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the flowers of youth are growing brown around your garden
the leaves fall and the buds grown tight, no longer unfolding
bridges lose their bearings and rivers catch them falling
the splintered wood float like so many boats drifting
things decay, strength is forgotten in the face of weakness
loneliness conquers even the memory of brighter hours
soon your face will be a small photograph almost like a stamp
on a very important letter that i mailed to someone very far away
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Related quotes
When The Leaves Come Falling Down
I saw you standing with the wind and the rain in your face
And you were thinking bout the wisdom of the leaves and their grace
When the leaves come falling down
In september when the leaves, come falling down
And at night the moon is shining on a clear, cloudless sky
And when the evening shadows fall Ill be there by your side
When the leaves come falling down
In september when the leaves, come falling down
Follow me down, follow me down, follow me down
To the place beside the garden and the wall
Follow me down, follow me down
To the space before the twilight and the dawn
Oh, the last time I saw paris in the streets, in the rain
And as I walk along the boulevards with you, once again
And the leaves come falling down
In september, when the leaves come falling down
Follow me down, follow me down, follow me down
To the place between the garden and the wall
Follow me down, follow me down
To the space between the twilight and the dawn
And as Im looking at the colour of the leaves, in your hand
As were listening to chet baker on the beach, in the sand
When the leaves come falling down,
Woe in september, when the leaves come falling down
Oh when the leaves come falling down
Yeah in september when the leaves come falling down
When the leaves come falling down
In september, when the leaves come falling down
When the leaves come falling down in september, in the rain
When the leaves come falling down
When the leaves come falting down in september, in the rain
When the leaves come falling down
song performed by by Van Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Growing Consciousness
for such is the true nature of our state
the growing consciousness
always the unfolding of the petals to become
the flower
the sprouting of the seeds
the ripening of the fruit
the surprises of the buds like tips of your fingers
for always the sun spreads its rays and shows its dominion for the day
for always the moon shall transform paleness to fullness
to the joys of our eyes
to the satisfaction of our feelings and longings
for always the leaves thicken themselves and they fall
only to grow the greener leaves again
for always my dear from you fall you shall rise
from your silence you must be tranquil
for always you must keep the hope growing
the love stronger
for always you must believe that things will always turn better
that at the end there shall be this perfection
of who we are and what shall we become
believe in this wisdom and you shall begin to hear the songs.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sadness To Loneliness
This is not the life I wanted for us,
Nor the pain that settles in.
Am over welled by sadness,
Cursed by loneliness.
We were the perfect peas to each others port.
The sunrise to our sunset.
You the rose of my garden, I was the root to your happiness, but
It all came stomping down like thunder rolls.
A shock wave of bitterness slap me,
With a tone I couldn't respond to.
Jealous and envy came to play but am not a player to this type of game.
Gossip in the air increase my sadness and loneliness.
We had a tree growing together now the branches is falling apart.
My days are empty
My nights are colds,
Still wondering where I went wrong with my rose.
My endevers was only tears of joy for you
And satisfied your needs in every way possible.but my life is torn apart.
Now my sadness is growing to loneliness.
Never thought I would lost my rose but now the petals is slowly falling.
What we had was big but going to miss the small things.
Never meant for things to end this way but my sadness has turn into loneliness....
poem by Donavan Avril
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Here I Go
Key:-r:- ray
A:- anita
A: ohhh... why dont you catch me?
R: catch me, cause I falling deep down below
A: Im falling! yeah!
R: theres no way out, man you try to escape
Concentrate on your mind cause it might just break
Into half, crack down fast
I keep my face straight no need to laugh
I did some right, I did some wrong
I regret these things, but I gotta stay strong
I feel the pressure, now dont you know?
Catch me, cause Im falling deep down below
A: oh, I cant escape, Im trapped there is no safe place to go
And I do regret the things I did, but how on earth could I know?
Here I go!
Here I go catch me Im falling deep
Here I go
Here I go catch me Im falling falling
Here I go
R: here I go
Here I go
A: here I go
R: catch me, come on
R: now heres the question any suggestions?
You play it yourself, taught yourself a lesson
Out of your mind you feel like stressing
Searching for answers, you keep on guessing
You messed it up, youre living low
How far youll go, man I dont know
Come out the dark, Ill bring you in the light
And leave your problems all behind
A: here I go
R: here I go again
Here I go again
A: here I go
R: catch me, cause Im falling deep down below!
A: oh, I cant escape, Im trapped there is no safe place to go
And I do regret the things I did, but how on earth could I know?
Here I go!
