A Little Argument About What We Have Been Doing
these are just notes
of a journey
they are like stones that i
put upon
a boundary
sands that i spread
sometimes
over my body under the sun
these are just markings
of a page
but when you follow each note
each stone
each sand
and which could be so agonizing
and tiresome
then you will begin to see
what others have not yet seen
we shall call these not notes
or marking anymore
who knows, these are all
the lives
we all once had
and as they all tell you
there is no going back
because there is no end
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Related quotes
Music Notes
Music
The most beautiful thing I'll ever know
A music note
A note after another note
Composed to create sound
To create feelings
Thoughts
And emotion
Music notes are the most beautiful things I've ever seen
A note
Just a glance and u know
Knowing music is being created
Just the beauty of a music note
And the thing is
I can't read music notes
Just the sound the music notes make
poem by Aerin Andre
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Don Pedro: Nay, pray thee, come,
Or, if thou wilt hold longer argument,
Do it in notes.
Balthasar: Note this before my notes:
There’s not a note of mine that’s worth the noting.
line from Much Ado about Nothing, Act II, Scene 3 by William Shakespeare (1599)
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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Where Are My Songs?
Where are my songs?
I can't write them anymore.
My head can't hear them,
not like before.
They came so easy.
I heard them in my ear.
I thought about you
and all the notes were clear.
But now those notes
just don't seem to flow.
They've escaped into dissonance
and where did they go?
They went away in a flash
just like you.
Now that they're gone
there's nothing I can do.
I'll have to be inspired
in another way.
I'll listen for some new notes
on every single day.
And when they appear
I'll know that I am free.
Never again will I lose them
like you lost me.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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Unforgettable In Your Ear
There are notes in music
that take you high.
And notes that take you low.
When you listen to the notes of music
you never know where you'll go.
Within one song the notes you hear
affect how you will feel.
A plaintive melody might make you sad
or remind you of your pain.
But all of that can change in a minute
as you feel your emotions drain.
Uplifting notes can bring to you
a few moments of ecstatic peace.
Each inspiring strain can take you where
you are able to release
whatever it was that was troubling you,
erase it for a minute or two.
These notes are magic and so is life.
They're there and then they're not.
They're a gift to you from composers
that plant a forget-me-not.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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Notes
Primate, elemental, spontaneous and emotional;
The point of drunkeness is what i see around me,
But i do have my notes for you.
This is like the quasi-mystical secrets cilts,
And there arose the fear of the society;
But you have to cry for help when being cheated!
With others living in a turquoise-roofed temples,
Because the notes of this world are not always equal.
Geomancy and physiognomy with the notes,
But be very conscious of the parallels like the mandates of the heavens! !
For they are armed to the teeth and i am only around with my ink,
But i do have the notes about this world for you only to learn from.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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My payroll, pulse and the puncture
Oh! it's a sad tune as usual
When I touch these colored notes
The burning sensation what a pity?
My poor lungs try to fill happy air,
But always a puncture along this tiresome journey from a cruel thorn?
I am not a stripling to bear this stretch
And this tattered piece would break if you pull fast.
* The annoyed alarm clock wakes me up to fight with the life.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Another Day
What seems like such a winter's tale
Lightening runs through the fallen flames
By kneeling down we're here to pray
At that point forsaken unafraid
I only wanna feel you being strong
I only wanna feel you being strong
Call me up and let's begin
Call me up and let's begin
Another day
Call me up and let's begin
Call me up and let's begin
You done that to me
Feel my breath go cold and calm
My pride is last and I sin again
And all the seasons change their scent
A year of hell they come against my head once more
I only wanna feel you being strong
I only wanna feel you being strong
Call me up and let's begin
Call me up and let's begin
Another day
Call me up and let's begin
Call me up and let's begin
You done that to me
INSTRUMENTAL
Call me up and let's begin
Call me up and let's begin
Another day
Call me up and let's begin
Call me up and let's begin
You done that to me
Call me up and let's begin
Call me up and let's begin
Another day
Call me up and let's begin
Call me up and let's begin
You done that to me
Call me up and let's begin
Call me up and let's begin
Another day
Call me up and let's begin
Call me up and let's begin
You done that to me
song performed by by Texas
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Another Day
What seems like such a winter's tale
Lightening runs through the fallen flames
By kneeling down we're here to pray
At that point forsaken unafraid
I only wanna feel you being strong
I only wanna feel you being strong
Call me up and let's begin
Call me up and let's begin
Another day
Call me up and let's begin
Call me up and let's begin
You done that to me
Feel my breath go cold and calm
My pride is last and I sin again
And all the seasons change their scent
A year of hell they come against my head once more
I only wanna feel you being strong
I only wanna feel you being strong
Call me up and let's begin
Call me up and let's begin
Another day
Call me up and let's begin
Call me up and let's begin
You done that to me
INSTRUMENTAL
Call me up and let's begin
Call me up and let's begin
Another day
Call me up and let's begin
Call me up and let's begin
You done that to me
Call me up and let's begin
Call me up and let's begin
Another day
Call me up and let's begin
Call me up and let's begin
You done that to me
Call me up and let's begin
Call me up and let's begin
Another day
Call me up and let's begin
Call me up and let's begin
You done that to me
song performed by by Texas
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Memory
Soon the waves so lightly bounding
All forget the tempest blast;
Soon the pines so sadly sounding
Cease to mourn the storm that's past.
