59
for you to know
I am lonely here like a deserted room
In the city
My windows refuse the orange moon
The sad calls only
Of the sea
Keep penetrating
My writing table has not grown words
Of beautiful shapes
Stunted scribblings only
By the wooden walls
And the lizards’ trails
On the hot ceiling
Keep streaking
such weird
acidity
stinking sticking
the day rains detest
this happening
i am waste liquid
splattered on cold floors
fetid urine
slowly drying throughout summer
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
For You To Know
I am lonely here like a deserted room
In the city
My windows refuse the orange moon
The sad calls only
Of the sea
Keep penetrating
My writing table has not grown words
Of beautiful shapes
Stunted scribblings only
By the wooden walls
And the lizards’ trails
On the hot ceiling
Keep streaking
such weird
acidity
stinking sticking
the day rains detest
this happening
i am waste liquid
splattered on cold floors
fetid urine
slowly drying throughout summer
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Tale Of Dusty & Pistol Pete
Dusty screams, through doors and imaginary floors
why cant you miss me?
Pistol pete removes the final breaths from her unkind and she is shaken
What does this mean in love or in peace?
With you lying next to me
So faithless serene
And she calls to him
Let the waste cross the ancient trails to you
Far out beneath the sorrow clouds
Let them taste the bitter lost mistake of you
Let them cry out through your rusted scars
Alone he roams inside the ordinary catacombs of her waiting
With raven hands she steals and staggers towards her man
Still scorned by his demon
Because hes undone
Become the language of
Disaster and love, vengeance and dust
And she calls to him
Let the waste cross the ancient trails to you
Far out beneath the sorrow clouds
Let them taste the bitter lost mistake of you
Let them cry out through your rusted scars
Dusty screams, through doors and imaginary scenes
Of hurt and teardrop
As he holds her down, in the cold lonely winds
Together again, her inside him
And she calls to him
Let the waste cross the ancient trails to you
Far out beneath the sorrow clouds
Let them taste the bitter lost mistake of you
Let them cry out through your rusted scars
song performed by by Smashing Pumpkins
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Broken
There is a room where everything is broken,
a room where gravity even slips gears.
Scrawled and aborted love poems
have been burned into the carpets
with bleach.
If it wasn't for the empty, cold drafts the air would stagnate
coagulate,
and fall to the ground in thick, oozing clumps.
Flies swarm the red wine that is splattered on nicotine stained walls.
Time doesn't fly here,
it limps.
All the mementos,
the keepsakes of previous occupants,
have been drenched in diesel fuel and torched by vandals.
(The last 'real' life that has bothered to visit) .
Cold, autumnal sunlight enters through shattered windows,
and falls,
fractured, sliced, and lifeless on Crystal Nacht floors.
A room frozen,
in the final throes,
of entropy.
poem by Brevet Wilson
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If There Is No Moon
If there is no moon,
How possible could it be?
Your lips
Won’t wobble
Far from your chin.
It will be only a gazer
Shouting
Cold words
In a lost deserted Cancun.
If there is no moon,
You won’t irrupt
And spill out
Any of
Your hot and angry lavas,
But a
Liquid of
Dormant
Crystallized feelings;
They awake
And then swoon.
If there is no moon,
Your
Tides
And oceanic waves
Won’t crash
Against my chest
No flood,
No touch down,
No damage done,
No hurricane, and
No typhoon.
If there is no moon,
Words come flat
Undistorted;
Your kisses
Lose its own cycles
Between a croissant
And a full moon.
If there is no moon,
Love’s
Tears will be
Only
A crack of memories
On the ice
Lying strewn.
