2: 25 P.M. Roxas
there are things that do not jibe
round peg to a square hole for instance
birds that dive and fly in the belly of the sea
or fish that swim in the molten lava of the earth
us, for instance, is another thing
we have ceased to be human tired of the power of words in our lips
we should have kissed as often as we signify a love that does not change
but, we are some of these things that do not jibe at last
our dances have become awkward
people are watching and they just couldn't say it honestly that we have to stop
us, scarecrows
not scared but powerless over the vultures that feed on our flesh
over those birds that steal the grains of our youth
over time that is too cruel
us, feeding upon us,
about to puke.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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If You Look For A Rhyme, So Sorry I Don't Have It
i don't jam and i don't rhyme
my life does not rhyme
and some parts simply
do not fit
until now
like a dovetail
of wooden pieces
to make
your chair
so sorry but i don't have
rhyme
it is the truth
it is the truth of this world
some things do not fit
some people do not just fit
square pegs in a round hole
square lives in a round dimension
it is the truth of this world
fingers in the hands
toes in your feet
look at them as a family of your
unique body
i like to rhyme i like to jibe with you
and sing the harmony of
our song
the truth is
there isn't
and so my dear, let us look at each other's eyes
again
can you do it without blinking?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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I Simply Like The Word Roost
and its variations,
refer to the latest poem i wrote on the word
ensconce, it is roost that you use, which signifies
about chickens
but honestly i prefer the pegions
which we had
once in my youth
the boy who chased and hit birds
feeding on our rice
drying under the sun
and i did not know what i did
stoning birds and killing them
not really thinking
that they would be happier
and nicer to see
when they are alive
and flying and feeding
on the pavements where
rice is abundant and
it woudl have been more
memorable if i feed
them myself
with rice on my palms
which i never really did
because in my place
a boy is a boy and he must
hit the birds with stones
from his slingshot
until i have seen real birds
and real people shot
and killed on the fields
like birds but
with real ammunitions
from government armalites
and brothers
killing brothers
which really bothers
me a lot
until now
when finally i get tired of thinking
when i simply write
poems and poems, not judgments
not commands, just feelings
like hot and cold, fever and the coldness
of death
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Molten or metallic marvels
I really truly don't know why
some things under the sun and sky
attract and catch my fancy
Quite queerly they happen to be
hot melting smelting solids
that melt into exquisite liquids.
Take for instance heated liquid gold
molten glass or molten brass
and to watch magma 'neath the earth's fold
Ooh I love just about any melting mass.
With similar bizarre ecstasy and fascination
do I always watch onscreen molten lava
Gliding in serpentine turns, oblivious of my admiration
Ah, I just love all that golden molten mass
Sometimes I even have such an eccentric craving
to watch just any solid beauty melting smelting
that I satisfy this craving by simply imagining
the honey to be some liquid fire gold
in a crystal clear jar and liken it to
a metallic gold syrup in the furnace burning
As if it were stagnant mini-lava
right before me glowing!
As for other mesmeric things
that I find real eye-catching
are those which everybody else finds ravishing.
And they are in all shine
dazzling diamond dust
Magical celestial stardust
Glittery terrestrial gold dust
in mankind's metallic materialistic lust.!
But I, I am allergic to dust. ;)
poem by S.zaynub Kamoonpuri
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My cousins actions
Hurting other people what are the reasons for it?
Since seasons change, shouldn’t we in that instance,
Minimize the hurt, print on t-shirts, how we can change…
Shouldn’t we give it a chance instead of giving into pretence?
It’s not a life sentence, for us to change who we are into what we can be in an instance…
Become the inverse of who we are.
And before the universe begins a new era,
It should find us human, Everyman with a Woman…
poem by Thato Maluleka
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The Analogous
everything has
an analogy
for instance these hands
with fingers
are they not rivers and creeks
a source and
tributaries?
for instance this body
this temple
where my soul rests
this eye
this window of the house
the sun
the eye of the earth
a friend of the stars
the wonders of our longings
for instance
the silence
a dash in our talk
a space of our doubts
many more
for instance you and me
two hands in prayer
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Square Peg, Round Hole
He's a square peg in a round hole
Misfit in a slick world
Don't play the game
Don't do what he's told
He's a square peg in a round hole
Square peg don't care
The bright lights he's not there
Catch the shadows see him slip away
Square peg that's what they say
Square peg, Suare peg
Square peg, you have got to be strong
Square peg, he's got his own song
Square peg, I'll see you around
Square peg, face down
Square peg, round hole
song performed by by Chris Rea
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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031010 Food Power
i reach the bottom of fish tank
to touch the bottom dweller
stuck to a rock like suction cup
she let me caress her as if she
know me, she's grown a bit
since i bought her at pet shop
this black big head fish i love
she doesn't move that much
i watch her gills close and open
she is always watching me
sometimes i saw her swim
just to get away from other fish
i used to tap the fish tank cover
before feeding them, amazing
every time i tap, they surface
how's that for teaching a fish
food is really powerful thing
just me i can't stop eating
poem by Manonton Dalan
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I Feed The Birds and Play With Them
I was tired and exhausted
I felt as if
There is nothing in the world
Except work
I went to the nearby garden
Saw an old man
Feeding the birds with seeds
He smiled when a bird
Came near him
Picked one seed
He Laughed
When another came
Picked another seed
I did not understand
His smiling and laughing
I asked him
Why he was so happy?
