90
your eyes in that picture insist on asking why
well, i was yet 15 but i already keep a photograph of you
in my pocket,
you are the face of my heart beat in black and white
i often kiss your tiny lips and put you on my chest
as though i feel you one with me
in my sleep,
that was long time ago and the picture suffered
with the way i was keeping it
inside my old poetry books
in those pages eaten by bookworms
some scratches ultimately
are inflicted in your cheeks
and even your lips
have become empty spaces
blurred by time
what keeps insistent however are your eyes
stripped of a nose and lips and even a neck
thriving on lesser hair
and thin ears
they float in that picture
still looking at me
asking
why?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Your Eyes In That Picture Insist On Asking Why
well, i was yet 15 but i already keep a photograph of you
in my pocket,
you are the face of my heart beat in black and white
i often kiss your tiny lips and put you on my chest
as though i feel you one with me
in my sleep,
that was long time ago and the picture suffered
with the way i was keeping it
inside my old poetry books
in those pages eaten by bookworms
some scratches ultimately
are inflicted in your cheeks
and even your lips
have become empty spaces
blurred by time
what keeps insistent however are your eyes
stripped of a nose and lips and even a neck
thriving on lesser hair
and thin ears
they float in that picture
still looking at me
asking
why?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Picture Of Me
i can easily draw
myself
if i have a pencil and a paper
i could have easily given you a picture of me,
i have the eyes of a Chinese immigrant
my eyelids thicker than the bush that
you always trim along the fence
my lips are thin like the petals
of a rose
some men mistake them
for that of a woman's
but that will be so much of a misleading
fact like the direction of the road
that they changed days ago
some visitors have gone astray.
i am still in the middle of this journey
so my cheeks are smooth with only a few
scratches like the one that you see
when the cat scratches the wall
of the kitchen when it gets hungry
and shouts and yet you do not really mind at all.
my face is black and white
nothing gray
there is no color like a landscape of
fields and pathways.
you have seen me once but you never recognize
me because you relied more on the picture i had
on the poems that you read.
i like to see myself
less the distortions of the modern abstract art.
But i am more of the Gothic
Grecian-roman eclectic type.
You see you want to put me as a portrait in the canvass
like what everyone wants.
Look, look carefully, finally this is the portrait of me.
A river.You dip your finger in my eyes.
It is cold and it is passing like the ordinary wind
one boring day.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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You Came To My Senses
I picture you on the beach
Lying in the sand
Out of reach of my trembling hands
I picture you in a car
Blonde hair in the wind
I picture you in my arms
And the touch of your skin
The smile on your face
The way that you taste
(chorus)
You come to my senses
Every time I close my eyes
I have no defenses
You come to my senses
I cant stop this ache inside
I have no defenses
You come to my senses
Driving home in the cold
January rain
Ive got to find my way out of this pain
I reached for you in the night
I dreamed of your kiss
I woke before it got light
With your name on my lips
Alone in my bed
Your voice in my head
(chorus)
I picture you in my arms
And the touch of your skin
The smile on your face
The way that you taste
You come to my senses
Every time I close my eyes
I have no defenses
You come to my senses
I cant stop this ache inside
Oh, I have no defenses
You come to my senses
Ah...
song performed by by Chicago
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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You Come To My Senses
I picture you on the beach
Lying in the sand
Out of reach of my trembling hands
I picture you in a car
Blonde hair in the wind
I picture you in my arms
And the touch of your skin
The smile on your face
The way that you taste
(chorus)
You come to my senses
Every time i close my eyes
I have no defenses
You come to my senses
I can't stop this ache inside
I have no defenses
You come to my senses
Driving home in the cold
January rain
I've got to find my way out of this pain
I reached for you in the night
I dreamed of your kiss
I woke before it got light
With your name on my lips
Alone in my bed
Your voice in my head
(chorus)
I picture you in my arms
And the touch of your skin
The smile on your face
The way that you taste
You come to my senses
Every time i close my eyes
I have no defenses
You come to my senses
I can't stop this ache inside
Oh, i have no defenses
You come to my senses
Ah...
song performed by by Chicago
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Supremacy is the beauty
Chubby lips, plump cheeks, massive breasts, fleshy buttocks,
Blunt nose, hairy skin, coarse hair and black eyes
Are the features the Dravidians inherited from the Negros.
