A Helpless Situation
there is a fire in your room
the stairs are burned and the windows
have fallen to the ground
you are alone and all the while
there is only one imagination you have
in your mind
all the firemen are dead.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Poetics 3...
there is fire
and the room where you
live
for years is about to
be eaten
by its hot
insatiable tongue
you scream but
as usual
the firemen are not
coming
you open the windows
take one
exit
step upon the stairs
halfway
you jump into
your own salvation
the people are watching
you are naked
and they all clap
because
you finally decided
to save yourself
from that fire
that you yourself
invented...
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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A Stare
a stare is like a stair
it has steps
and there are feet
walking,
and leaving,
you stare at me,
and i see stairs, where you walk
and climb and stop at the middle
and then take the stairs layer by layer
that is what you like to do, to look at me
as though i am this room where you build the stairs
and you want to go inside my room and lock me up
and take all of me with your tongue and hands and
mouth. You mouth me. And i receive the life you have.
and then your stare subsides. the stair is gone.
the room vanishes. I am free. And you are inside me
your stare has become the memory lingering inside me.
i become a bird and you are inside my wings.
Your stairs become my feathers. Your stare
becomes my eyes.
in love, we make the stairs leading to a house.
and there we feast, and live and sleep.
yes, there are wings and windows.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Conversation of Prayer
The conversation of prayers about to be said
By the child going to bed and the man on the stairs
Who climbs to his dying love in her high room,
The one not caring to whom in his sleep he will move
And the other full of tears that she will be dead,
Turns in the dark on the sound they know will arise
Into the answering skies from the green ground,
From the man on the stairs and the child by his bed.
The sound about to be said in the two prayers
For the sleep in a safe land and the love who dies
Will be the same grief flying. Whom shall they calm?
Shall the child sleep unharmed or the man be crying?
The conversation of prayers about to be said
Turns on the quick and the dead, and the man on the stair
To-night shall find no dying but alive and warm
In the fire of his care his love in the high room.
And the child not caring to whom he climbs his prayer
Shall drown in a grief as deep as his made grave,
And mark the dark eyed wave, through the eyes of sleep,
Dragging him up the stairs to one who lies dead.
poem by Dylan Thomas
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Our Firemen
Lines delivered at a Firemen's Soiriee [sic] in the days of the hand engines.
Our youth and beauty here arranged,
In honor of the Fire Brigade ;
And now every man is ready
To obey the bugle of Brady.
And always willing for to ralley
At the trumpet sound of Walley,
To the fire they rush at once,
Led on by gallant Captain Vance.
The firemen, now, their only strife,
It seems to be a race for life,
Which engine first shall reach the fire
And cause the wild flames to expire.
poem by James McIntyre
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Baron Samedi
Ill show you man who walk on fire
And dont get burned
Dont get burned, dont get burned
He dont get burned
Ill show you man who tread on glass
And he dont get cut
Dont get cut, dont get cut
He dont get cut
You can take a knife and slit his throat
And he wont drop dead
Wont drop dead, wont drop dead
He wont drop dead
Been a ju-ju boy for a thousand years
And he aint cut yet
Aint cut yet, aint cut yet
He aint cut yet
Hold 'em
Youve got to crease 'em and fold 'em
Youve got to shape 'em and mould 'em
Take a piece of their soul man
Well he can take a little moonlight
Suck the poison from a snakebite
Movin round about midnight
Hes got the power of life
See the sacrifice of the virgin women
See the deadly snake and the headless chicken
Take a sip from dripping red
Make it with the living dead
Take you up when you feeling down
When youre sick he will come around
Takes his cures from out the ground
Hes the one who can hypnotize
And youll never believe your eyes
He can cause the dead to rise
song performed by by 10 Cc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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One can't rely on eyes, When Imagination is out of focus!
Eyes can't lie, as they are without
imagination.
When one perceives is hidden
behind cloud of his own
imagination,
How can a schizophrenic can recall who he is,
as seen by others! Mind and intellect when has their
own colours or have colour
blindness,
How can feel true colours of life? When imagination outfocus
senses,
When window is covered by
curtains,
How can one can look clearly at
the world? Room when fitted with filters
and deodarants,
How can one feel the enchanting
odour of soil on first rain fall?
What can be the beauty of
flower, or that flying butterfly to one
wearing coloured glass? When imagination fly above,
losing contact of ground,
The birds eye vision may be vast,
Yet lose minute details,
loses that nut and bolts which
can fit everything!
Never come to conclusion about
anyone,
Never allow prejudice to hold
your mind back,
Let imagination dance on solid
ground, Based on impartial observations!
