A woman with a mask
Asks for your name
Don’t give any
She has no right
For true names
She has no face.
She is nameless.
Quid pro quo.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Related quotes
Writer's Disposal
Hurt and tense are writer's slaves
So she'll slash through page by page
Burning holes with vivid tongue
Still the feeling strikes as young
Through and through this time again
Misery welcomes her like a friend
Slash and slash and through and through
She spells her feelings as if they're new
Instead of skin she beats a page
A healthy cure, sure, lest she names
These demons, the things that she writes about
That she names other names to give them doubts
Things like this she knows all too well
Her hurts and pains often etch the spell
Before she even thinks to open her eyes
She's solved her feelings with a metaphor for cries
These nameless names named through and through
She possibly could be writing of you
And name you a snake; what harm is there in that?
Proof, invalid; your name is intact
These nameless things she knows all too well
You might not know but help etch her spell
Because intended or vicious, her works are neither
You'd ask what they're about; but she might not know either
poem by Dayna Mortimore
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Not Every Poem Knows How To Say Its Own Name Properly
NOT EVERY POEM KNOWS HOW TO SAY ITS OWN NAME PROPERLY
Not every poem knows how to say its own name properly-
There are poems that have no name
And poems that are named by others who have not written them-
There are poems whose names make them what they are
And poems whose names contradict and belie them-
Many poems have their first lines as their names
And these poems often are as memorable as one line only-
Great poems and good poems can be nameless
Or can have unforgettable names.
Not every poem knows how to say its own name properly -
Poems are poems are poems
And names are names are names
And sometimes they meet and are one
And live happily ever after-
But there are times when perhaps
They never should have met each other at all.
Poems have their names
And names have their poems
But sometimes they love each other
And truly are one.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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One Is 16 And The Other 18
the police officer arrested them
last night while they were strolling on the park
and this is the story:
he asks for their names and they say they have none
he asks from where they come from and they say
they do not really know
he asks them where they are going and they tell him
they are still undecided
he asks them what is in their bags and they say they are just nothing
he asks them some more and they say
they have nothing to say of themselves
they come from nowhere
and they are heading nowhere
and the police handcuffed them
these vagrants
these potential terrorists of this rural place
where the people still love peace
and this afternoon the police officer brings them all to me
and he tells me about the whole story
about his questions and their answers
and i am looking at them and they look at me
straight in my eyes
with dignity and without shame
with all pride
that they are telling the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth
that this one whose age is 16 and this other one whose age is 18
are simply talking about
themselves
and about us
and about the policeman himself
and surely, i agree
we have no names, we do not know where we come from and we do not
really know where we are going
we are all like that, in the strictest sense of the word, except
for our little pretensions
and so i ordered the policeman to release them all
and let them be
themselves
and let them go in peace and finish their journey with all ease
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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435
The Police Officer Arrested Them
Last Night While They Were Strolling On The Park
And This Is The Story:
He Asks For Their Names And They Say They Have None
He Asks From Where They Come From And They Say
They Do Not Really Know
He Asks Them Where They Are Going And They Tell Him
They Are Still Undecided
He Asks Them What Is In Their Bags And They Say They Are Just Nothing
He Asks Them Some More And They Say
They Have Nothing To Say Of Themselves
They Come From Nowhere
And They Are Heading Nowhere
And The Police Handcuffed Them
These Vagrants
These Potential Terrorists Of This Rural Place
Where The People Still Love Peace
And This Afternoon The Police Officer Brings Them All To Me
And He Tells Me About The Whole Story
About His Questions And Their Answers
And I Am Looking At Them And They Look At Me
Straight In My Eyes
With Dignity And Without Shame
With All Pride
That They Are Telling The Truth, The Whole Truth And Nothing But The Truth
That This One Whose Age Is 16 And This Other One Whose Age Is 18
Are Simply Talking About
Themselves And About Us
And About The Policeman Himself
And Surely, I Agree
We Have No Names, We Do Not Know Where We Come From And We Do Not
Really Know Where We Are Going
We Are All Like That, In The Strictest Sense Of The Word, Except
For Our Little Pretensions
And So I Ordered The Policeman To Release Them All
And Let Them Be Themselves
And Let Them Go In Peace And Finish Their Journey With All Ease
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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To Love
If, Cupid, Heaven is your home, you
are the child of Venus, Nectar and
Ambrosia are your food, then why
do you spend days and nights with
me? Why burn me with your flame,
and quench my thirst with tears?
Why destroy me? You are indeed
descended from wild beasts. Are you
worthy of such descent and of
heaven? But I, I am merely
a shadow, why do you torture me?
Ad amorem.
Si coelum patria est puer beatum,
Si vero peperit VENUS benigna,
Si Nectar tibi Massicum ministrat;
Si sancta Ambrosia est cibus petitus,
Quid noctes habitas, diesque mecum?
Quid victum face supplicemque aduris?
Quid longam lachrimis sitim repellis?
Quid nostrae dape pasceris medullae?
