A Rock Garden
in my present garden
i put rocks and pebbles
some sands
added dusts
they ask what do i grow
in there?
i put a chair and sit there
alone
barefoot i put my hands
in the open
i gaze
feeling like the sun
to some
planets
the stones as i walk
for a while
grate
as though they have
teeth
then back to where i sit
they begin
to grow silence
silence is a lotus
it is a pond too where
a dragonfly is
hovering
there is this stillness of a
little universe
the space is emptiness
of imaginary
stars
there is no moon here
no one is lost
there are no leaves
no pretensions of stems and calyx
the stones are faceless
like everyone that i meet in the mall
the rocks stand like gods
unchanged unaffected by the chaos of
my thoughts
i gaze
transfer my eyes to those that remain
intact
immutable hardness
fixed situations
they only sound when you take a walk
they do not rearrange things here
for they are heavy
and always
unchanged, unaffected
steady, firm
lifeless, unfeeling
stubborn, solid,
tonight darkness sleeps with them
its coldness seeps in every stone
lifelessly
always unaffected, unfeeling
and much as i wanted to stay
i can't
i have life out there
a door to open again and again...
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Related quotes
Unaffected
there never seems to be, because what i believe, a moment i'm not trying
to show them who i am, why can't they understand the things that
they're denying?
they're denying...
so what should i do, just lay next to you as though i'm unaffected?
and who should i be when they're judging me as though i'm unaffected?
a chance they'd never give to ever want to live the life that i am made of
theres nothing left to prove, my heart's forever true, what is it they're
afraid of?
afraid of....
so what should i do, just lay next to you as though i'm unaffected?
and who should i be when they're judging me as though i'm unaffected?
before they even saw my face they knew that i was not the same
and decided i was not the one for you, for you...
so what should i do? i'm not unaffected
and who should i be? i'm not unaffected
so what should i do, just lay next to you as though i'm unaffected?
and who should i be when they're judging me as though i'm unaffected?
unaffected.......
song performed by by Hoobastank
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Blame It On God
i hear the clamor,
i feel the roar.
waves pounding against the rocks,
bare feet walking the tiny cell.
the lies we've told
much less than the lies we've become.
blame it on god,
and kill the insurrection.
for every bite we take,
another does without.
for every turn of the page,
another grave is dug.
we pray to war,
afraid to sleep by ourselves.
and borrow from the darkness,
to silence the dawn.
even the children of hate,
cry, shit, and need.
we throw rocks at the dogs,
smoke churning from the stack.
with blood on our lips,
we recite the faceless chant.
walk away from the fires,
cold and unaffected.
god shakes the lice from her head,
covering bodies with ashes and dirt.
rocks the orphan in stillness,
feeds the begger from her breasts.
cleans the urine and pus,
from the old woman dying.
holds the shaking addict,
hears the murderer's prayer.
fills the bowls of the hungry,
covers the homeless with blankets.
sits all night in the cell
of the falsely condemned.
walks like moonlight
through the barelimbed trees,
to stand outside your window...
or could it be just the wind?
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The old man and his stone
an old man
seated alone
on his stone bench
invited me
almost invisible
gesticulating with his hand
sit down beside me
we did not say a word
together we just heard
nothing but our silence
he invited me
to take a look in his garden
he took me by my hand
guiding me
through the open gate
he gave me a grand tour
in his Japanese paradise
and wanted to know
if I would be able
to show him
that spot
he was searching for
all his life
so he could also see
all the larger stones
at once
I'll wait
and watch you
I stood
I sat down
I climbed a tree
while being up there
I could see
a smile on his face
expressing understanding grace
I walked around
accompanied
by the sound
of crackling shelves
I can count endlessly
maybe even further
In that serene garden
I could not find the spot
that place where I could see
all his stones
although I learned
during that search
there were fifteen different larger stones
that unknown space
where I see and count
the old man's 15th stone
there I was on my own
still searching
it was late
at last I returned
sat down beside the old man
on the other stone bench
he offered me his silence
and told me with his eyes
that a man or a woman
is wise
when admitting
accepting
a simple fact
you can see
you can count
all the stones
not at once
not on your own
©Ellie Daphne van Stralen 2012
poem by Ellie Daphne van Stralen
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Observations Of The Man With A Broken Heart Spending Summer In A Getaway Beach
mother finally decided
to transfer his son to another
school in the busy city
there was something that she saw
and she did not like it
the son knows it
but like her says nothing about it
all the people saw it
but no one dares to mention it
taboos are silent pebbles
gritting to the coldness of the waves
not hurting to the eyes
but the ears are intolerant
it is during summer
that the pebbles begin to wear their angry eyes
the sands borrow the glitter of diamonds
the air is humid like a frigid woman
the trees shed off leaves
and grasses begin to wilt
the sea in its silence
has told more stories than the babbling kid
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Journey You Must Take...
i often wonder...
if i'm preaching to the choir,
skimming rocks across a lake,
building kingdoms in the sand.
do you hear what i'm hearing?
do you feel the shudder, and the shake?
do you lie sleepless in the night?