Learn,
Every beautiful butterfly was
ugly, ever hungry worm before
its metamorphosis!
poem by Ramdas Bhandarkar
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The Disastrous Fire at Scarborough
'Twas in the year of 1898, and on the 8th of June,
A mother and six children met with a cruel doom
In one of the most fearful fires for some years past
And as the spectators gazed upon them they stood aghast
The fire broke out in a hairdresser's, in the town of Scarborough,
And as the fire spread it filled the people's hearts with sorrow;
But the police and the fire brigade were soon on the ground,
Then the hose and reel were quickly sent round.
Oh! it was horrible to see the flames leaping up all around,
While amongst the spectators the silence was profound,
As they saw a men climb out to the parapet high,
Resolved to save his life, or in the attempt to die!
And he gave one half frantic leap, with his heart full of woe,
And came down upon the roof of a public-house 20 feet below;
But, alas! he slipped and fell through the skylight,
And received cuts and bruises: oh, what a horrible sight!
He was the tenant of the premises, Mr Brookes,
And for his wife and family he enquires, with anxious looks,
But no one could tell him, it did appear,
And when told so adown his cheeks flowed many a tear.
He had been sleeping by himself on the second floor,
When suddenly alarmed, he thought he'd make sure,
And try to escape from the burning pile with his life,
And try and save his family and his wife.
The fire brigade played on the first door with greet speed,
But the flames had very inflammable fuel upon which to feed,
So that the fire spread with awful rapidity,
And in twenty minutes the building was doomed to the fourth storey.
The firemen wrought with might and main,
But still the fire did on them gain,
That it was two hours before they could reach the second floor,
The heat being so intense they could scarcely it endure.
And inside all the time a woman and six children were there,
And when the firemen saw them, in amazement they did stare;
The sight that met their eyes made them for to start
Oh, Heaven! the sight was sufficient to rend the strongest heart.
For there was Mrs Brookes stretched dead on the floor,
Who had fallen in trying her escape for to procure.
She was lying with one arm over her ten months old child,
And her cries for help, no doubt, were frantic and wild;
And part of her arm was burned off as it lay above
The child she was trying to shield, which shows a mother's love.
For the baby's flesh was partly uninjured by the flames,
Which shows that the loving mother had endured great pains;
It, however, met its death by suffocation,
And as the spectators gazed thereon, it filled their hearts with consternation.
The firemen acted heroicallv, without any dread,
And when they entered the back premises they found the six children dead;
But Mr Brookes, 'tis said, is still alive,
And I hope for many years he will survive.
Oh, Heaven! it is cruel to perish by fire,
Therefore let us be watchful before to our beds we retire,
And see that everything is in safe order before we fall asleep,
And pray that God o'er us in the night watch will keep.
poem by William Topaz McGonagall
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The Sound Of My Footsteps
i open the door
i enter this house
its windows closed
its chairs set aside
along the corners
of the corridors
the sound of my
shoes making
footsteps
reverberates
in the living room
it is like the lonely
poem you wrote
for me
footsteps taking
the stairs up the
second floor leading
to an empty room
nobody lives here
anymore
you explained
one day
this was a happy home
until all of them
were shot
dead, by the lone
gunner,
what was his name again?
you told me once
his name is loneliness
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Candle of Love
He was the fire...the fire to my burning candle
When I first recieved him he lit up my life
His flame burned vibrantly, it burned with care, and
it burned forever
Now that fire that once burned for me won't even
spark for me
Maybe its old, maybe I'm not lighting it right..or
maybe his flame is tired of my candle
poem by Octavia Tisdale
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The Night The Carousel Burnt Down
Werent you there when the carousel burned down
The fire and confusion, the smoke and the sound
I swear you were there when the carousel burned down
We were all around
The rings charred and tarnished all over the ground
And the heads hung down
And we all left town the next day
The children all cried when the carousel burned down
The old ladies sighed and the carousel burned down
The rest of us lied as the carousel burned down
And the flames did fly
The pipes steamed and shrieked out a blazing goodbye
As the boiler died
And they melted down the midway
And we all left town the next day
song performed by by Todd Rundgren
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Lockdown
Live face, live wars
Live final fallen shore.
Wise up down play.
Locked spine.
The spirits rule, lies down
Rip the cord, spent with the dead.
Lockdown.
Lockdown.
Life's pace. Crowds boss.
View the scum you'll cross.
We're burned in, we're burned out.
We're burned on the fire.
Relax, lie down.
Beg to a different crown.
