A Seagull Flying On A Dimming Horizon
just that, what do you have to say more about it
just that
a white seagull flying towards a dimming horizon
a ship sailing away
the sun receding towards the other side
deep down the sea and then gone
just that, do not ever say that the seagull is heading home or running away
that is not so, there is no basis for such a personal conclusion
or just another imagination of your own loneliness by
association of that
white seagull flying towards a certain darkness
the ship turning to a dot dissolving on a horizontal line in front of you.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Related quotes
Seagull
Seagull you fly across the horizon
Into the misty morning sun
Nobody asked you where you are going
Nobody knows where you're from
Here is a man asking the question
Is this really the end of the world
Seagull you must have known for a long time
The shape of things to come
Now you fly through the sky
Never asking why, and you fly
All around til somebody shoots you down
Dadadada da da da down mm mm mm mm mm mm
Now you seasgull you fly, seagull you fly away
And you'll fly away today
And you'll fly away tomorrow
And you'll fly away, leave me to my sorrow
song performed by by Bad Company
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ode To A Seagull
rising from oneself
to the highest
sky
alone flying and
diving
and those who
watch
thought that this
is plain nonsense
for that seagull
may finally shatter
its bird's head
to a rock
it is not as simple
as that
the seagull has
learned the trick
of smashing itself
on the water
like a rocket
with a fuel at
its back
to speed to art
to life!
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Speed
rising from oneself
to the highest
sky
alone flying and
diving
and those who
watch
thought that this
is plain nonsense
for that seagull
may finally shatter
its bird's head
to a rock
it is not as simple
as that
the seagull has
learned the trick
of smashing itself
on the water
like a rocket
with a fuel at
its back
to speed to art
to life!
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Garden Wedding
Bees were working the lavender
as a seagull flew in blue sky
red rose's perfume did wendan
the air scented breeze wafted by
Young couples prim in their proper
the elders stood off to the side
Photographer posed as poser
the beauty in beholders eye
Bees were working the lavender
as a seagull sang in new sky
the bride shoes rose color purpleness
her groom stumping rose white, near nye
Bees kept working the lavender
A seagull flew swiftly far sky
yellow rose dress bride surrendered
To her white knight with kiss, near fly
Autobiography Of A Seagull
the mother of course is a white seagull
who made love with a seagull
one springtime
when all the snow have turned to sea
and there were ten eggs
i am the fourth to hatch from among the ten
hardheaded shells
all my siblings love the fish and the sea
and the breeze
except me
all the while, i want to be human.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Like Thunder (Flag Remix)
If I was a flag I'd have no nation
Just the colours and the wind
And if I was a church I'd have no treasure
Except the prayers and the hyms
And if I was a seagull I'd just rise up
And carry my soul across the sea
Drifting beyond the horizon
Lost by the ground to be free
If I was a life-boat I'd be waiting all my life
For another stormy day
And if I was a dolphin I'd be playing all the time
Just playing my life away
And if I was a kite I'd just be laughing
And dragging you up to the sky
Setting you down on a white cloud
While a seagull's floating by
And the silence roars like thunder
song performed by by Alphaville
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A journey begins with first step! ! ! ! ! ! ! !
Oh great warriors
Of yore
Sages of folk lore,
Could you tell me
Why do I feel vanquished
In the face of victory?
Had no aspiration to build
Great empires,
Or enlighten
The ignorant.
Just a small aspiration
To be free
And protest against
Pressure of
Conformity…
On being released,
from captivity,
Stood dazed in front of
Open cage,
Like a bird
Who has forgotten the
Instinct to fly
Looked skyward:
Jonathan Livingston Seagull
Soaring high…
Jonathan Livingston Seagull by Richard Bach is a fable in novella form
about a seagull learning about life and flight.
poem by Mamta Agarwal
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One Day
People will touch and talk perhaps easily,
And loving be natural as breathing,
And warm as sunlight;
And people will untie themselves,
As string is unknotted,
Unfold and yawn and stretch and spread
Their fingers;
Unfurl, uncurl, like seaweed returned
To the sea.
And work will be simple and swift
Like a seagull flying;
And play will be casual and quiet
Like a seagull sitting.
And the clocks will stop, and no - one
Will wonder or care or notice.
And people will smile without reason,
Even in the winter
Even in the rain.
poem by Arthur Seymour John Tessimond
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Day Dream
One day people will touch and talk perhaps
easily,
And loving be natural as breathing and warm as
sunlight,
And people will untie themselves, as string is unknotted,
Unfold and yawn and stretch and spread their fingers,
Unfurl, uncurl like seaweed returned to the sea,
And work will be simple and swift
as a seagull flying,
And play will be casual and quiet
as a seagull settling,
And the clocks will stop, and no one will wonder
or care or notice,
And people will smile without reason,
Even in winter, even in the rain.
poem by Arthur Seymour John Tessimond
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A Pain In The Neck
too many words,
too many promises,
too many loves
meant to be forgotten,
too many woes
these telling and retelling,
how can i be so submissive
to these literatures of lament, these incantations of madness?
a pain in the neck
a migraine, somehow, i lack sleep and the dogs keep on barking
on the streets of sorrow,
on the boulevard of broken dreams,
lights shutting off slowly like fireflies dissolving in the horizon.
it is morning,
and a yellow bird with a black beak is chirping on a twig
just beside my window.
i breathe the breeze from the sea.
The seagull pass by.
A yacht with a white sail and white banners is approaching the port.
My loneliness like an island
A broken port, a history of a typhoon, a rope, and a fallen coconut.
Someone farther from this house is waiving a hand.
A white handkerchief. A truce.