If there is no moon,
God and goddess,
Supreme Deity, and
Divinity
Will be
A song
Writing
Between Saturn’s
Rings
And the Martian's dunes.
poem by Atef Ayadi
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Streaking The Australian Way
Streaking
Do we do on a lonely campus night
Tvs a drag and theyre turning off the city lights
I remember the days of the party raids
And sitting on combs was a silly craze
We got a new one
And its called
Streaking the old australian way
Streaking
Were bringing back the age
Streaking
The old australian way
Streaking
Its not what you call your regular high school course
Its a little like lady godiva without the horse
You just need a crowd and some confidence
Theres nothing special to wear so theres no expense
Everybody can do it
So lets go streaking
The old australian way
Were bringing back the age
Streaking
The old australian way
Me and my lady are going to get away
Then go streaking night and day
We felt for awhile there was nothing new to try
You dont have to smoke it but it still gets you high
You just need a mg to get away
And maybe a nice warm sunny day
Anybody can do it
So lets go streaking the old australian way
Were bringing back the age
Streaking
song performed by by Rick Springfield
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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At Night With The Rain
i have closed the doors
and the windows
and let go the curtains
touching the floors
i close my eyes and listen
to the rain
i dream of stars
i miss the moon
the walls close on in me
beyond the glass windows
to the sea
i hear the sad calls of the
night
outside the trees are blown
the black cat stares at me
and then some tears
begin to fall
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Zoom-in
Snow flowers in the midst of lonely night,
Lonely moments wrapped in the mist,
The walkway, lit with the dim light of moon,
Cold and black road at
The gate of deserted house,
A forlorn voice, clings desperately to the window,
Doorsill, drowned in an unknown fear,
Everything, bewildered andspeechless,
Weary and desolate,
A lone candle on the table,
With the head thrown back
Eyes, fixed at the door.
Coffee cup on the table, cold and quite,
Distressing thoughts, daydreams and I,
A lonely book, in my cold lap and I.
poem by Amjad Islam Amjad
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Red And Orange
Ther's a red house,
Inside there's an orange door.
Beside that there's a red carpet,
On top of an orange floor.
There's a red table,
Below an orange ceiling.
Upstairs there's a red bed,
Inside an orange room.
There's a couple of red people sleeping soundly,
Next door two orange ones too.
Outside there's a red truck,
No one knows what to do.
I don't see the proble,
Why don't you leave us all alone.
But now I see the red more clearly,
And I know what's done is done.
And I'll float away with the cloudy smoke,
Before the inevertable happens and I start to choke.
Good bye red house,
So long orange door.
I'm going for a long sleep noe,
Six feet under the floor.
What looks in (windows and rain)
Rain upon windows…
Dark bedroom walls
Shimmering pastel mists
down shadowed halls
Windows of ebon black…
and cold Crystal light
Transparently solid through
Both dark and night
Seemingly liquid… in rivulets
Of slithers of rains
Silver sheet of mercury
Over fevered panes
Half seen reflections
enshroud the palpable dark
And imagined…(or real) things
Seem to quiver, dance and spark
Leaves strike... then flee
Tossed by cold fingers of wind
Tree branches rap upon the glass
as if wanting to come in
Pull covers o’er your head
Scrinch closed your eyes e’er so tight
Tis only windows they are…
So no real reason for fright
But… for what looks back in…
Through your windows tonight
poem by David Whalen
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Inside My Study Room
five o'clock, the usual time
but i already woke up at 3: 45
too early really
but i could not go back to
sleep
the words arrive
riding on the boat
such wind
hovering
disembarking in my
brain
i am surrounded by
glass walls
and light brown
drapes
books scattering
like garbage
on the floors and
tables
i smell the odor of
dust and
water inside a vase
unchanged
the red rose
had long wilted
no one comes around
to fix things
and keep all of these
in their proper places
the windows are still
closed and it
is still dark outside
though the crows
have already
sounded their
sad calls
the cocks keep sounding
it is already morning
and the windows
must not be opened
i write some lines
as usual and then
i'll wear my socks
and put on my
rubber shoes
and then i will take
my walk to the
woods
it will be cold
and i can see my breath
like smoke from a pipe
but i need this
my body craves
my feet want to move
the walls are too much
and the curtains feel
like they have to be washed
i open the door
and then i meet a new
world again
i know at first it will
still be cold
that is usual
i know after this
the sun comes again
as usual
and things will warm themselves
again
on promises
like what hope is all about.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Mayhem
I came back to the thick, sweet cloying smell of fresh blood,
it was daubed over the floors, up walls and had
clogged up the spittoons.
There were three nurses, out cold, in the waiting room
and one throwing up in the rest room
while the dentist, stone white, looked on.
Is someone going to clear up this mess up, he shouted.
I started in the front surgery, the debris was everywhere,
it took me two hours.