Wise up, down play.
Locked spine.
The spirits rule, lies down
Rip the cord, spent with the dead.
Live face, live wars
Live final fallen shore.
Relax, lie down.
Beg to a different crown.
Lockdown west side
Sent to a distant land.
Wise up, down play.
Locked spine.
The spirits rule, lies down
Rip the cord, spent with the dead.
song performed by by Obituary
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Flask of Time
There is a single leaf flying
in this my autumn gloaming,
a leaf fluttering light
as if being orchestrated
by your words in flight
rushing to my inner ear;
'I have fallen in love
with another you said.'
My leaf stammered,
swaying in its downward flight
unable to remount the tree,
terrified to crash the ground
suspended forever there
as was also true of your words;
better to not reach my inner ear
better to not have my leaf touch down dead.
Between us all these years
neither war, nor peace;
we existed in the troubled middle ground
purgatoried, unsensed, fluttering, leaf bound
frozen between tree and ground.
Now you have burned our tree down-
lit the leaf and made it flame-
and pulled from under us the very ground.
No matter the dead leaves, the burning tree
no matter the absent ground
these things will
in turn return
for the seasons never-end.
Therefore, I shall take my sip of sorrow
sipped slowly from my Flask of Time
and await
the Spring.
poem by Lonnie Hicks
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They Will Flee
Rhapsody of fallen twilight soul
We blaze the sculpted Grecian myth
Roman states decayed into barbarism
Pay the price of the pleasure gods
Bacchus wild with sensuous fever
Saturn swirls with fallen angels
What’s in your closet?
The door opens by itself
We are not alone and they are cold
They are dead
Why do the stars shine so true?
She wears a golden lions head
Fierce like a mad gargoyle
Why are you afraid of the dark?
What’s in your room?
Children of the decadent hour laugh
They run with wolves
They parley with the dark prince
The immortal soul feels things
The stairs creak
Sometimes the dead linger
Sometimes devils prowl
She sleeps with the lights on
Say your prayers they will flee
poem by Joseph Narusiewicz
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Out Of The Frying Pan
out of the frying pan (and into the fire)
It's only two o'clock and the temperture's beginning to soar
And all around the city you see the walking wounded and the living dead
It's never been this hot and i've never been so bored
And breathing is just no fun anymore
And then i saw you like a summer dream
And you're the answer to every prayer that i ever said
I saw you like a summer dream
And you're the answer to every prayer that i ever said
You can feel the pulse of the pavement racing like a runaway horse
The subways are steaming and the skin of the street is gleaming with sweat
I've seen you sitting on the steps outside
And you were looking so restless and reckless and lost
I think it's time for you to come inside
I'll be waiting here with something that you'll never forget
I think it's time for you to come inside
I'll be waiting here with something that you'll never forget
Come on! come on!
And there'll be no turning back
You were only killing time and it'll kill you right back
Come on! come on!
It's time to burn up the fuse
You've got nothing to do and even less to lose
You've got nothing to do and even less to lose
So wander down the ancient hallway
Taking the stairs only one at a time
Follow the sound of my heartbeat now
I'm in the room at the top, you're at the end of the line
Open the door and lay down on the bed
The sun is just a ball of desire
And i wanna take you out of the frying pan (and into the fire)
Out of the frying pan (and into the fire)
Out of the frying pan (and into the fire)
And i wanna take you out of the frying pan (and into the fire)
Out of the frying pan (and into the fire)
Out of the frying pan (and into the fire)
And into the fire! fire! fire!
And into the fire! fire! fire!
And into the fire! fire! fire!
And into the fire!
It's only two o'clock and the tempertures beginning to soar
And all around the city you see the walking wounded and the living dead
It's never been this hot and i've never been so bored
And breathing is just no fun anymore
And then i saw you like a summer dream
And you're the answer to every prayer that i ever said
I saw you like a summer dream
And you're the answer to every prayer that i ever said
Come on! come on!
And there'll be no turning back
You were only killing time and it'll kill you right back
Come on! come on!
It's time to burn up the fuse
You've got nothing to do and even less to lose
You've got nothing to do and even less to lose
So wander down the ancient hallway
Taking the stairs only one at a time
Follow the sound of my heartbeat now
I'm in the room at the top, you're at the end of the line
Open the door and lay down on the bed
The sun is just a ball of desire
And i wanna take you out of the frying pan (and into the fire)
Out of the frying pan (and into the fire)
Out of the frying pan (and into the fire)
And i wanna take you out of the frying pan (and into the fire)
Out of the frying pan (and into the fire)
Out of the frying pan (and into the fire)
And into the fire! fire! fire!