I am sleepy.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Ignored. (a Seagull Story)
Ignored. (A seagull story)
At the seaside restaurant it was busy everyone was eating lobsters,
I tried to catch the waiters’ eye. I was ignored and got the feeling
that I was Invisible, or that I was so small that my head didn’t reached
over the table. A seagull landed on my table a beautiful bird,
yellow beak and feet, plumage snowy white its wings light grey/blue
and its eyes were green; it also had the aroma of the Atlantic Ocean.
Waiter came, looked at the bird asked what it wanted, lobster, I said
when the dish came I gave it to the bird. Got up, left and no one tried
to stop me.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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302
everything has been concealed
for years
i have lived with the pigs
in the mud
and ate the left-over foods
of our masters
but then today
i feel the feathers growing on my side
i have strong wings
my claws are pushing in my feet
no longer hoofs
and hair
the wind from the sea
breaks the truth it brings
on my beak is the break
once upon a time a seagull lost an egg in the pigsty
unaccounted
i was that egg
i am a seagull now
to the full
of my potentials
goodbye brother pigs now i must fly away to the farther seas
to the higher skies
my destiny
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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A Love Poem #1
I really like
To write you
A love poem
Someday
One that
Looks like the
Shadow of
A young man
Fishing out
To the sea
And spreads
His net and
Paddles his
Way around
A school of
Fish and then
He waits
For a while
Dreaming
Only about
You
Then he
Sees a seagull
Encircling
Above his
Head flying
Over him
And then
Hovers
On the side
Of his
Boat like
Looking for a
Fish
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Lone Seagull
a lone seagull
...flying over
.....an empty beach,
the day after
...we paid
.....for our choices.
wondering and thinking
...what could i have done
......to change the final outcome?
one day too late!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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A Sigh At The Pier
seagull flying low
preying on fish
clouds getting dark
tides rising to the port
horizons losing grip
of the fading light
there are only two of us
and we are not talking
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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A Diamond
A Translation for Robert Jones
A diamond
Is there
At the heart of the moon or the branches or my nakedness
And there is nothing in the universe like diamond
Nothing in the whole mind.
The poem is a seagull resting on a pier at the end of the ocean.
A dog howls at the moon
A dog howls at the branches
A dog howls at the nakedness
A dog howling with pure mind.
I ask for the poem to be as pure as a seagull’s belly.
The universe falls apart and discloses a diamond
Two words called seagull are peacefully floating out where the
waves are.
The dog is dead there with the moon, with the branches, with
my nakedness
And there is nothing in the universe like diamond
Nothing in the whole mind.
poem by Jack Spicer
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The Flying Dutchman
The blue water stretches
as far as visibility allows to see
and there’s fog
rising white before the storm
out of the water.
The dusk becomes grey
and the sea from blue to dark black
while the night
darker than ink, as only companion
folds over the old ancient ship.
It’s Van der Decken standing as tiller man
behind the big wheel
and forever he steers the ship
on the journey that she goes.
Always cursing
his loud voice thunders
like lightning falling around him
for sailors to tend the sails right
and sails are hoisted crunching, groaning and trembling
with strong ropes
and the ship jumps
over the smashing waves.
Like a phantom
the Flying Dutchman appears
with white sails like a wraith
over the horizon
where it sails before a storm with speed.
The ship becomes lager
as the storm wind
brings her closer
and you hear her creak
against the power of the wind.
There’s thunder bolts blinding suddenly
and sea birds flies screeching
out in front of her,
while Van der Decken’s skeleton
drills his men powerless
to set the sails right
that is vibrating against the wind.
“How long still Lord, ”
echoes against the sea and sky,
without a answer
ever coming
and suddenly the ship is gone
as if it disappeared in the naught.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Flying Dutchman
Old lady with a barrow; life near ending
Standing by the harbour wall; warm wishes sending
Children on the cold sea swell ---
Not fishers of men ---
Gone to chase away the last herring:
Come empty home again.
So come all you lovers of the good life
On your supermarket run ---
Set a sail of your own devising
And be there when the dutchman comes.
Wee girl in a straw hat: from far east warring
Sad cargo of an old ship: young bodies whoring
Slow ocean hobo --- ports closed to her crew
No hope of immigration --- keep on passing through.
So come all you lovers of the good life
Your children playing in the sun ---
Set a sympathetic flag a-flying
And be there when the dutchman comes.
Death grinning like a scarecrow --- flying dutchman
Seagull pilots flown from nowhere --- try and touch one
As she slips in on the full tide
And the harbour-master yells
All hands vanished with the captain ---
No one left, the tale to tell.
So come all you lovers of the good life
Look around you, can you see?
Staring ghostly in the mirror ---
Its the dutchman you will be
..floating slowly out to sea
In a misty misery.
song performed by by Jethro Tull
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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U R Different
u R different
simply because
u luv me.
d lonely seagull
that vanished to a distant horizon
becoz of u
is so beautiful.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Do I Really Like Being Lonely?
here you are, a vortex,
and i am a point just below the line that runs
like a bridge
trying to connect us both
as though
we are one kind of a
connection: a telegraphic wire
a letter between two lonely people
or a chat
an email that has not been read for five days,
here you are, saying lots of irreconcilable
concepts: loneliness is a friend
a company
and loneliness actually is likable
like it is sort of a friend
who keeps me company
you are telling me that
loneliness is happiness:
are you sure? try going alone in a faraway island
and strolling along its beach
where a typhoon is raging
no seagull, the waves gigantic
the shore all crumpled
the sands all noisy
the abandon, is this something that is
a happy moment?
tell me, remember, the moment
once, when your heart was broken
and you are so lost
you cannot even pick a piece.
loneliness is loneliness.
i am running away from it.
it is a void. i am avoiding it.
but here she comes.
and i am telling her,
i am incurable.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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