Thin lips, flat cheeks, rounded breasts, slated buttocks,
Long nose, pale skin, silky hair and brown eyes
Are the features Aryan inherited from the White race.
Aryans are held beautiful by their cultural supremacy.
30.11.2000, Pmdi
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sweetest Sin
Can you imagine us,
Making love..
The way you would feel the first time that we touched,
Can you think of it..
The way I dream of it,
I want you to see like im seeing you..
It's a picture of perfection,
The vision of you and me..
Your lips upon my lips,
Can you just picture this..
Your finger tips on my finger tips,
Your skin upon my skin..
Would be the Sweetest Sin,
Would be the Sweetest Sin..
All night I lie awake,
Cause it's to much to take..
Dreamin' about the love that we could make..All day,
I think of scenes..
To get you next to me,
I want you so bad that I can barely breathe..
It's a sign of my obsession,
That I can't stop thinkin bout'
Your lips upon my lips,
Can you invision this..
Temptation that I could never resist,
Your skin upon my skin..
Would be the Sweetest Sin,
That would be the Sweetest Sin..
It would feel so good,
To be so bad..
You don't know how bad.. I want that,
I would do anything to feel your love..
Your lips upon my lips,
Can you just picture this..
Your finger tips on my finger tips,
Your skin upon my skin..
Would be the Sweetest Sin,
That Would be the Sweetest Sin..
Your lips upon my lips,
Can you invision this..
Temptation that I could never resist,
Your skin upon my skin..
Would be the Sweetest Sin,
Would be the Sweetest Sin..
Your lips upon my lips.. would be the Sweetest Sin
song performed by by Jessica Simpson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Picture
Ur beauty is endearing
Ur face so charming
Ur black short hair
Small nose but big ear
Forehead and those two lips…
Whenever I see, I feel like to kiss….
And just those beautiful eyes
Not so slim, yet so sexy thigh...
U r just beautiful and endearing
So ur pictures that I m downloading
One by one, n still question running 'do I love her'? ?
And if not then why m I downloading ur picture…..
The end
poem by Sushanta Rokka
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Metaphor For My Face....
i pass by the wall
where a picture of
a face is hung,
something that i
cannot just pass
through towards
the door and not
look back at it
again
just a few seconds
i tell myself
i touch the face again
and sigh
it is mine
it was a face then
when i was at your
young age
i was reckless
in that one
it was a set of
wasted eyes
of luscious lips
that took so many
kisses
and let go
all not keeping
one
i leave the picture now
another time wasted
on such a beautiful face
as mine
i must go
to places then
where all mirrors
are broken
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Picture Picture by Tanya Markova
Picture picture ohh...
Picture picture ohh...
Picture picture ohh...
Picture picture ohh...
Picture picture ohh...
Picture picture
Picture picture ohh...
Picture picture ohh...
Picture picture
Picture picture ohh...
Nang gabing masilayan ka...
Dala-dala ko pa
Ang aking lumang camera
Picture picture ohh...
Picture picture
Picture picture ohh...
Picture picture ohh...
Picture picture
Picture picture ohh...
Campus gig noon at nag-aya ang tropa
Maraming bebot ang nagsasayaw
Nang biglang mapansin kita
What a beautiful face
At kinunan kita
What a beautiful face
Angat ka sa iba
Picture picture ohh...
Picture picture
Picture picture ohh...
Picture picture
What a beautiful
What a beautiful face
I saw her face
Mukha syang taga-a a outerspace
Si Mang Roger ako'y kinalabit
Ang sabi
Halika na balot muna
Bago ka mag-konica
Na seramika gawa sa pabrika
Lagot ka na ang kamera may mahika
Ano ang lohika kung bat nahilo ka
Mekaniko si Moniko ng makina ni Monika
What a beautiful face
Bigla kang nawala
What a beautiful face
Ako'y natulala
Picture picture ohh...
Picture picture
Picture picture ohh...
Picture picture
What a beautiful
What a beautiful face
Meron syang look alike na
Meron syang look alike na
Meron syang look alike na
Meron syang look alike na
Meron syang look alike na
Meron syang look alike na
Meron syang look alike na
Mekaniko si Moniko ng makina ni Monika
What a beautiful face
O nasaan ka na
What a beautiful face
Hinahanap-hanap ka
Picture picture ohh...
