man that we elected king
Armchair warriors often fail
And weve been poisoned by these fairy tales
The lawyers clean up all details
Since daddy had to lie
But I know a place where we can go
And was away this sin
Well sit and watch the clouds roll by
And the tall grass wave in the wind
Just lay your head back on the ground
And let your hair spill all around me
Offer up your best defense
But this is the end
This is the end of the innocence
Who knows how long this will last
Now weve come so far, so fast
But, somewhere back there in the dust
That same small town in each of us
I need to remember this
So baby give me just one kiss
And let me take a long last look
Before we say good bye
Just lay your head back on the ground
And let your hair fall all around me
Offer up your best defense
But this is the end
This is the end of the innocence
song performed by by Don Henley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Remember
She sits in the dark, no more words to say,
Waiting for me to wipe her tears away
But Im too stubborn to see
That the problem was me
Cant admit that Im wrong
Now it seems to me that shes no longer here
And the love is gone
Its over now I heard her say
But I know I cant let my angel slip away
Gonna swallow my pride and hold it inside
cause I cant stand to see my baby cry
Take me back to the place where we first
Met, making love under the sunset, remember
Do you remember?
Take me back to the place where we first met
Vowed that our love we
Wont forget, do you remember, remember?
Im so sorry that things got out of hand
Sometimes I act like a child instead of a man
Remember that gleam in your eye, then I kissed
Your lips on that special night seemed like the
World had stopped for a moment in time
Its over now I heard her say
But I know I cant let my angel slip away
Gonna swallow my pride and hold it inside
cause I cant stand to see my baby cry
Take me back to the place where we first
Met, making love under the sunset, remember
Do you remember?
Take me back to the place where we first met
Vowed that our love we
Wont forget, do you remember, remember?
Close your eyes and hold me cause I need you
Please forgive me girl
Take me back to the place where we first
Met, making love under the sunset, remember
Do you remember?
Take me back to the place where we first met
Vowed that our love we
Wont forget, do you remember, remember?
song performed by by Youngstown
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
I Have Been Through The Gates
His heart to me, was a place of palaces and pinnacles and shining towers;
I saw it then as we see things in dreams,--I do not remember how long I slept;
I remember the tress, and the high, white walls, and how the sun was always on the
towers;
The walls are standing to-day, and the gates; I have been through the gates, I have
groped, I have crept
Back, back. There is dust in the streets, and blood; they are empty; darkness is over
them;
His heart is a place with the lights gone out, forsaken by great winds and the heavenly
rain, unclean and unswept,
Like the heart of the holy city, old blind, beautiful Jerusalem;
Over which Christ wept
poem by Charlotte Mary Mew
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
I Remember Once When I Was A Little Child
i remember
when i was a little child
i once climbed a tree
to take a look of those
down below me.
i simply sit there
and feast my eyes
on the tall mountain
far away from me.
i see a winding river
flowing to the sea.
i see memories.
i am a little child.
i am the father of
that sadness that
i left behind a rock.
i am the image of
that little boy
behind your face.
i am not noise.
i am the silence
of a very faraway
memory on that
cone mountain over
there with a snow
cap.I am my
small world like
a bird perched on
a twig. A small patch
of green grass. A handful
of clouds drifting on
my shoulder. I am
a silent memory.
I am listening inside
my little corner.
This heart still
of a little boy.
Always wondering.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Willie & Laura Mae Jones
(tony joe white)
Willie & laura mae jones
Were our neighbours a long time back
They lived right down the road from us
In a shack just like our shack
The people worked the land together
And we learned to count on each other
When you live off the land
You dont have the time to think about another mans colour
The cotton was high and the corn was growing fine
But that was another place and another time
Sit out on the front porch
In the evening when the sun went down
Willie would play and the kids would sing
And everybody would mess around
Daddyd bring out his guitar
And play on through the night
Every now and then ol willie would grin and say
Hey, you play all right
Made me feel so good
I remember the best times of all
When saturday came around
We all would stop by willies house and say
Do yall need anything from town?
Hed say no, but why dont yall stop on the way back through?
And Ill get laura mae, yeah, to cook up some barbecue
And you know thats good
The cotton was high and the corn was growing fine, yes it was
But that was another place and another time
Oh, the years rolled past the land
And took back what theyd given
We all knew we had to move
If we were gonna make a living
So we all moved off
And went about our separate ways
It sure was hard to say goodbye
To willie and laura mae (jones), oh yeah
The cotton was high and the corn was growing fine, yes it was
But that was another place and another time
I remember so well
The cotton looked so fine
But that was another place and another time
And it felt so good, yes it did
song performed by by Dusty Springfield
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
It's A Promise
When I get up in the morning and see first light
I remember it's a promise
When the sun begins to set with color
I remember it's a promise
When I stare up in the darkest night, and see brightest moonlight
I remember it's a promise
When a ray of light slices the clouds and it's pure
I remember it's a promise
When I see the majestic forest of green tree
I remember it's a promise
When I see the blue ocean
I remember it's a promise
When I see the sparkle of a star or the shining of the sun
I remember it's a promise
If I look into the stars and see a galaxy
I remember it's a promise
Somehow everything will be fine like the world around me
Because in everything there's a promise
And when a promise is bound by unfailing love
It can't be broken
That's a promise.
poem by David Knox
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!