O vere rabidum genus faerarum:
O domo stipe patriaque digne:
Jam levis sumus umbra, quid lacessis?
poem by Giles Fletcher The Elder
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On A State Of Namelessness..
he asks me to utter
his name
a la Rumpelstiltskin
for after all
it is his thinking that a name
counts
that a name solves a
problem
and that dropping names
sometimes
creates the
ripples as some people
shiver and
give in
i wonder
why God did not give his name
and address to
anyone.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Quids
The little quids, the million quids,
The everywhere, everything, always quids,
The atoms of the Monoton—
Each turned three essences where it stood
And ground a gisty dust from its neighbors' edges
Until a powdery thoughtfall stormed in and out,
The cerebration of a slippery quid enterprise.
Each quid stirred.
The united quids
Waved through a sinuous decision.
The quids, that had never done anything before
But be, be, be, be, be,
The quids resolved to predicate
And dissipate in a little grammar.
Oh, the Monoton didn't care,
For whatever they did—
The Monoton's contributing quids—
The Monoton would always remain the same.
A quid here and there gyrated in place-position,
While many essential quids turned inside-out
For the fun of it
And a few refused to be anything but
Simple, unpredicated copulatives.
Little by little, this commotion of quids,
By threes, by tens, by casual millions,
Squirming within the state of things—
The metaphysical acrobats,
The naked, immaterial quids—
Turned inside on themselves
And came out dressed,
Each similar quid of the inward same,
Each similar quid dressed in a different way—
The quid's idea of a holiday.
The quids could never tell what was happening.
But the Monoton felt itself differently the same
In its different parts.
The silly quids upon their rambling exercise
Never knew, could never tell
What their pleasure was about,
What their carnival was like,
Being in, being in, being always in
Where they never could get out
Of the everywhere, everything, always in,
To derive themselves from the Monoton.
But I know, with a quid inside of me,
But I know what a quid's disguise is like,
Being one myself,
The gymnastic device
That a quid puts on for exercise.
And so should the trees,
And so should the worms,
And so should you,
And all the other predicates,
And all the other accessories
Of the quid's masquerade.
poem by Laura Riding
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Why Me?
When the hopes are hassled
And relationships are rattled
Naïveté asks, why me?
When wishes are whacked
And dreams are dashed
Naïveté asks, why me?
When fantasies are fettered
And blessings are battered
Naïveté asks, why me?
When desires are demolished
And ambitions are admonished
Naïveté asks, why me?
When temptations are traumatized
And passions are pulverized
Naïveté asks, why me?
Strangely,
Naïveté with influence
And naïveté with affluence
Never asks, why me?
Naïveté with name
And naïveté with fame
Never asks, why me?
Naïveté with health
And naïveté with wealth
Never asks, why me?
Naïveté with fiefdom
And naïveté with wisdom
Never asks, why me?
Naïveté with beauty
And naïveté with booty
Never asks, why me?
poem by Hitesh Sheth
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A Child Speaks...
being lost in childhood
is nothing
but meditation
often in serene atmosphere
i tune my nostrils
to absorb
the lost fragrance of childhood
and the ears
to hear
the lost voices of childhood
and memories...
where i lived with nameless grass
nameless plants...
and their nameless Flowers...
nameless colours...
i played with ants
and nameless insects...
nameless butterflies...
i lived in shrubs
as if in a wild forest
without name
without words
a child speaks...
poem by Denny M.X.
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I Can't Say No
Here I am
There you are
If you ask me to walk a thousand miles just to be where you are,
I can? say no
If you ask me.
If I had a dime, it? yours as well as mine.
I? keep the penny, you know I would and gladly give you the nine.
I can? say no
If you ask me
Ooh, ooh, ooh,
If you told me tonight to get up
Pack my bags let? go away,
I wouldn? even care what my Mommy, what my Daddy might have to say.
?ause I can? say no
If you ask me .
Ooh, ooh no!
(You?e too beautiful to be. to be)
You know I can? say it, baby no!
(You mean everything to me)
No ifs and no maybe?
No!
(that? why I, that? why I, that? why I, that? why)
You know I can? say it baby,
I can? say no
If you ask me.
Ooh ooh ooh. Sometimes I get so angry with him
I walk around I pout all day.
And the he kisses me and asks me do I love him
In a sweet soft sexy kind of way,
I can? say no
If he asks me.
On No I can? say no if he asks me.
I can? so if he asks me
song performed by by Natalie Cole
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Bridge-life
Bridge-life open the room and pass
Through greenfield upside down.
The air I feel not mine
I the passerby move forward
With open eyes to see
The light multiplicity.
Mine is the room of watertight
If I want to know something
I dipped ding and
Diminish in dim dike.
I am the water I am the light
I am in this world
This world is mine
For convenience
Different names given
To identify temorarily
Diffrent places.
Names are not true
The world is true I am in this world
I am true.
Names are no true
And true names are there
They are true
You can modify
You can change
You cannot modify
You cannot change.
