A Vague Image Of Life
a vague image of life
against a shade
of daylight
outlines of motions
of arms
and hands
and naked
bodies
bathing in the river
a leap
of desire
certainly like a frog
from my belly
like some
butterflies
wanting to come
out from
my chest
like some
bees
hiding in the hive
of my mouth
wanting to swarm
to the trees
of life
to the nectar
of flowers
life wants to shine
for us to see
what life really is:
desire, ambition,
passion, love,
hope, faith
come to think of
it
what is vague
is actually
death always
lurking
in some
dark corners
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Related quotes
What is Life
What is life?
Who knows the true definition?
Is life everything that you want you gets?
If life a bowl of gravy and a bucket of biscuits?
Is life just one good time?
What is life?
Life is not knowing exactly what it is you want
Life is wanting to take it away but you can't because you cherish it too much
Life is being confused
Life is at times being angry and wanting to cry
Life is crying for no reason and wondering why
Life is finding love only to have it taken away
Life is allowing your heart to go astray only for it to be broken within a single day
What is life to me?
right now I can't tell
my life is sporadic
up today and down tomorrow
sometimes there's smiles, sometimes there's sorrow
my life is thinking you've got it only to find out that it was never there
my life is stressful for reasons that don't need to be
these reasons I still cannot see
What is life?
Can you tell me?
poem by Monkey Bubbles
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Sometimes We Simply Have To Look Beyond Our Sadness
sometimes you give up
and i can see that your sad face that looks somewhere
beyond the window looking for nothing
the world becomes an empty canvass
of futile light
the sky blue clouds no matter how beautiful
the sun no matter how orange-bright and warm
the verdant fields filled with trees and flowers
the blithe butterflies and winged winds....
sometimes in too much selfish pondering
we lose the power of hope-imagining
how life moves by itself growing without your noticing
how the earth silently makes the nights and days
how each day unfolds what beauty all nature holds
how surprises burst here and there like fireworks
because you are carried by the river of sadness
choked by the flash floods of its flounders
all these have become useless pieces
if only... you try looking outside the gates of your preoccupations
you will see a world out there with arms opening, offering
always wanting to embrace you
always wanting to make the best for you
you will never see
your eyes have always been covered with tears
your ears shut up
in selfishness
your mouth cannot speak
your tongue tied to bitterness
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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We Are Converging
Wanting to be heard.
Wanting to be valued.
Wanting to be acknowledged.
Wanting to sustain a way of life...
Fading.
To emerge once again and surge.
Wanting to be admired.
Wanting most to be thought as best!
Wanting to imprint an impression...
That conflicts and unrest,
Did not from them initiate...
The perpetuating of protests.
Nor did the rise of destruction, fear and insecurities...
Leave this world in a chaotic mess.
We are converging!
And peace...
Will be the final test.
Many want.
Many wish.
Many hope to fill all hearts with love.
Instead of a digressive emptiness.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Life Erupting...
i walk the hymn of life erupting,
the urine prayers, the sweat, the pus.
the gutteral cry of need evolving,
the phlegm of god, the bodies rotting.
the snow wiped faces
and the naked earth.
in constant rhythm with hunger's howl,
the candle flame, the silenced tongue.
the whisper shake, of shadows wanting,
nails, blocks, and colored glass.
the crippled dance,
and the distant drums.
who am i? i am you!
the second son of an unknown father.
born in an alley neath a starless sky,
my feet stink of human,
my eyes lit with desire...
talk to me when words are done!
the wet birthed babe,
the hot blood of giving.
the life caved in,
the searh for nipple.
the whiskey breath,
the cigarette memory,
the love torn chest,
the beak plucked heart.
the identity of the unknown soldier
who died in the ashes, unheard, unseen.
the hands that built with determined faith,
with common trust and common hope...
the weeping beneath the silence,
the silence beyond the grave....
talk to me when words are done!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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George Gray
I have studied many times
The marble which was chiseled for me --
A boat with a furled sail at rest in a harbor.