Soon is hushed the voice of gladness
Heard within the green wood's breast;
Yet come back no notes of sadness,
No remembrance breaks its rest.
But the heart,—how fond t'will treasure
Every note of grief and joy!
Oft come back the notes of pleasure,
Grief's sad echoes oft annoy.
There still dwell the looks that vanish
Swift as brightness of a dream;
Time in vain earth's smiles may banish,
There undying still they beam.
poem by Jones Very
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Production Line
much is much and
so many is like sand sprawling
on the shore... so much so many
and one who lays her body on
the sandy shore
takes sand for granted just another
part of this mass production of
things in her ordinary world: rocks, pebbles, stones,
sands,
what value can there be on a speck of dust
a grain of sand
becomes like her sun, too ordinary for her sunburn-skin
what's got the sun to do with me?
or the sand?
her sunglasses speak for her
in the middle of her empty hours
basking under the sun
production some times, so much for so many
meaninglessness growing like fruits of the poisonous tree
i could have kept one, just one
kept it inside my heart, i could have known what is precious,
diamond, just one,
glittering in the darkest hour of my night.
but there is no one really, all i have are mass produced, and
like sand, i lay my body on the shore, spreading so thinly without
feelings.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Interlude: Songs out of Sorrow
I. Spirit's House
From naked stones of agony
I will build a house for me;
As a mason all alone
I will raise it, stone by stone,
And every stone where I have bled
Will show a sign of dusky red.
I have not gone the way in vain,
For I have good of all my pain;
My spirit's quiet house will be
Built of naked stones I trod
On roads where I lost sight of God.
II. Mastery
I would not have a god come in
To shield me suddenly from sin,
And set my house of life to rights;
Nor angels with bright burning wings
Ordering my earthly thoughts and things;
Rather my own frail guttering lights
Wind blown and nearly beaten out;
Rather the terror of the nights
And long, sick groping after doubt;
Rather be lost than let my soul
Slip vaguely from my own control --
Of my own spirit let me be
In sole though feeble mastery.
III. Lessons
Unless I learn to ask no help
From any other soul but mine,
To seek no strength in waving reeds
Nor shade beneath a straggling pine;
Unless I learn to look at Grief
Unshrinking from her tear-blind eyes,
And take from Pleasure fearlessly
Whatever gifts will make me wise --
Unless I learn these things on earth,
Why was I ever given birth?
IV. Wisdom
When I have ceased to break my wings
Against the faultiness of things,
And learned that compromises wait
Behind each hardly opened gate,
When I can look Life in the eyes,
Grown calm and very coldly wise,
Life will have given me the Truth,
And taken in exchange -- my youth.
V. In a Burying Ground
This is the spot where I will lie
When life has had enough of me,
These are the grasses that will blow
Above me like a living sea.
These gay old lilies will not shrink
To draw their life from death of mine,
And I will give my body's fire
To make blue flowers on this vine.
"O Soul," I said, "have you no tears?
Was not the body dear to you?"
I heard my soul say carelessly,
"The myrtle flowers will grow more blue."
VI. Wood Song
I heard a wood thrush in the dusk
Twirl three notes and make a star --
My heart that walked with bitterness
Came back from very far.
Three shining notes were all he had,
And yet they made a starry call --
I caught life back against my breast
And kissed it, scars and all.
VII. Refuge
From my spirit's gray defeat,
From my pulse's flagging beat,
From my hopes that turned to sand
Sifting through my close-clenched hand,
From my own fault's slavery,
If I can sing, I still am free.
For with my singing I can make
A refuge for my spirit's sake,
A house of shining words, to be
My fragile immortality.
poem by Sara Teasdale
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Reflection 0.2
when you arrive here
there is no stone not a single stone
there is no moss not a single hair of a green moss
then there was the pain of waiting
time is always delaying its coming
trains stopped and cars are having flat tires
but you are faithful you keep on waiting you entertain promises
like dear memories or dreams or wishes that come true somehow
and you waited for so long
now this place is filled with stones and moss grow in each body of the stone
the waters spread their territories and land is emaciated
and the house is covered with water and the roof is gone
and there is nobody here anymore and it is only i who remember you and
i tell them about you and they do not believe me
and i feel like i am a ship that just sunk.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Lifes highway code...