Here I go catch me Im falling deep
Here I go
R: here I go
Here I go
A: here I go catch me Im falling deep
Here I go
R: deep down below
Deep down below
A: here I go catch me Im falling deep
Here I go
R: here I go
Here I go
Here I go
A: here I go catch me Im falling falling
How could I know?
R: catch me, Im falling
A: catch me
R: now let it flow
Here I go
R: here I go
Here I go
A: here I go
R: catch me
Catch me
A: here I go!
Here I go catch me Im falling deep
Here I go!
Here I go catch me Im falling deep
Here I go!
Here I go catch me Im falling deep
Here I go
Here I go
Here I go catch me Im falling falling
song performed by by 2 Unlimited
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Autumn Falling Leaves
When all have been and gone away,
Like leaves from green to amber orange,
Falling down and to decay,
Is the time for all in nature to fall,
And the leaves on the trees show it all,
Autumn and its falls of fall,
Where all the branches have dropped their leaves,
All have gone except the evergreens,
Showing signs to us that live among,
Four seasons weather,
Where Autumn is,
Just like in life,
When full circle of life is known,
A start in spring where buds appear,
Then in summer full bloom trees will be,
Hence, fall shows all,
When nature falls,
Begining another season,
Winter and chill tempetures,
Where nature decays,
And leaves do fall,
To generate again,
Renewing its life,
Come spring again,
Untill then,
Autumn sheads its leaves of blossom and blooms,
And soon again autumn begins,
From new to old,
And then old to new,
Buds in spring and leaves of green,
Showing birth from what did decayed,
And brought forth from,
What was bear on the trees,
From where beneath was where once,
Those Autumn falling leaves.
poem by Ellen Ni Bheachain
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Paper Boats
Day by day I float my paper boats one by one down the running
stream.
In bid black letters I write my name on them and the name of
the village where I live.
I hope that someone in some strange land will find them and
know who I am.
I load my little boats with shiuli flower from our garden, and
hope that these blooms of the dawn will be carried safely to land
in the night.
I launch my paper boats and look up into the sky and see the
little clouds setting thee white bulging sails.
I know not what playmate of mine in the sky sends them down
the air to race with my boats!
When night comes I bury my face in my arms and dream that my
paper boats float on and on under the midnight stars.
The fairies of sleep are sailing in them, and the lading ins
their baskets full of dreams.
poem by Rabindranath Tagore
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One summer when the wind was strong
This is the place, now we are here again
I remember that summer when the wind was strong
And everything around us was dry,
The acacia trees towered and showered us with
Round leaves falling and falling and falling
Some birds were there and they flew away
Some cars were there and they speeded away
It was getting dark and it was a dry summer
We stayed there for a while when the leaves fell
Then we went under the trees not seeking shelter
But to catch those leaves falling and falling and falling
We are trying to feel again what falling was
We are here on this summer, we see the leaves
Falling and falling again to the dry wind,
We try to recall about us, but there is simply
Nothing about us anymore, but just the same
The leaves fall and fall and fall, we see them reenacting
There is that meaning; there it is in the falling
But we have outgrown it, we look for more, we hope
We can find some more, something beyond us.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Drifting Away
(orbison/dees)
Sadness slips into the room
On silent steps of sorrow
Stealing sleep and all my dreams
Where will we be tomorrow?
Lying with you, crying with you, drifting
Talking till dawn yet we go on, drifting
Dont understand where we began just drifting apart
Drifting apart feeling alone drifting away
We cant seem to work it out
Drifting from day to day
Wasnt it all about, drifting away
Drifting away, drifting away
Losing the feeling
And now the music of the song is almost gone
That we used to play
From sweet surrender from drifting away, drifting
Two lovers lost two rivers crossed, drifting
Two bridges burned, no lesson learned, drifting
Lonely together, hurting each other
Still we cant say that its over
Can we bring back yesterday?
Will we be forever, forever drifting away
Drifting, drifting away
song performed by by Roy Orbison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Autumn Feeling
Feeling of love is everywhere
As the times go on by
I'll remember it here and there
Like sun glow in the sky
Days gone were lonely some
Everything is again calling
Emotions like summer blossom
Day to the autumn falling
Feeling of a dream in heart
Love like tones of deep
Everything goes night will start
Nothing is ours to keep
Garden flowers falling leaves
Songs of summer leaving
Moments in their lonely grieves
Hours in shadows deceiving
Feeling inside of loneliness
As autumn says goodbye
Moments of green and caress
Falling leaves on their fly
Everything had its summer dream
Now it time is done
Yesterdays in the autumn stream
Hours of remembrance on
poem by Peter S. Quinn
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Autumn in the Garden
When the frosty kiss of Autumn in the dark
Makes its mark
On the flowers, and the misty morning grieves
Over fallen leaves;
Then my olden garden, where the golden soil
Through the toil
Of a hundred years is mellow, rich, and deep,
Whispers in its sleep.