do you walk barefoot into the darkness?
are my words made of stone?
of feathers? of dust?
is my heart an open door,
with no knob, no lock, no key?
i cannot hold the wind
in my old hands...
i know, for i have tried!
nor capture moonlight in a bowl.
i am nothing but a shell,
holding the echoes to your ears.
the sound of the flute,
and the sound of your hearts...
a journey you must take!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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A Stone Garden
in the middle of this
garden there are two rocks
one is smaller
around them are
pebbles and some scattered sands
what you plant here is
the seed of silence
tomorrow when you come back
you shall know what are its fruits
its leaves are not green and its
roots are for your liking
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Your Feet On Top Of The Stone On The River
you put your feet
on top of a stone
on a clear river
you want to feel
the stability of
love
the hardness of
a foundation
you want to be on
top of the
situation where
the water flows
and you
on that stone
becomes
unaffected
you let time flow
like water
you let yourself
steady like
your feet unmoved
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Stones Throw
I was a stones throw
From happiness
Feeling love grow in your caress
It was like nothing
I had felt or seen
And I waited impatiently
Oh, stones throw
And I cant stand to see you go
You hurt me bad, cut me down
But it just dont work without you
Without you around
It was a short walk
Now its a lonely ride
It turned my day
Into a lifeless night
It was my belief and
Now its my regret
Ive got a one way ticket
That I cant accept
Oh, just a stones throw
And I cant stand to see you go
You hurt me bad
You cut me down
But it just dont work without you
Without, without, without
Without you around
Oh, stones throw
And I cant stand to see you go
You hurt me bad, cut me down
But it just dont work without you
Gotta have you around
Gotta have you around ...
song performed by by Uriah Heep
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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They Come To Go
These times are moving too rapidly,
For anyone to perceive they can keep moments...
Once experienced from a past preserved.
To remain unchanged.
Whether or not attempts are made,
To hold onto them as tightly as possible.
They can be discussed on a daily basis.
Or ignored as they speed away.
These days that we have been given to witness,
Will be better off lived...
Then reminiscing how they were,
And what was done.
Too many will discover themselves lost,
In the things they once did.
And not prepare their minds for what comes,
With maintained faith and not delusions.
These times are moving too rapidly,
For anyone to perceive they can keep moments...
Once experienced from a past preserved.
To remain unchanged.
And fixed to keep them revisited.
Especially when those changes made,
Aren't here to stay for anyone.
They come to go.
With no empathy shown,
To those who don't grow.
For anyone to perceive they can keep moments...
Once experienced from a past preserved.
To remain unchanged.
And fixed to keep them revisited...
To live and adjust as they must.
Will discover all their beliefs,
Dusted.
These times are moving too rapidly,
For anyone to perceive they can keep moments...
Once experienced from a past preserved.
To remain unchanged.
Whether or not attempts are made,
To hold onto them as tightly as possible.
A letting go,
Is the best thing to do to experience growth.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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One Evening
one evening because the walls of the room
are shrinking,
feeling as if i will be crushed by its four corners,
i finally decided to close the windows and open the
door to try to see if there are stars outside
and if the stars can relieve me from such a
claustrophobic impending death,
i step out into the open and sleep on the grass
to feel the coldness of the earth
i lay my body my arms stretched as far as my hands
can do in creating distance between my feet and my
center of gravity,
what i see is a dark sky and infinite space
i feel like a grain of sand spilling from a giant palm
i agree
i am insignificant
that room becomes nothing compared to the fear
of incomprehensible choices
an ocean of freedom
continental responsibility
i feel so drunk drinking too much space from a glass of my gaze
to this vast universe
nauseous still
i stand back to regain my composure
i go back inside the room
and then the wind howled
outside like an angry master
back to the comfort of my blanket
i promise myself a good sleep.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Conceit and Deceit
what i have in my hands
are only stones
if you search for more
pebbles
my mind can give you
but first
you must entice me
with a flower in your hand
for you to have stones
that soon will grow you
some leaves of sand
that soon shall show you
how pebbles can be flowers
too
what you have are only
flowers
a little bit lighter than
the twigs of their source
what i have in my hands
are pebble that give us weight
yes, weight is wisdom
and they are all stones
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Lady, What Are You Doing With Your Life?
you gave up your career
in that busy city where you are what they call
a necessity
giving you importance, that feeling of being
needed
you have meaning, they gave you meaning
now, you have lost this
meaning,
you believed him when he said
i love you
and now the demands are many
you gave him your love, your life, you gave him
posterity, his kids, you gave him a home
a garden, a room where you make love
you sweat it out, this love you have for him
you learned to cook and sew and
entertain him and his kids
on the nights after you make love with him
you look at the ceiling your eyes wide open
refusing sleep you walk up and open the
door, you walk farther to open this window
looking for some stars
to light you to guide you
you are lost
in their dark space on a crowded universe
there is no more place for you
you have no face
and now, you realize this great loss
this misfortune
you are taking lunch with us
you talk the whole day
my wife shall help you find your way again
to yourself, take back the name that they
have stolen
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Where Is The Love?
where is the love?
you ask me when i kiss you
you doubt the warmth of my lips
the truthfulness of my arms
the civility of my fingers
the trustworthiness of my hands
where is the love?
you look into my eyes
like you are a woman swimming in my river
you feel the coldness of my waters
the silence of my stones
the calmness of my sands
the coyness of my fish and snails
where is the love?
you ask me
you find the lotus without a flower
you find the driftwood on the water
my love, try finding love in the sky above
do you see love in the sun?
do you feel love with the moon?
do you hear the love from the tiny stars?
tell me.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Living The Moment
I walk alone along the sandy shore.