Then I made them all tea, threw away the towels,
sat down in the corner of the room
and asked, What the hell happened here?
Mr Duncan-Smith did a surgical, they said
and as I raised my eyes to the ceiling,
there dripped the last spot of blood.
poem by Ruth Walters
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Inveteracies...
a heap of dry leaves
under the trees
trees like fingers
stretching to reach
the moon
on the marshes
of the big river
the full moon sits
silently
a dog barks
this morning
at the wrong person
someone calls my
name but i do not dare
look back
promises are
feet without floors
faith is always
a blind item
and people accept
them always to
be true
and all giving
and
reliable
blank walls
speak too much
doors close
at the wrong hours of the
day
windows imitating
the natural
beauty of some
sexless eunuchs
facing the monitor
i am the nuclear
sun
threatening the room
that the explosion
is near
the dusts run in panic
the winds
stir the pebbles into
rebellion
etcetera is when
you do not know what is next
from your
self-proclaimed
knowledgeability
30.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Into My Own Privacy....
i do not wish that you become a part of me
like light to my room
i do not need any
i thrive in the comfort of my own darkness
with an option
whether to partake with light
or not
i am but a room with a little space
a small bed enough for my arms and legs
just enough
for my sleep,
i destroyed the ceiling
so i can see the
stars
i closed the windows and doors
so i cannot be
with anybody
i do not wish you to stay and be friendly
i like to enjoy how is it to be unfriendly
in some
moments where i cherish my own privacy
the silence of the paper in cohort with the pen
that romance with words and symbols
and in between thoughts, the precious solitude of
not being with anyone,
i am both the deserting and the deserted.
it's a certain stage and i want more of it
without all of you, i have this gift of thought.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Nasty Bath Room
The bustand
Bath room
Was not for
Clean...
Urine sumeel
Cut the nose...
Some budy pass
Urine...
No for water
But
Colected money
For indian rupees
Onr for urine pass...
Rupees two for
Motion pass...
I was give
One rupee
I went the
Bustand bath room...
Not passed
The urine...
Urine was my self
Very urgent...
But i did not pass urine;
I was pay the one rupee
For indian money
Nasty bath room...
You also go and see
The bustand that bath room
Very care full...
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
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Long Hot Summer Night
It sure was a long long long hot summer night
As far as my eyes could see
Well my heart was way
Down in a cold cold winter storm.
Well my darlin where can you be? where can you be baby?
Where can you be?
There was three sugar walls and a two candy cane windows
But the serious mood melted ah all those insight
Everybodys on fire but Im uh snowin in a cold blizzard.
Where are you on this ah hot cold summer?
Where are you on this ah hot cold summer?
Where are you on this ah hot cold summer night?
Around about this time the telephone blew its horn across the room
Scared little annie clean out of her mind and I tell ya
Roman the candle he peeps out of his peekaboo hide and seek
And grabbed little annie from the ceiling just in time
And the telephone keeps on screamin.
Yeah yeah yeah!
Yeah, yeah, yeah!
Hello said my shaked voice, well how you doin I start to stutter look
Ah cant cha tell Im ah doin
Fine there was my baby talkin shes way down cross the border.
She says Im gonna hurry to ya Ive been a fool
And Im tired of cryin
Said Im tired jimi.
Yes a long long long hot summer night
As far as my eyes could see
But I can ah feel the heat comin on as my babys gettin closer.
Im so glad that my babys comin to rescue me
So glad that my babys comin to rescue me
So glad that my babys comin to rescue me
Rescue, rescue me, rescue
Rescue me, rescue
Rescue, rescue, whatd I say
Rescue me, rescue me
Rescue, rescue me, rescue
Rescue me
song performed by by Jimi Hendrix
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Weird World
It's a Weird World...Weird World
Hey, hey, hey!
The sun is over the city but it's an orange day
There is reason for looking up but I'm feeling down
You see Ive got to catch a plane, won't buy a ticket
'Cause it's hard to just stop when you're spinning around
Its a weird world dont you know it?
Its a weird world and it wont slow down
Its a weird world no matter how you roll it
Hey, hey, hey! Sweet baby
Theres a way
Just stand up and fight it
Hey, hey, hey!