Picture picture
Picture picture ohh...
Picture picture
What a beautiful
What a beautiful face...
poem by Shi Yelami
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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We Have Not Met Yet
as you read my poems
you imagine what my face would be
given said facts and thoughts like
the way i spend my nights writing
and facing the computer till twilight,
i must be thin, and since i have
lesser sleep, i must have dark
deep, sunken, almond eyes
like the insomniac's night,
my lips may have cracked
due to many coffee cups
giving liveliness to my lines,
my shoulders may have fallen,
due to extreme exhaustion,
my skin may have dried and
my hair may have been scattered
by the strong wind
like those poets who no longer
care for their health and hygiene.
i am sorry but you are wrong.
You have to see me to know me.
You have to touch my hand and
feel the warmth of my palms.
You have to touch my hair to
feel the softness of my soul.
i will that poet who orders plain
mineral water instead of beer.
I may wear a black coat but
there will be no white carnations
inside the pocket of my chest.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Picture Book
Picture yourself when youre getting old,
Sat by the fireside a-pondering on[? ].
Picture book, pictures of your mama, taken by your papa a long time ago.
Picture book, of people with each other, to prove they love each other a long ago.
Na, na, na, na, na na.
Na, na, na, na, na na.
Picture book.
Picture book.
A picture of you in your birthday suit,
You sat in the sun on a hot afternoon.
Picture book, your mama and your papa, and fat old uncle charlie out cruising with their friends.
Picture book, a holiday in august, outside a bed and breakfast in sunny southend.
Picture book, when you were just a baby, those days when you were happy, a long time ago.
Na, na, na, na, na na.
Na, na, na, na, na na.
Picture book.
Picture book.
Picture book.
Picture book.
Picture book,
Na, na, na, na na,
Na, na, na, na na,
A-scooby-dooby-doo.
Picture book,
Na, na, na, na na,
Na, na, na, na na,
A-scooby-dooby-doo.
Picture book, pictures of your mama, taken by your papa a long time ago.
Long time ago,
Long time ago,
Long time ago,
Long time ago,
Yeah, yeah, yeah.
song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Last Night You Sent A Picture
last night
you sent a picture
a face surrounded with flowers.
i sent mine
a face waiting for your body
in bed.
you sent another picture this time
it is your son saying
leave her alone and
so i sent a picture of my wife
kissing my lips and too saying
leave him alone
he is mine.
this morning you say
i'm sorry and i am wondering
if i have to send another picture
thru the MMS
saying: are you the mistress of the ruins?
sorry? what are you sorry for?
we have nothing. I am only giving you
what you ask. Just giving.
Not taking.
yes, not taking you
seriously. And you like it?
love this poem. Play me.
You still like toys. Toy me.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Degradation of a race
Black hair, black skin, black eyes,
Square face, square teeth, square chin,
Fleshy breasts, fleshy back and fleshy lips
Are features of Dravidian descendents.
Pale hair, pale skin, pale eyes,
Long face, long teeth, long nose,
Thin chest, thin locks and thin lips
Are features of Aryan descendents.
The former is flesh eating, lustful,
Emotion ridden and industrious.
The latter is grass-eating, lust tamed,
Manoeuvring and goal conscious.
Siva, Parvathi, Kali with Asuras
Are portrayed with Dravidian features.
Rama, Krishna, Lakshmi, Sarasvathi
With devas are of Aryan features.
All Itikas, Puranas and Epics depict thus.
They are held as holy scriptures
By both the races alike.
08.10.2000, Paralkemundi
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Big Picture
Going round the world
Dont know where were going
We dont even care
But you just cant be from someplace else
Unless you go somewhere
And were in the same boat
So as long as it floats
We might as well stop n stare
At the big picture
The big picture
Get the b-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-g picture
Were almost there
Were gonna keep on going
til that new age dawns
Always keeping an eye on the stars in the sky
In case one starts to fall
And were in the same boat
As the ones who cant float
So they might freak out and sink us all
And miss the big picture
(going round the world)
The big picture
(got to get it now)
Like a fish in the water
You dont know where youve been
til you jump out and take a look around
At the b-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-g picture
song performed by by Devo
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Come What May
(words & music by franklyn tableporter)
I am yours and you are mine, come what may
Love like ours remains divine, come what may
Even though we're miles apart
You're living in my lonely heart
At night the teardrops start and pour the long long day
I keep your picture near me since you went away
I plant a kiss upon your lips each night and day
Bear in mind and you will find a heart that is true
And i'll be here with you come what may
All right!