In truth it pictures not my destination
But my life.
For love was offered me and I shrank from its disillusionment;
Sorrow knocked at my door, but I was afraid;
Ambition called to me, but I dreaded the chances.
Yet all the while I hungered for meaning in my life.
And now I know that we must lift the sail
And catch the winds of destiny
Wherever they drive the boat.
To put meaning in one's life may end in madness,
But life without meaning is the torture
Of restlessness and vague desire --
It is a boat longing for the sea and yet afraid.
poem by Edgar Lee Masters
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A New Spring (In Answer To Ernst Van Heerden)
There is something radically new to this spring
something fresh, matchless, pure, even bright
it continually brings the realization of new life
of unfolding growth, hope and true love
if we continually love each other, will I already
see you glow in early pregnancy
when the Seven Sisters, Orion and the Southern Cross
glow romantically, with candles smouldering to their ends?
And now when you lie warm in my arms
with your body enchanting, I feel your heart beating
the moon gleams golden and magical
every moment is full of passion
It is visible that the earth is different
trees are covered in exuberant new buds
the grass is full of life and green
when butterflies are fluttering, bees are working buzzing
while thunder blazes down blue-white
with the rain pouring pattering, bringing life
the fluttering, flapping of chattering birds
over glorious trees, at flowers that are blooming, at crops
is a glad exaltation where the farmer, the gardener
and every lover of nature
see the splendour of new life
knows that God does answer prayers
brings rain, wind and sunshine at His time
and in the fishpond goldfishes stare
in love at each other
while the mirror image
catches nature full of life
poem by Gert Strydom
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Devil's Call
the greatest spy of life is the inner passion
of desire that lives within every one's heart,
the captives that sacrifice the chance to escape
from the bondage of slavery of freedom
between good and bad of life
many times the vulture consume my body and
break every inch of my bones though I know
this worthless taste is nothing to believe than a
reality to come in my day of reckoning
time is just a theft of fashionable wanting of
what is today to touch, leaving all behind the
value of what meant to be happy at this very
moment, a matter of doing of which is not the
will of the heart
a deliverance of own death to the hands which
the soul wish not to deny the existence of
immortality of eternal life, all are just a spy of the
heaven above to where the distance is near to
come
whisper as you call, for the devil's voice lives
in every wish your heart enjoy, be dumped, for
the tongue sweeten the lies of the Devil sweat,
and brings the soul to believe the power of
joy in every suicidal heart that waits its answer
of what is dying of mercy in your life
always be steadfastly awake for the Devil's call
lives just a little a part from each wanting heart
poem by Antonio Liao
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The Passion From Within
If you want something, you’ve got to believe you can have it, and take a stand;
Give it all you got, and reach out your hand;
You can’t just go through life without falling in fire;
In time, I think you’ll find what you truly desire;
Find your true passion, the passion from within;
If you can’t find your passion, then don’t stop until you do;
For only yourself can find the true you;
Just take a deeper look inside;
Life isn’t always going to be an easy ride;
You can’t always get what you desire, you have to fight;
You can find your way, because God is the light;
When your life gets rough, and you feel bad, just pray;
If you don’t understand, talk to God, He is the way;
When you find your passion, hold it, and don’t ever let it go;
You will have your days that the good in you will show;
Is it your turn to shine?
Come on, I think it’s time
My time has come, so let’s begin
For I have found the passion, The Passion from within
poem by Shelby Brockway
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To Spend Time With Someone Equally Experienced
Wanting the best quality of life,
One can get...
Seems an outdated desire these days.
Especially when the having of things and money,
Is associated with acquiring happiness and contentment.
Turned into rubbish and trashed should be these thoughts.
Being able to purchase anything,
Has never brought into one's life a peace of mind.
Not a dime has been spent for it.
Unless a lottery win made the difference.
And in that case...
Some exceptions to the rules are made.
However...
