A Beautiful Day (2)
no rain
dews have dried up
no ripples from the pond
air still
leaves are glossing
to the sun
sky is clear
fogs gone
the window opens
to the garden
of daffodils
the sea is silky blue
no foams
seagulls fly to the north
boats sail to
deep oceans
the ants gather
morsels
and the grasshoppers
and crickets
join in the singing
welcome a brighter new day
for the darkness is gone
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Rain
(rock the joint)
Me i'm supa fly (uh-huh)
Supa dupa fly (uh-huh)
Supa dupa fly
{singing} i can't stand the rain!
(uh) me i'm supa fly (uh-huh)
{singing} 'gainst my window
Supa dupa fly (uh-huh)
Supa dupa fly
{singing} i can't stand the rain!
(uh) me i'm supa fly (uh-huh)
{singing} 'gainst my window
Supa dupa fly (uh-huh)
Supa dupa fly
{singing} i can't stand the rain!
(uh-huh) me i'm supa fly (uh-huh)
{singing} 'gainst my window
When the rain hits my window
I take and {inhale, cough} me some indo
Me and timbaland, ooh, we sang a jangle
We so tight, that you get our styles tango
Sway on dosie-do like you loco
{singing} can we get kinky tonight?
Like coco, so-so
You don't wanna play with my yo-yo
I smoke my hydro on the dee-low
{singing} i can't stand the rain! (uh-huh, uh-huh)
{singing} 'gainst my window (against my window)
{singing} i can't stand the rain! (uh-huh, uh-huh)
{singing} 'gainst my window (against my window)
{singing} i can't stand the rain! (uh-huh, uh-huh)
{singing} 'gainst my window (against my window)
{singing} i can't stand the rain! (uh-huh, uh-huh)
{singing} 'gainst my window (say what?)
Yeah..
Beep beep, who got the keys to the jeep? v-r-rrrrrrrooooom!
(uh-huh) i'm drivin to the beach
Top down, loud sounds, see my peeps (uhh)
Give them pounds, now look who it be (who it be)
It be me me me and timothy (me me!)
Look like it's bout to rain, what a shame (uh-huh)
I got the armor-all to shine up the stain
Oh missy, try to maintain
Icky-icky-icky-icky-icky-icky-icky..
{singing} i can't stand the rain! (uh-huh, uh-huh)
(uh-huh)
{singing} i can't stand the rain! (say what? uh-huh, uh-huh)
{singing} 'gainst my window (uh-huh)
{singing} i can't stand the rain! (uh-huh, uh-huh)
{singing} 'gainst my window (yeah)
{singing} i can't stand the rain! (uh-huh, uh-huh)
{singing} 'gainst my window (uh-huh)
{singing} i can't stand the rain!
I feel the wind
Five six seven, eight nine ten
Begin, i sit on hill's like lauryn
Until the rain starts, comin down, pourin
Chill, i got my umbrella
My finger waves be dazed, they fall like humpty
Chumpy, i break up with him before he dump me
To have me yes you lucky
{singing} i can't stand the rain! (ha, uhh)
{singing} 'gainst my window (uh-huh)
{singing} i can't stand the rain! (uh-huh, uh-huh)
{singing} 'gainst my window (against my window)
{singing} i can't stand the rain! (uh-huh)
{singing} 'gainst my window (what?)
{singing} i can't stand the rain! (uh-huh, uh-huh)
{singing} 'gainst my window (uh)
{singing} i can't stand the rain! (what?)
(like that baby)
{singing} i can't stand the rain! (can you stand the rain?)
(uh-huh, stand the rain)
{singing} i can't stand the rain! (what?)
(can you stand the rain?)
{singing} i can't stand the rain! (can you stand the rain?)
(uh-huh, can you stand the rain?)
{singing} i can't stand the rain! (what?)
{singing} 'gainst my window (uh-huh)
{singing} i can't stand the rain!
{singing} 'gainst my window (huh)
{singing} i can't stand the rain! (hmm..)
{singing} 'gainst my window (yo)
{singing} i can't stand the rain! (why not, break it down like dat)
{singing} 'gainst my window (break it down baby)
{singing} i can't stand the rain! (uh-huh)
(yeah like that, uh-huh)
{singing} i can't stand the rain! (uh, huh)
(uhh.. misdemeanor)
{singing} i can't stand the rain! ..
{singing} i can't stand the rain! .. * fades out *
song performed by by Missy Elliott
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sailing In Your Eyes
Sail with you in your oceans of blue
feel the endless waves of joyful and painful tears on my skin
this journey for me now endless
as I sail with you in your oceans of blue
though the ship may list
water may threaten
drowning of me sometimes your thought
I will sail with you in your oceans of blue
your eyes truly the windows journey to your soul
poem by Vincent Armone
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Deep Forbidden Lake
On the lake, the deep forbidden lake,
The old boats go gliding by,
And the leaves are falling from the trees
And landing on the logs and i
See the turtles heading for the bog
And falling off the log.