And into the fire! fire! fire!
And into the fire! fire! fire!
And into the fire!
song performed by by Meat Loaf
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Law
I dont want knowledge
I want certainty
On the street
A man shouts out loud
A wallet drops
And money flies into the midday
Sun
With this sound
With this sound
With this sound mark the ground
Sure I get a little afraid -
Sometimes
Earthlings on fire
Earthlings on fire
Earthlings on fire
In a room a man drops dead
As he hits the floor he sighs
what a morning
With this sound
With this sound
With this sound mark the ground
Sure I get a little afraid -
Sometimes
Earthlings on fire
Earthlings on fire
song performed by by David Bowie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Law (Earthlings On Fire)
I dont want knowledge
I want certainty
On the street
A man shouts out loud
A wallet drops
And money flies into the midday
Sun
With this sound
With this sound
With this sound mark the ground
Sure I get a little afraid -
Sometimes
Earthlings on fire
Earthlings on fire
Earthlings on fire
In a room a man drops dead
As he hits the floor he sighs
what a morning
With this sound
With this sound
With this sound mark the ground
Sure I get a little afraid -
Sometimes
Earthlings on fire
Earthlings on fire
song performed by by David Bowie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Story Behind The Fire This Morning
before the house was razed by fire
the old man visited the house and cried
telling me about a young man who promised
that if he ever loves another woman
the house shall be burned
to strip it of its meaning
at 6: 30 today early morning the firemen
called it a day. The house is gone
The old man gone. The young man gone.
i like to write the story behind all these
misfortune
but i am afraid that some parts of it
may not be true
or that if true, it may not be fair at all,
or that it be totally unjust
so that there is no use
writing it anymore
The old woman died a year ago
She floated in air
suffered vertigo
she gave up finally
the young man to the world
heard the promise of the old man
who could not do anything
when the house
got burned.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Ring Of Fire (demo)
Love is a burning thing,
It makes a firey ring,
Bound by wild desire,
I fell in a ring of fire,
I fell into a burning ring of fire,
I went down, down, down and the flames went higher,
I burned, burned, burned,
A ring of fire, a ring of fire,
The taste of love is sweet,
And hearts like ours meet,
I fell for you just like a child,
And oh, the fire went wild,
I fell into a burning ring of fire,
I went down, down, down and the flames went higher,
And burned, burned, burned,
A ring of fire, a ring of fire,
I fell into a burning ring of fire,
I went down, down, down and the flames went higher,
And burned, burned, burned,
A ring of fire,
A ring of fire,
The taste of love is sweet,
And hearts like ours meet,
I fell for you just like a child,
And oh, the fire went wild,
I fell into a burning ring of fire,
I went down, down, down and the flames went higher,
And burned, burned, burned,
A ring of fire. (repeat, fade)
song performed by by Grace Jones
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ring Of Fire
Love is a burning thing,
It makes a firey ring,
Bound by wild desire,
I fell in a ring of fire,
I fell into a burning ring of fire,
I went down, down, down and the flames went higher,
I burned, burned, burned,
A ring of fire, a ring of fire,
The taste of love is sweet,
And hearts like ours meet,
I fell for you just like a child,
And oh, the fire went wild,
I fell into a burning ring of fire,
I went down, down, down and the flames went higher,
And burned, burned, burned,
A ring of fire, a ring of fire,
I fell into a burning ring of fire,
I went down, down, down and the flames went higher,
And burned, burned, burned,
A ring of fire,
A ring of fire,
The taste of love is sweet,
And hearts like ours meet,
I fell for you just like a child,
And oh, the fire went wild,
I fell into a burning ring of fire,
I went down, down, down and the flames went higher,
And burned, burned, burned,
A ring of fire. (repeat, fade)
song performed by by Grace Jones
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Towers, a nine Eleven poem
In my minds geography
The towers still stand tall.
They rise up from their common grave
And overawe the shore
Above the clouds the diners feast
At windows on the World
as swarms of chefs and waiters
hang on their every word
In my mind's eye, no bells need toll
As mourners read a name.
No firemen in bunker gear
race up the stairs in vain.
With eyes wide closed
Deny, deny, the fast approaching planes
Deny the bodies in the street
Deny the dust and flames
But they are gone and you are gone
And never will I hear
Your soft and sexy gentle voice
Or hold your body near
Late at night near Trinity
among the weathered stones
Do I hear the weeping of lost souls
-Or is it just the wind 's low moan?
poem by John F. McCullagh
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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