Never give up, and dont let it wear out (now)
Your love
It's a weird world...Yeah
Sent a message to a G.I.
In the desert
Said thank you man for bringing another dawn
Back here it's her and me
And we're having our first baby
And he's out there taking them on (on)
Its a weird world and I know you know it
Its a weird world and it wont slow down
Its a weird world no matter how you roll it
Hey, hey, hey! Sweet baby
Theres a way
Just stand up and fight it
Hey, hey, hey!
Never give up, dont let it wear out (now)
Your love
Im closing my eyes but Im starting to see
While hes looking at you, shes looking at me
The only thing he does is just keep me away from you
Sure part of this place would cheer if I died
Dont let them take away your beautiful smile
Take away your beautiful smile
Take away your beautiful smile
Hey, hey, hey! Sweet baby
Theres a way
Just stand up and fight it (Yeah, ye-ah!)
Hey, hey, hey! (sweet baby!) Sweet baby
Theres a way
For you to decide it
Hey, hey, hey!
Never give up, dont let it wear out (now)
Your love
Hey, hey, hey!
Its a weird world dont you know it?
Hey, hey, hey!
Its a weird world dont you know it?
Hey, hey, hey!
Oh, its a weird world dont you know it?
Hey, hey, hey...
song performed by by Backstreet Boys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Round Table
we have this round table
and we put all our hands
on it when we eat and
drink and just talk for
hours and hours and
listen. And we ask what
is happening: Karding
broke a leg and Delia
is looking for the money.
Always it is the money.
Always she is short of
the money. And there
were jewelries hanging
on her neck and arms
and fingers, and we all
ask at this round table:
what is happening?
Nothing, don't mind at
all, this is just a part of
the round table, some
wine glass that broke
and must be swept at
once. We keep away the
sound of a crying pig.
We eat pigs here at this
round table. Then we shifted
the talk about our dead
parents. We pray. We
remember we keep on
saying this. We finish eating
the pig. We drink a very
cold water. Our throats
are irritated and we step
out of the room wanting
to pull away our tongues.
when we come back the
round table is empty.
and we laugh about a
joke that we remember.
our childhood games
the river, and the boat
that father made for us.
we turn off the tv and we
begin to talk about the
beautiful flowers in mother's
old garden, the secret one.
we agree. we miss it.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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When the Full Moon Shines Through the Clouds
Strange shapes can be seen
when the full moon shines through the clouds.
Stange shapes can be seen,
frightengly realistic images
of faces and figures,
some human, some demonic.
And, right now
in the world,
under that same moon
shining through different clouds,
people are cowering in fear.
In parts of the world,
people are sick, and dying,
people are being murdered,
tortured,
people are mourning
and crying over their losses.
And I sit here, in this room,
typing,
in cogitation,
with food,
with drink.
My most pressing current concern
is that a cold October draft
is forcing its way through my window.
I reach to make sure my window is fully closed;
a full moon beams its light into my room
along with that cold October daft,
and I notice:
Strange shapes can be seen
when the full moon shines through the clouds.
poem by Derek R. Audette
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Starry Night
When the night falls in your small room
Nothing seen but the dark and the air becomes chill
Everybody has turned asleep
Leaving the blue mountain bored and lonely
Look at your window, the moon calls
There is stars bloom in the dark sky
Giving a hazy sight of the imaginary city
The tall tree is now awaking
When the cold rigid line blurred into waving hands ready to dance
And city lights accompany you to sing a long the midnight
Even the scary darkness drunken in the party
Marching the clouds around the stars and moon
Inspired by Starry Night, Vincent van Gogh
poem by Maria Sudibyo
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Untitled 27
to understand how this world works
where the stars are kept
how this earth intervenes on the affairs
of the sun and the moon
why the frog sings when it rains
why the geese are noisy on their
v-shaped migration,
to me, is plain, crazy,
we are here not to understand at all
we are given gifts to accept
we are here to wonder and appreciate
why worry? enjoy what you see
taste what's so beautiful and delicious on the platter
on the table
we indulge in conversation
we toast a drink to this beautiful universe
we are amazed by the stars
and the heavens
we are caressed by the sun and the moon
what more do we have to argue about?
such a waste of such a short time span
i like to spend it some more bathing in the pond
with the swans.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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