I keep your picture near me since you went away
I plant a kiss upon your lips each night and day
Bear in mind and you will find a heart that is true
And i'll be here with you come what may
And i'll be here with you come what may
And i'll be here with you come what may
Ah um bop a bop a um bop a bop a come what may
song performed by by Elvis Presley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Every Time I See Your Face
Every time I see your face
It is beautiful as flowers in vase
ERvery time I see your face
It is smooth as silk and lace
I see sunrise in your eyes
I see where the eagles flies
I see the stars in your eyes
I see where the mountains rise
Every time I liss your lips
This heart of mine flips
Every time I kiss your lips
I feel the joy of passion drips
I see sunrise, , , , , , , , , , ,
Every time I hold you close
You become poetry and prose
Every time I hold you close
I feel the fragraance of Rose
I see synrise, , , , , , , , , , ,
Every time you cokme near
My heart dances and cheers
Every time you come near
I see the love crystal clear
poem by Ashram Ashram
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Miss Yew
I cannot sleep
Are you hear with me
Did you just kiss me,
Do I have you in my arms,
Could you really be hear
Did you whisper 'I love you'
I turn around
Wonder where you are
Still hoping for your embrace,
You're not there.
So now, i close my eyes to picture your face
And as i fall to sleep dreaming of you.
It's as if I can really feel
Your kisses against my lips.
I'm yawning now!
Good night my sexy babe
Give me one more cuddle
Now I can sleep
poem by George Albot
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Can't Kiss You
I can't kiss you as one drop
my lips are a boat that loves to wave your ocean
I can't kiss you as one match
my lips are the matchbox that lights your lips' fire
I can't kiss you as one moment
my lips are the clock that loses its hours
I can't kiss you as one lips' graze
my lips like to write long carmine stories
I can't kiss you right now
my lips need a romantic cosiness
I wouldn't like just to kiss you
my lips would like to pad into your lips' flower
(eternity)
poem by Ata Augustyn
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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His Love Rejected
his pain is still there when she said no.
the pain of rejection
his pain spreads like cancer throughout his body.
he is sick, and he does not want to say a word about his pain.
he wants to continue living though as a matter of an obligation.
the parents that he loves, the friends that he likes to be with.
her picture.
yes her picture is the one left for him.
he gazes upon her lips and kisses them like he is a passionate lover
loved by her.
he touches her hair, her cheeks, her neck, he dreams of her body
and makes love with her.
it is all in the mind, he says to himself on dark nights.
he closes his eyes and dreams of her
inside his dream she becomes a dove
he looks at her but it will just be that
just that.
he devises no traps, or concocts magic potions so she may love him
in return, or cage so he may trap her in his sole gaze forever,
he keeps his hands on his side his feet on the right ground
he opens his heart like a window looking out to sea
he is in pain and keeps on chanting he loves this dove very much
but still, still even
inside his dream, he wants her to fly and be happy and be peaceful
and be so free
away from him.
he keeps his tears inside his pockets.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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At the Stage Door
Kicking my heels in the street,
Here at the edge of the pavement I wait for you, sweet,
Here in the crowd, the blent noises, blurred lights, of the street.
Under the archway sheer,
Sudden and black as a hole in the placarded wall,
Faces flicker and veer,
Wavering out of the darkness into the light,
Wavering back into night;
Under the archway, suddenly seen, the curls
And thin, bright faces of girls,
Roving eyes, and smiling lips, and the glance
Seeking, finding perchance,
Here at the edge of the pavement, there by the wall,
One face, out of them all.
Steadily, face after face,
Cheeks with the blush of the paint yet lingering, eyes
Still with their circle of black ...
But hers, but hers?
Rose-leaf cheeks, and flower-soft lips, and the grace
Of the vanishing Spring come back,
And a child's heart blithe in the sudden and sweet surprise,
Subtly expectant, that stirs
In the smile of her heart to my heart, of her eyes to my eyes
poem by Arthur Symons
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