A waxing moon guiding my every step
Leaving shallow sandy footprints behind;
I stop and look back as the upsurge wave
Washes over them and where I now stand
Then ebbing back into its salty self
Taking with it all traces of the past;
I look out over the expansive sea
With its shimmering, glimmering swells;
I gaze into the infinite darkness
Of cold space drizzled with celestial stars.
A feeling of sadness overwhelms me
In knowing that all this nightly splendor
Will one night present itself without me.
I am now the past.
The moon, sea and stars live on
ad infinitum.
poem by Albert Ahearn
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You Think That I Am Hurt?
the years solidify pain
they turn into stone they become more silent
unmoved untouched think of them are strong
and self-sufficient,
unaffected, they watch everything pass
time and turbulence
of the seasons
the overflowing of the rivers
they live and survived
stones as they are
they do breathe they do not speak
so you think that i am really hurt?
i am stone. And it is not my new name.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Discover ‘SILENCE ‘
I discovered a stunning stillness,
‘SILENCE’ a musical wave,
My thoughts dint appear beautiful than this time,
I felt, I regained my inner dead Emotions,
And now ponder more on …Silence’s Beauty...
Silence is a mystery,
And a magical union,
Silence is of soul and heart,
And mind’s internal peace,
Silence unite love with all creations,
And form attachment with all disclosed hearts.
Silence belongs to everyone,
It is beyond word ‘SILENCE’….
It inculcates an extreme essence to fasten together,
And embody a true peace and love within and around.
Silence is present every moment...
And it alerts you to open yourself towards life.
Silence is present every moment...
Within the stillness of nights and peace of early mornings
Silence is present every moment…
To intimate its appearance in all worldly needs.
poem by Richa Dhodi
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A Walk on the Snow
It feels cold inside
when people cannot break the stillness
when human tongues revolve
around cars, TV and food
when the painful silence
is deep deep in the human heart.
I walk out of this coldness inside
away from the comforts and heating
installations in the house
away from the speed and heat of a car.
I simply walk on the field
looking at the vast space of emptiness
treading on the snow,
the snow that has
covered the grasses.
It gives me a deep sense of joy
that the walk to turn away
from coldness inside
becomes a walk with the Lord.
I walk with God on the snow.
Cars pass me by
Houses stand in the stillness
of their comforts.
I continue walking until
my exposed ears, hands and feet ache.
I walk with God on the snow
and I understand why people
fear the cold.
The Lord himself walks with me
on the snow and on the cold inside me
on the snow that covers the gound
on the snow that hurts and frightens.
But such a time of journeying
with God on the snow
becomes a cleansing and a healing
just as from the ground
the green will be reborn in spring.
poem by Elizabeth Padillo Olesen
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Rock Me
because you fear me
and i fear you too
because we are afraid what happens next
in that farther place
we finally stopped molding more words
for our mouths to sculpt
we smoothed the edges of silence
like a jewelry for brides
we admire its gloss
its glaze that to no end
have amazed our very eyes
that is its beginning but fear like all other
stories and novels shall end
i sit here looking at you pass me by
i have no expectations of suns and moons
i am learning the art of rocks and stones
it is my silence and hardness that shall speak for me
i am rooted without branches
i shall bear fruits without those leaves
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Core To Your Failures
Your need to feel you must compete with me,
s the core to your failures.
And the basis for your grief.
To deceive does not with benefit receive.
Everything done you do...
And regardless with who,
You want to see yourself portrayed as the winner.
Of what?
And...
Wishing defeat of those who support and feed you,
Will eventually open your eyes.
Since mine have been wide open,
With hopes one day you will see yourself...
For the fool you have been to 'think' there is something,
You will win to have others praise your efforts.
There is not a back left,
You can climb to rise high on it!
No mind intentionally disconnected,
Can remain unaffected.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Kindness
Things are destined to be lost
To be broken
The leaves fall and rot
At the foot of the tree
The roots soon shrink
And become part
Of the indifference of the
Rocks and the soil
Things move out
And up
Like vapor and then
Change their forms to air
But there are those that weep
And keep
Whatever was lost and destroyed
The leaves they take with their hands
And the roots
They stroke with the toes of their feet
Caress and
Kindness their virtues
That humanity has soon discarded
They grow the seeds in their hearts
They keep the fire of love
Burning
And the earth and the sun and stars
All smile at them
They too grow and scatter and travel
To all the places of this earth
Their forms too many
The gods know
They too must grow and get the world
Of the grass of sorrow
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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