He replied in measured words
Everybody works
To feed himself
When you feed others
It makes you happy
You have satisfaction
Of living for others
I feel fresh
And without stress
I understood
What he mean't
Feeding the birds
And playing with them
Has now become
My usual routine
poem by Nirantar Dr.Rajendra Tela
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Lava Lamp
In the half light of the evening
I could almost see you glow, I can tell by the way you're moving,
Time may be right to let you know,
you've got a many coloured halo, the body of venus
a babe rainbow and if I come on any closer, I might fall into your silhouette
but the shape of things to come is constantly changing
so let it, so let it, so let it flow
lava lava lava lamp, lava lava lava lamp
indigo, violet and blue, can we meet where the edge is blur cause I am comin' atcha, like a bug eye heading for the burn
the truth is I can't stay away, no I wanna let you light my volcano
and maybe it's just my imagination, but you never know
because the shape of things to come is constantly changing
so let it, so let it, so let it flow
lava lava lava lamp, I'd love to turn you on
lava lava lava lamp, I'd love to turn you on
lava lava lava lamp, I'd love to turn you on
lava lava lava lamp, I'd love to turn you on
so let it, so let it, so let it ...
lava lava lava lamp, I'd love to turn you on
lava lava lava lamp, I'd love to turn you on
lava lava lava lamp, I'd love to turn you on
lava lava lava lamp, I'd love to turn you on
song performed by by Duran Duran
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Birds and Us
Days are numbers and words,
When is the solution of birds?
They dive and deliver their praise,
Therefore their wings will amaze.
I must signify danger to their glare,
The very sight of a dozen men who stare.
We decide the losing people,
Birds merely sing and recover, they are defendable.
Their powers reply to ours
In ways of the air, the bazaars.
I can buy the book in the shop
But this bird is free and to chop.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Everlasting Earth
Everlasting Earth
By Lori Triggs
Copyrighted August 31,2009
At one time earth land was plentiful and lush
now earth land is deforested even unplentiful where is the lush,
the animals with birds were plentiful while beautiful
now the animals with birds are unplentiful or are instinct.
At one time earth ocean was plentiful and beautiful
now earth ocean is being deharvested while the coral reefs disappear,
the mammals with fish even other sea life where plentiful besides beautiful
now the mammals with fish even other sea life are deheavested or are instinct.
At one time earth lakes with rivers plentiful and beautiful
now earth lakes with rivers is being defished even poisoned not to drink,
the fish with wildlife was plentiful while beautiful
now the fish with wild life are unplentiful or instinct.
Humans caused these things to the earth beside nature as well too
well earth cannot fix its self every time especially when we caused it,
earth is not everlasting, one day she will stop working too, same goes with the other planets.
Only 2% water we can drink the rest we cannot drink
it is ocean and pollution in the water think about that,
if no animals, even birds or fish I say no food if their no food means no people!
poem by Lori Triggs
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Set them free..They will multiply..
Watching the birds is real fun,
no need dime, only the time,
colorful birds to colored birds,
chirping birds to singing birds,
flying birds to walking birds,
cunning birds to love birds,
Watching birds is just a lesson,
making mind to have a vision.
collect the twigs to make the nest,
one by one, they think the best,
choose the right tree,
just high and free,
Making the nest perfect,
without any single defect,
The birds toil together or alone,
all day long until it is done.
I bought two love birds,
that were kept in a cage.
Hung the cage under the balcony,
above the reach of dogs not felony.
chirping disturbed their sleep,
Nikko, the dog set them free.
Only two flew away,
but I have a few dozens now,
making their nests,
right in front of me, on the trees.
Watching the birds is real fun,
no need dime, only the time.
poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
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The Story Of My Life
I was only joking
When i said i didn't love you
Of course i still love you
I always have! !
In fact it kills me to think
You might've ever thought that
I wasn't telling the truth....
It's never been that bad
Please don't ever believe
That i couldn't love you
I couldn't ever not love you
Even if i tried
It was a cruel jibe
I did'nt think you'd care
I didn't think that you'd react like you did
I already explained i need you more then air? ?