Wanting the best quality of life,
One can get...
Should not be an option.
A preference,
Or a choice one makes after weeding through the spice and variety...
Life is 'rumored' to bring with an attachment of joy.
But...
It does seem,
That adventuring from one's comfort zone...
Eventually pinpoints a basicness of a life lived,
Is ultimately wished.
With a desire to spend time with someone equally experienced.
Freeing one to enjoy instead of find explanation,
For every little thing that is witnessed.
Or listening to someone complain about bugs flying around,
While strolling leisurely through a forest.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Poetry To Me
What is poetry to me- it is words of beauty-words of life
Words of love, pain and sacrifice.
Words of showing and growing and needing and feeding
Words of hope and despairs, wanting and cares.
Poetry takes you into the minds of mankind
From days of old to the present time.
Poetry takes you on trips that you've never been before
And opens up every door.
Poetry becomes a longing, a want, a desire, a need
On which your mind must feed.
It becomes a life within itself
And takes you to the heavens and down to hell.
Poetry becomes a flaming desire
And only writing can put out this fire.
I call it my passion while others say it's my obsession
Yet! No matter what they may think or say
Poetry is here to stay.
So many different types of poetry
For the different minds 'you see'.
You will always find one that will give you meaning
From a loving heart to one that's bleeding.
Jump on the bandwagon and take a hold
For with poetry ' life unfolds'.
poem by Louis Rams
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There was a combination of not wanting to look a gift horse in the mouth, but also really not wanting to be stuck in Lord of the Rings for the rest of my life, and being desperate to kind of make sure that I could do something else with my life.
quote by Sean Astin
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Always There Is More To Life
life is not
a box of chocolates,
it's a bouquet of
flowers
colors of delight
scents of desire
so light
to the heart
it is what i hold
for you
in my hands
life so full of
flowers
but always there
is more to life
we feel it
when the bouquet is
finally thrown to the
air
and another one
expectant holds
it dear
someday
life will be different
a tree full of fruits
at night
fireflies in
freedom to shine
their own
lights
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Way
At first a mere thread of a footpath half blotted out by the grasses
Sweeping triumphant across it, it wound between hedges of roses
Whose blossoms were poised above leaves as pond lilies float on the water,
While hidden by bloom in a hawthorn a bird filled the morning with singing.
It widened a highway, majestic, stretching ever to distant horizons,
Where shadows of tree-branches wavered, vague outlines invaded by sunshine;
No sound but the wind as it whispered the secrets of earth to the flowers,
And the hum of the yellow bees, honey-laden and dusty with pollen.
And Summer said, "Come, follow onward, with no thought save the longing to wander,
The wind, and the bees, and the flowers, all singing the great song of Nature,
Are minstrels of change and of promise, they herald the joy of the Future."
Later the solitude vanished, confused and distracted the road
Where many were seeking and jostling. Left behind were the trees and the flowers,
The half-realized beauty of quiet, the sacred unconscious communing.
And now he is come to a river, a line of gray, sullen water,
Not blue and splashing, but dark, rolling somberly on to the ocean.
But on the far side is a city whose windows flame gold in the sunset.
It lies fair and shining before him, a gem set betwixt sky and water,
And spanning the river a bridge, frail promise to longing desire,
Flung by man in his infinite courage, across the stern force of the water;
And he looks at the river and fears, the bridge is so slight, yet he ventures
His life to its fragile keeping, if it fails the waves will engulf him.
O Arches! be strong to uphold him, and bear him across to the city,
The beautiful city whose spires still glow with the fires of sunset!
poem by Amy Lowell
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Sonnet: The Bees Never Give Up
Every time, they crush the bees to death and
Steal away their sweet honey in a trice;
And wax to make candles of immense size;
The Queen bee escapes to another land.
The bees comeback; with vengeance start again
A small bee-hive in the very same place!
They work extra in the sun and in rain,
Buzzing to flowers in a frenzied pace.