'Mid the crumpled beds of marigold and phlox,
Where the box
Borders with its glossy green the ancient walks,
There's a voice that talks
Of the human hopes that bloomed and withered here
Year by year,--
Dreams of joy, that brightened all the labouring hours,
Fading as the flowers.
Yet the whispered story does not deepen grief;
But relief
For the loneliness of sorrow seems to flow
From the Long-Ago,
When I think of other lives that learned, like mine,
To resign,
And remember that the sadness of the fall
Comes alike to all.
What regrets, what longings for the lost were theirs!
And what prayers
For the silent strength that nerves us to endure
Things we cannot cure!
Pacing up and down the garden where they paced,
I have traced
All their well-worn paths of patience, till I find
Comfort in my mind.
Faint and far away their ancient griefs appear:
Yet how near
Is the tender voice, the careworn, kindly face,
Of the human race!
Let us walk together in the garden, dearest heart,
Not apart!
They who know the sorrows other lives have known
Never walk alone.
poem by Henry Van Dyke
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Upon Reading The Poems of Lesbia
the attempt to say
what harsh feeling was there
was well said on those lines that float like leaves on the river
very usual
nothing sophisticated
there is that twirl that would have made me dizzy for a while
but the heart that knows pain
cannot fall on the malady of nausea
there were many empty spaces
i just watch not having the duty to fill them with my thoughts
for mine
are in packets and always lacking
in content
and style
i move around the parks and winding ways of Lesbia
weird but not saying anything
impressed but there is that lingering desire
to move out
somewhere
black birds without islands
bridges that fall
boats without anchor
a love that has to be spelled
still correctly
as you all look at me with anticipated fury
this incapacity to
raise my thumb and say
everything is alright
what business do i have writing this poem somehow
the lines that throw up
the feet that runs away from them all
i have this world
in my fingertips and it is mine and mine alone
small and tight
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Wood of Flowers
I went to the Wood of Flowers
(No one was with me):
I was there alone for hours.
I was happy as could be
In the Wood of Flowers.
There was grass on the ground,
There were buds on the tree,
And the wind had a sound
Of such gaiety,
That I was as happy
As happy could be,
In the Wood of Flowers.
poem by James Stephens
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A work to no work
From busy schedule to no work table
From able body to feel all of sudden unable
The isolation and loneliness is understandable
It is growing within but not manageable
How from hectic work you have come a grindig halt?
How all of sudden the soulnd has been rubbed with salt?
All careate unbearable pain just to make you panicky
The preoblem is growing more and almost becomes tricky
It is natural cycle that repeats after certain interval
The autumn becomes paramount after its arrival
The spring might have ruled for some times to come
It can not remain permanent as it is not destined to welcome
Everything is subjected to decay
Even old age may come to our dismay
The youth and energy may not remain forever
It is advised to adjust accordingly therefore
There can be only reminsceneces of romantic stage
It might have grown beautifully with the age
The print might have been looked as golden on the page
You should have surrrendered to your love even when in great rage
It is not easy to sit under sky and stare
It is leading not to solution anywhere
It may harp on your memeory mercilessly
Those things may come on screen and trouble you endlessly
It is easy to forget unpleasant things but difficult to forget
All beautiful moments slipping away and and can’t be let
You weep your face by hiding it under the piece of small cloth
Is the isolation and lonneliness not killing you by combining both?
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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The Rose-Bush
There was a rose-bush in a garden growing,
Its tender leaves unfolding day by day;
The sun looked-on, and his down-going
Left it amid the starlit dusk of nights of May.
The dew-drop came and kissed it in the gloaming;
It gathered sweetness in the morning hours;
The bee beheld it as he went aroaming,
And thought, 'What honey will be hidden in its flowers!'
The light grew richer and the days grew long;
The May-time deepened into June;
The air was laden with the robin's song,
The light wind touched the leaves and set them atune.
And now a tiny bud appeared, and then another--
Bright promises of radiant flowers;
The breezes, whispering, told it to each other,
The rose-bush heard them in the gladsome hours.
New Hope awoke and thrilled in all it veins;
Life is so sweet that culminates in flowers!
It smiled and grew in misty summer rains,
And caught the freshness of the evening showers.
And oft the gardener came and stood beside;
He tended it alway with zealous care,
Watching lest any evil should betide,
Or blight creep o'er the leaves that grew so fair.