I don't regret meeting you
It was the best day of my life
I tell all my friends about it
Day after day
I'm sure they get sick of it
But i could not give a shit
It's the story of my life
The story of my life
poem by Lucy Vernezze
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God's obssession with Geometry
you may not be all knowing
but it does not mean you
would not know the all knowing
for instance the fact that he is
obssessed with geometry
the lines you see everywhere
in the the butterflies, the birds,
the insects, animals
what do they have in common?
such an overpowering exquisite
range of shapes and patterns
the obssession develops into
creating things to carry and
dance with those mindboggling,
at times, eerie, alluring and simply
ingenious and haunting designs
his favourite should be the shape of a ball
all things important are crowned with a roundness
that conveys his fondness for them
it starts from your two eyeballs, then the earth
then the sun, the whole planetary system
even the way they move, circular lines
the rest of his geometric insanity,
you have to run for them in the butterflies,
the birds, the molluscs, the shells,
each earth particle, the crystals
and did i say our very own face.
every line on the face makes us another person
you need not be all knowing
but that does not mean you
would not know the all knowing
his preference, his dos and donts
the way he talks in symbols using
things around us, and the cycle of things
his obssession with geometry
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Cuckoos Nest
Hey you cuckoo!
See youre in the paper late today, accused of something,
And your lips are closed to all of those who know shes missing.
Talk abounds she wont be found alive and thats a pity.
I read about all of these crimes. when will it end?
Carry me through tomorrow, guide me along the way.
Im tired of the insane running things,
And I wont stop tryin for change.
Seems the towns ablaze and tvs live to show its burning.
All the while, the smiling juvenile is seeking mercy.
I see these crimes all of the time. when will it end?
Carry me through tomorrow, guide me along the way.
Im tired of the insane running things,
And I wont stop tryin for change.
We legislate and educate trying to find
A way to fix the broken dream.
Carry me through tomorrow, guide me along the way.
If this is the youth of tomorrow,
Im running the other way.
Carry me through tomorrow, guide me along the way.
Im tired of the insane running things,
And I wont stop tryin for change.
song performed by by Queensryche
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Because You Love Me
If I couldn't love you and wear your ring
The wind would stop blowing and the birds couldn't sing
If I couldn't love you, the sky couldn't be so blue
And the waves would stop as if on cue
If I couldn't love you, my life would be such a mess
I have god to thank for you, and him to praise and bless
The birds are singing and the wind is blowing
Because of of your love, I am glowing
The skys are such a beautiful blue
And with your love the oceans too
My whole world has fallen into place
My love grows stronger each time I see your face
Youv'e stood by me through thick and thin
And now our new life, we can began!
poem by Donna Nimmo
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The Crooked Ways Of The Tiny Birds 2
feelings are sometimes like the tiny birds
of summer feeding on a few grains
on the wide yards of the garden where the grasses
spread far
some do feel being smothered by the indifference of other
tiny birds
separated by the distance of the long lines of
parallel electric poles
imagine the image of tiny birds sitting in there
looking for pecking
one notices the vastness of the sky
the unfinished climb of the hill
the vanishing paths of trails long untrue
feelings like tiny birds fly away
but there is no reason to be afraid on the
facts of nonreciprocating birds
ah, the world is wide and too interesting
to be ignored
on a few grains one feeds upon
and having satisfied sits lonelier on the line of an electric pole
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Beak Kind To Birds!
Beak kind to birds both near and far,
Both high and low as well...
To me, each bird's a superstar!
In fact, to me, they're swell!
Beak kind to birds and show you care
With titbits now and then...
And watch with wonder as they share
Their breakfast once again!
Beak kind and keep your cats at bay...
Else feeding birds take flight!
It's nicer seeing birds at play
Than watching them take fright!
Beak kind to birds, give them their space
So they may co-exist...
For none on Earth can take their place,
So they'd be sorely missed!
Beak kind to birds, they'll flock to you -
They're all our feathered friends!
It doesn't matter, black or blue...
Beak kind - 'cos it makes sense!
poem by Denis Martindale (2003)
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On Hearing A Magpie Sing
The magpie sings in the bright sunshine of a humid and a warm day
Perhaps he is telling us something that rain is not that far away
For birds do sing in changing weather on a very warm day when birdsong you hear
You know there's a change in the weather that thundery weather is near.
Birds and animals are more sensitive to Nature than we are since nearer to Nature they live
They pollinate plants in their feeding from Nature they take and to her other things give
They are more Nature friendly than we are and on her resources less of a drain
The huge increase in the human population on Mother Nature does place a huge strain.
So little I know about Nature and so much of her I'd love to know
I fell in love with her as a schoolboy now that seems a long time ago
A wise old lady once did tell me that when out of Season the birds sing
That they detect a change in the weather Nature is a marvellous thing.
The magpie he sings in the sunshine on a warm day of thirty degrees
In his song he is trying to tell me that he senses the rain in the breeze
He can detect changes in Nature of her ways he knows far more than I
In his song he tells me that rain is not distant though there's not a rain cloud in the sky.
poem by Francis Duggan
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When Will Things Change
the world is unworthy and things countine to be dirty when will things change. when the world is full of mess and people just countine to strees, when will things change. when the streets are some of our homes never knowing why were alone, when will the world change. people cry at night just to give up a fight, when will things change. when you need to cry and you need someone 'why' when will things change.
when the world is sour and people have way to much power, when will things change. crying about the past, the things that never last. when will things change. when the world around you is cold, and shared feelings never seem to bold when will things change. when the world comes at you fast and ever part of your stress continues to last. when will things change.
poem by Katie Patterson
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