And soon their hive has been rebuilt and full,
Of sweet honey and larvae that are fed;
The bees continuing without a lull,
Searching for more nectar in every mead.
How well Nature takes care of its species!
Man must learn from the bee-hive and the bees.
poem by John Celes
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Lotus-flowers
Lotus-flowers
Naked I am before The Author of Life
-the child of nature’s birth and death
Imperfect I am before The Great Mind
-the child of passion’s limited to earth
Rebellious I am before The Truth
-the child of desire clothe with pride
Vicious I am before The Law
-the child of deceit and endless lies
Avaricious I am before The Master of All
-the child of corrupt and distorted image of life
Nauseous I am before The Ancient One
-the child of folly, ignorant antagonist
And I am the pilgrim before the God of the Universe
-the ‘you’ and the ‘I’ across time and space
Note:
Inspired by the teaching on “Nirvana”
poem by Jordan Legaspi
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To put meaning in one's life may end in madness, But life without meaning is the torture Of restlessness and vague desire-It is a boat longing for the sea and yet afraid.
quote by Edgar Lee Masters
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Desires Part -2
Yet another night
As I lay awake
Sleepless in desire…
Eyes aching for a
Glimpse of
"me"
In your eyes..
Lips parched
In hunger of
Your mouth.
Arms naked
In want
Of your arms.
Bosom swollen,
Painful against the confines.
This ache, painful..
Yet heady..
Starting at the navel
And spreads
Engulfing everything
Feelful or feeling less of
"me".
Dissolving into a fire
Burning its way
Into caverns
And deep recesses
Of my being.
As the skin burns..
In cold fire
In want of your being.
I still lay awake,
Half scalded,
Half doused,
Drowning in the floods
Of my own passion fluid.
Gasping, gaping
In wait of wanting you
Like the parched brown earth
Gapes in want of the seasons
First monsoon.
O love!
if only you ever know
How I desire you…
poem by Anjali Kakati
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Without passion
I think and thought
i hoped and wished
i cried and mourned
i yelled and laughed
i screamed in excitement
then i realised it was passion.
Passion is strong
it is intense
it is a great feelin of emotion
love, hate, desire, enthusiasm, fondness, zeal, affection and ardor.
A man without passion is like a man without life.
Yes, i pride in myself, i have life because
i have passion,
i know love
i show affection
i know what it is to be fond of
i can give warmth
i am full of ardor.
Just when i was begining to be exalted by my feelings you came into my life,
i found you in my soul
then i knew what i claimed was passion, was nothing compared to what you gave me.
I came to realise that passion wasn't anything else but a woman.And not just any woman, it was you.
Then i remembered 'a man without passion is a man without life.Without you i'm incomplete, without passion i have no life
Now i can boast of passion of love of life.
Because i have you.
Art of Life
Shine with light, struggle in the dark
Enjoy the day, conquer the night
Need free air, survive in mud
Life is the existence fighting
Blessed by birth, marked by curse
The buds of hope, the mature of old
The reason to awake, the dream to make
Life is unfortunately precious
The love death, the irony of fate
The lonely stage, the broken faith
The truth forsake, the heart flakes
Life is sometimes hurt
The immortal stone, the super power
The fantasy creature, the space encounter
The peaceful daily, the small adventure
Life is the most tempting desire
The laugh in tear, the sweet in sorrow
The satisfaction in trouble, the rich in lack
The miracle in natural way, the sincerity in despair
Life is mysteriously beautiful
poem by Maria Sudibyo
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Closeness
your hand
entwined to my hand
your hair under my chin
your head resting on my chest
you smell my breath
there is no sound from your mouth
you close your eyes and see some trees
and ponds and waterfalls
and birds and clouds and flowers blooming
over a field of green grass
and butterflies and bees
the air you feel is as fresh as the scent of our skins
i caress your arms you let my hands go
you touch my face and then you look at me
we kiss and then we both melt
in paradise.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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