We are each on our own great journey,
Along the highway of life we travel.
There are many paths that we can choose,
And we watch as our choices unravel.
We all reach crossroads on our journey,
But which way should we proceed?
The choices we make and direction we take,
Should equal our hearts deepest need.
With no signs or markings no clues or pointers,
To help us choose our track.
Once travelling that road the choice is made,
There's no point in looking back.
But more junctions and sliproads lay ahead for us,
Our choices are never an ending.
If we take a wrong turn we can correct our mistake,
A new choice is always pending.
Sometimes our soul's touch and we travel together,
Down the highway of our life.
Along unmarked paths together we walk,
When united we can conquer any strife.
Each step we take a memory we make,
That teaches us countless things.
The further we go the wiser we grow,
As we learn what the future brings.
So journey with hope through an ever changing world,
Along this lifes great road.
When we spread peace and love this lesson we learn,
We should obey lifes highway code...
Spread the love... The peace will follow...
poem by Cosmic Dreamer
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Piano
hearstrings of mom
in the centre of house
sublime notes from fingers
she had curved her love into
spread out now over black and white
to reciprocate her affections
light, tender touch soothing a heart
that has prayed for these notes from heaven
a piano that receives the applause
and all my dreams in graceful quiet
a million solid well wishes in her chamber
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Follow Your Saint
1 Follow your saint, follow with accents sweet;
2 Haste you, sad notes, fall at her flying feet.
3 There, wrapp'd in cloud of sorrow, pity move,
4 And tell the ravisher of my soul I perish for her love:
5 But if she scorns my never-ceasing pain,
6 Then burst with sighing in her sight and ne'er return again.
7 All that I sung still to her praise did tend,
8 Still she was first; still she my songs did end;
9 Yet she my love and music both doth fly,
10 The music that her echo is and beauty's sympathy.
11 Then let my notes pursue her scornful flight:
12 It shall suffice that they were breath'd and died for her delight.
poem by Thomas Campion
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Devotion ii
FOLLOW your saint, follow with accents sweet!
Haste you, sad notes, fall at her flying feet!
There, wrapt in cloud of sorrow, pity move,
And tell the ravisher of my soul I perish for her love:
But if she scorns my never-ceasing pain,
Then burst with sighing in her sight, and ne'er return again!
All that I sung still to her praise did tend;
Still she was first, still she my songs did end;
Yet she my love and music both doth fly,
The music that her echo is and beauty's sympathy:
Then let my notes pursue her scornful flight!
It shall suffice that they were breathed and died for her delight.
poem by Thomas Campion
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Same Words They Heard
It is said.
And said again.
The more of it that is heard...
Less of it is understood.
Although those sitting in the back,
Claim they are taking notes.
And wish to have what has been said,
Repeated.
Even though the notes they take...
Are the same words they heard,
Before they were issued pads and pens.
They now want to show others...
How effectively they can use them,
To their advantage.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Visiting Something Previous
you take a trip
back to the place where meaning was once
there. An empty room that you left.
Now someone lives there and he does not know your name,
there will be a brief introduction
of who you are and what you do for a living
and he will ask why you have come back
you say that you are just passing by
you are looking for the word
the spark in your heart
somewhere on the study table
or on the book shelf
a poem, some little notes on the wall,
there is nothing there anymore
exept the scent of the nearby comfort room
beside your room
that stink that made you leave
it was that which made you pass by
as you were telling the new tenant.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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iN dAKAK
We are here in this island
at the back the surrounding mountains
a little near the woods and bushes
we hear the birds singing this morning
it is eight o'clock in the morning
you walk along the coastline
as i watch you
i lay my body on a swing tied
between two coconut trees
under this big pitogo tree
i bathe in air and hear the hush of a
certain longing
it is so peaceful here
the clouds are bluer than in the city
do not ask me why
the sea is like a pastel blue blanket
spread in bed
the silence runs on the white sand
the hermit crabs run and stop and run
i can hear the crumpling of the castles in the sand
last night we built them
i put my buri hat hiding my hair and covering part
of my forehead
the leaves fall inside my mind
there are certain notes of sadness trickling
inside my heart
a cascading loneliness
my ears are hearing them
my arms till now cannot embrace
i do not doubt it
here is this paradise even with her
i still long for you
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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When I start getting close to the end of a novel, something registers in the back of my mind for the next novel, so that I usually don't write, or take notes. And I certainly don't begin. I just allow things to percolate for a while.
quote by Richard Russo
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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