They make the water splash,
And feeling no backlash,
They climb the happy banks.
On the boats, the old and creaky boats,
The shoreline goes gliding by,
And the wind, there was a dying breeze,
Is making the banners fly.
See the colors, floating in the sky,
The pride of the captains eye,
As he glides
His slender craft inside
And opens up the door.
On the coast, the long and tempting coast,
The cards on the table lie,
And a speech, so eloquent in reach,
Was made by a passerby,
Passing by the way between
Here and left behind.
And it ripples through the crowds
Who run and cast their doubts
In the deep forbidden lake.
Yes, it echoes through the crowds
Who run and cast their doubts
In the deep forbidden lake.
song performed by by Neil Young
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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At Lambert's Bay The Fishing Trawlers Sail Out
At Lambert's Bay the fishing trawlers sail out
where clouds of smoke hang over the boats
while the rain pours down in buckets.
The waves hit, the sea foams and bubble,
it looks as if a storm is rising
and 'my girlfriend has a fine fellow, '
one sings in darkness before he starts whistling
where clouds of smoke hang over the boats.
At Lambert's Bay the fishing trawlers sail out
seeking snoek, cod and sea-trout
and the boat turns to get out fishing gear,
it looks as if a storm is rising
and the men wait on the sea's first gifts
with rain like only God's hosepipe brings
while the rain pours down in buckets.
'Look at that shining bodies, tons of trout, they are running free, '
the song continues and something falls down
and the boat turns to get out fishing gear,
with engines roaring loudly
every fisherman is caught for a moment.
At Lambert's Bay the fishing trawlers sail out
'my girlfriend has a fine fellow and he is a wild goat, '
one sings against the wind with more joining voices,
the song continues and something falls down
and the tiller-man wonders about the sudden rain
but the fishermen are catching
while the rain pours down in buckets
they are standing ready but half-blinded
'Where are we going on the wide, wide sea'
one sings against the wind with more joining voices,
gigantic waves hits and pulls the boat
and some fishermen are scared.
At Lambert's Bay the fishing trawlers sail out
while the rain pours down in buckets
while the fishermen sing their song:
'The waves hit, the sea foams and bubble, '
'where are we going on the wide, wide sea'
and 'my girlfriend has a fine fellow.'
[Reference: Barracouta is known in South-Africa as 'snoek.']
poem by Gert Strydom
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Another Dusk
like distant boats at sea
not wanting touches of foams and sand
i lie here in this strangeness
of beach and bench
sunburned and feigning to be happy
in the cottage there is a woman
far from me
she knows what is it in me that closes and opens
nothing but doors
all the groans and moans she make
are unnecessary
the grunts and punches
she could be thinking of another town
or another man
her eyes as you see may be filled
with wounds
pain stings her like red ants
i watch her and then i step forward
to meet another dusk
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Crickets
under the leaves
the crickets are singing
non-stopping
tonight the crickets
will continue singing
lulling me to sleep
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Inside A Crowded Room
inside a crowded room
are litters
waste papers, mongol pencils
on the floor,
crumpled sheets of bond paper
paper glasses, and used plastic spoons
a chicken bone
dried catchup and
morsels of bread that the ants
start to take away
light has entered the slits
of the walls
this early morning
it is humid and dark
and i am bringing this white
porcelain vase
put it some water
not filling it to the brim
i have this red rose
that i pick from the garden
i put it there
i open the window
what is it? my friend
i let delight enter the crowded room
and i want it to stay there for a while.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Memories in Water
Water ripples across a clear fountain blue,
Pennies the wishes of a new yesteryear,
The waves of the ocean washes its tide,
Taking with it the sands of oysters still,
The ocean deep, the blue as dark yet,
Getting darker, the ships of yesteryear living with regret,
The water only remembering the cutting of the ships,
As they cast over their nets.
Water falls from a sodden sky,
The shape of the tears to gather with the tide,
The deep of the water: silk to the skin,
Shall bury itself deep into the sands of time.
The tides of the ocean with its bare seas cries,
The forgotten memories of another time,
Telling its tale of each fisherman it brought with its tide.