He crushed the buds and dropped them on the ground;
The rose-bush felt a chill in every vein;
It drooped, as if to hide each bitter wound--
This strange experience was its earliest thought of pain.
'Poor little plant,' the gardener thought,
Thou art too young, too young to know
That few buds unto flowers are brought,--
It is by pruning thou must grow.'
And still the summer smiled and shoned,
And other roses bloomed and died.
'Mine would more beauteously have blown,'
The little rose-bush sadly sighed.
Again the gardener sought his flowers,
Where he had watched his treasures blow:
The autumn blast has swept the bowers,
The winds and storms has laid them low!
Though sad of heart, the rose-bush still was green;
It lifted up its drooping head;
'The life that would have filled the buds may still be seen,
'Tis folded in its heart,' he said.
He stooped and took it from the ground
All trembling with its vague alarms,
And quick and tenderly he wrapped it round,
And kindly bore it in his arms.
And now where soft the sunshine flows,
Within a fair, immortal bower,
In all its fragrant beauty blooms the rose,
Its every bud grown into perfect flower.
poem by Anonymous Americas
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Another New Beginning And The Past Is Now Forgotten....
we get blinded by the rage of our
own biases
our own prejudices are monsters within us
eating us slowly
until we disappear from the face
of our reasons
the wise man says
it is destiny, there is nothing to worry
nature is just fulfilling
what the stars have drawn
in the skies of your
very own palms
when all of them is taken away
it is nature that is claiming its prize
but soon nature returns back
what was painfully taken
in joys doubled and even tripled
look at the rivers now
aren't they seductive with their own clarity?
look at the trees
some leaves are beginning to grown on their bald branches
the fish are showing their colored scales
and the moss are growing their greenish hairs
the children have arrived with their boats and paddles
ready for another sail another swim
they are our new divers to claim their new pearls
the women are singing and the lovers are following them
the old are settled on their chairs and listening to the old
songs of the winds
another new beginning
the past is now forgotten.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Tattoo
In this autumn storm, and this loneliness,
I would tattoo your face to my body; and at
every long night, autumn leaves will fall,
reminding me to write my 'pastorals'
and the serene skies above me, will
calm my ridiculous consuming passion,
the passion that makes my path misty and
foggy; is my body so weary, that your face no
longer is visible; its faded away the tattoo
of your face. When autumn rain falls I’ll
pick my chestnut leaves thinking you are there
to help.
poem by Elenushka Toledo
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Buchart Garden
my friends are travelling for fifteen hours
away from the drudgery of their lives
to buchart garden
to see the island garden
the flowers of their youth
the fountains of their wishes
the rivers of their lives
i am excited
about the coming pictures
through the emails
after they have seen
them all. i am waiting.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Freedom Sigh
Freedom breathes through every pore,
Escapes in gasps froms cracks in floors.
I'll dream of you so many nights,
I've cried and screamed with eyes shut tight.
And freedom breeds, it lives, it fights.
I know not where I'm going,
Forgotten where I've been.
I'm floating through the streets unknowing,
to you I float, now thats a sin.
A freedim sigh escapes my lips,
I'm counting down the hours.
And I'll long for you to kiss these lips
in the light of freedom's powers.
but even freedom cheats, it lies, it slips.
I know not where I'm going
but I dream of where I've been.
freedom will keep my heart slowing,
and let me go on drowning in this mess.
And to you I'll float for days to come,
in darkness and in hiding.
I'll float until my heart is done,
and in death freedom conquers.
poem by Monica O'Connor
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How Many Nights? ....
IT is the darkness of the enclosure
that is trying to kill me
it is your face that mocks me
it is not time
that befriends me with a basket
of its mellowing
the flowers of youth
its petals falling one by one
to the sands of
of loneliness finally slipping
through my fingers.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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In The Smallest Of Things
when chapters become books,
and passion becomes love...
written in hours and minutes,
in days and weeks...
and weeks become months,
and months become years...
footsteps woven into one.
days of work for nights of small things...
food, fire, children, good books
and good wine...
quiet words spoken, falling like leaves,
the candle lit by touching
in the darkest hours...
do we forget, do we lose memory,
do thoughts become echoes.
bricks laid by sweat and toil
are lost in the wall...
need becomes distance,
and curtains fall.....
you stare at the body,
as if some stranger...
and a lifetime given
like tiny shards of light,
nails covered with rust,
the spider's web empty.
only the trees know,
mountains, and lost caves.
raindrops falling,
and moonlight never named.
the dog barking in the night,
you think for no reason...
ah! but love testifies,
in the smallest of things!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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