Each teardropp of rain the clouds bring with grey skies,
Shall dampen each sunshine ray,
And with joy bring a rainbow to shine,
The rainbow in joyous colour opening up the sky,
The clouds forgetting each tear it had fallen from the sky,
Opens up its gaps, the sun's rays spreading wide,
The stillness of the water once again reflecting the light.
poem by Paula Glynn
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Liebestraum
ripples of the clear pond
a white swan
dignified to its own interpretation
of flight
tiny leaves from cypress trees
browning
the earth still so usual to its deep
silence
the last note is played on the piano
a little bird jumps out
from my hair and begins to sing
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Divided Sea
after the flood subsides
the sea becomes divided
at the tip is deep blue
near the shore is the paleness
of the brown river
still confused
about what to do
somehow
the parting is gone
now the sea
is confident again
in peace
in the depths of its
blueness
in the joys of its
foams
as the seagulls dive
for its bountiful
fish
once again
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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What Happened....
there were sparrows
they hovered upon the mansanita that i planted
they did not stay there for long
they left
even before the dew on the morning grass has dried
that was what happened
and what stayed was only the white rose in my garden
but sometimes i think
if it has also a pair of strong wings
and a close ally of the winds
in the same manner
it would have left me for good
things are not as smooth as you see it
things like these happen
learning always from departures
but just the same
still finding love where tracks still remain
i gaze upon the little pond inside my heart
there are no more ripples
the leaves that fall there recently
are sleeping.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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On Another Day
A lone white sail boat
Slowly gliding south-wards.
The mournful cry of the seagull,
Soon swallowed into fog's belly
Camouflaging my world with so much easy.
Such a gray day it is!
Rain! Rain! Rain!
All day long showers fall unabated;
Mother earth quenches her thirsty.
Outside the wind whistles,
Caressing mother earth's gonads;
Leaves rattle on the ground;
The wind continues on its secret journey:
Area of origin and destination details unknown,
Yet for centuries untouched it has blown.
The rain has stopped.
Stars shine brightly
And the crickets never stop singing.
poem by Tafadzwa Matamba
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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
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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 Hidden Pond
There's a little ribbon snake,
Swimming in the hidden pond.
To him it's one of the Great Lakes,
Of his watery home he is so fond.
He's swimming towards a lilly pad,
Where sits a sleeping leopard frog.
Dozing on her spongy bed,
In the early morning fog.
Dragonflys buzz all around,
In the early morning light.
They never get close to the ground,
Once their gossamer wings take flight.
Crickets chirp, and minnows swim,
The hidden pond is full of life.
Long legged spiders skip and skim,
Perch cut the water like a knife.
Another day on hidden pond,
Grasshoppers leaping to and fro.
Clinging to the cattails and the fronds,
As the perch keep hoping, down below.
8/25/10 Alton Texas
poem by Juan Olivarez
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Early Morning Scenario
the frogs are singing
gratitude for the heavy rain last night
the pond has ripples
some fish jump with joy
the trees are tall and fresh
the rainbow appears
the grasses are still filled with dew
disturbed by a little bird that flew
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Ripples
Bluegirls come in every size
Some are wise and some otherwise,
They got pretty blue eyes.
For an hour a man may change
For an hour her face looks strange -
Looks strange, looks strange.
Marching to the promised land
Where the honey flows and takes you by the hand,
Pulls you down on your knees,
While youre down a pool appears.
The face in the water looks up,
And she shakes her head as if to say
That its the last time youll look like today.
Sail away, away
Ripples never come back.
Gone to the other side.
Sail away, away.
The face that launched a thousand ships
Is sinking fast, that happens you know,
The water gets below.
Seems not very long ago
Lovelier she was than any that I know.
Angels never know its time
To close the book and gracefully decline,
The song has found a tale.
My, what a jealous pool is she.
The face in the water looks up
She shakes her head as if to say
That the bluegirls have all gone away.
Sail away, away
Ripples never come back.
Theyve gone to the other side.
Look into the pool,
Ripples never come back,
Dive to the bottom and go to the top
To see where they have gone
Oh, theyve gone to the other side...
Sail away, away
Ripples never come back.
Gone to the other side.
Look into the pool,
The ripples never come back, come back,
Dive to the bottom and go to the top
To see where they have gone
Theyve gone to the other side
Ripples never come back
Sail away, away...
song performed by by Genesis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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It’s quiet, very quiet in the veldt
It’s quiet, very quiet in the veldt
even the crickets and grasshoppers
are without sound
and the chopper drones away
leaving me and Johnny
and a few other men
with a Bushmen tracker
to follow a enemy spoor
and suddenly we walk straight in
to a ambush, right into a trap
and Johnny is dead, shot through the head
and three others as well and it feels as if I am in hell
and I am talking to myself
trying to get my bearings while firing at the enemy,
killing some and throwing two grenades
to advice them of my serious intentions
and the enemy shooting stops, as does that
of me and my men and I smell death
and are nauseous to the point of retching
and it’s quiet, very quiet in the veldt
even the crickets and grasshoppers
are without sound.
poem by Gert Strydom
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159
On the daffodils
The morning dews
Dry out slowly
Now, blow if you will
Humid wind
The daffodils are gone
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Daffodils Are Gone
On the daffodils
The morning dews
Dry out slowly
Now, blow if you will
Humid wind
The daffodils are gone
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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