Bridgelife always here
always alltimes to come
The world is alive
So I am.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
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Simple Friends and True Friends
A SIMPLE friend has never seen you cry...
A TRUE friend has her shoulders wet because of your tears...
A SIMPLE friend does not know your parents' names...
A TRUE friend has all their numbers in her phone...
A SIMPLE friend brings a bottle of wine to your party...
A TRUE friend comes early to help you get everything ready and leaves late because she stayed to help you clean...
A SIMPLE friend hates it when you call and she was about to go to sleep...
A TRUE friend asks you why you why you took so long to call...
A SIMPLE friend will talk to you about your problems...
A TRUE friend will help you with your problems..
A SIMPLE friend will imagine your romantic life...
A TRUE friend will use it to tease you...
A SIMPLE friend will act as another guest when she comes to your house...
A TRUE friend will help herself to anything from the fridge...
A SIMPLE friend thinks your relationship will end after a big fight...
A TRUE friend knows your relatiionship will be stronger...
A SIMPLE friend expects you to be there for her...
A TRUE friend will always be there for you...
(I need to finish it. I got it from a powerpoint slide off the internet)
poem by Daisy Perez
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Faces & Names
Faces and names, I wish they were the same
Faces and names only cause trouble for me
Faces and names
If we all looked the same and we all had the same name
I wouldnt be jealous of you or you jealous of me
Faces and names
I always fall in love with someone who looks
The way I wish that I could be
Im always staring at someone who hurts
And the one they hurt is me
Faces and names, to me theyre all the same
If I looked like you and you looked like me
Thered be less trouble you see
Faces and names, I wish theyd go away
Id disappear into that wall and never talk
Talk, not talk
I wish I was a robot or a machine
Without a feeling or a thought
People who want to meet the name I have
Are always disappointed when they meet me
Faces and names, I wish they were the same
Faces and names only cause problems for me
Faces and names
Id rather be a hole in the wall
Looking out on the other side
Id rather look and listen, listen and not talk
To faces and names
If I had a breakdown when I was a kid
I lost my hair when I was young
If you dress older when youre not
As your really age you look the same
If we all looked the same, we wouldnt play these games
Me dressing for you and you dressing for me
Undressing for me
Faces and names, if they all were the same
You wouldnt be jealous of me or me jealous of you
Me jealous of you, me jealous of you
Your face and your name
Your face and your name
Faces and names
Faces and names
song performed by by Lou Reed
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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At Any Rate
at any rate
what does it really matter
if she knows you
granting that to be true?
does the riddle of the Sphinx
ring true?
can't you be Phoenix for once
and rise
from the ashes
after some centuries?
just be yourself
the truth is
you are more beautiful when you
wear your true face
when i speak your true name
(from the four or so
many names you have
invented for yourself
so many selves
like a gorgon's head)
will it not be the sweetest?
i mean, your real name.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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What Really Happened
at 80
the monk who left the monastery in Utah
and who gave me a book about The Preacher's Daughter
always remembers names
like fr. Fabian
or fr. Lucas or
fr. Damian
when we arrive there
and i am patient as he is deaf
and
agonizing & he asks me to call and check if fr. Fabian is still there
he was there in 2000
and the year after fr. Fabian sent him a card
the cellphone rings and fr Bruno asks who am i
and i pretended to be
Ron, the old monk who is with me now
tracing his past
trying to look for fr. Fabian who died in Polomolok
and he wants to know the cause of death
fr Bruno says
nothing about asphyxiation but that is the lie that
i told Ron
and his face changed like an afternoon
and i can feel
that it was heavily raining
that is what happened
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Mine
You have a nameless soul.
You may come to me with different names
I don't mind-
I knew you long before this world...
i loved you then, i knew you then.
Thus I don't mind if your soul is nameless;
for if it ever had a name
it must have been 'MINE'...
for u are mine forever and u must be mine.
poem by Jessel Jane Tevar
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Nameless Rain
Its raining again outside
And all the witches have to hide
And I stare out the window
And wonder if anyone knows
The name,
Of any single dropp of rain.
Nameless rain,
Do you ever get lonely?
Nameless rain,
Whats your name?
The clouds have huddled above us
As they seem to follow us
And I sit here in pain
Thinking of the rain,
Rolling down my window today.
Nameless rain,
Do you ever get lonely?
Is this a game you play?
To fall here everyday
Did you ever have a name?
Do you ever scream in pain?
Oh, nameless rain.
Are you cursed to fall forever?
For the crimes that you endeavored
If you washed us all away
Would you fall anyway?
Nameless rain,
Do you ever get lonely?
Nameless rain,
Whats your name?
poem by Blaine McCanless
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My Heart Cheats With Me
My heart cheats with me,
I give ten reasons to hate her,
Heart gives ten reasons to love her.
My heart cheats with me,
I say she make me cry,
Heart say she give me smile more than cry.
My heart cheats with me,
I say she never wipe my tears,
Heart says I never show my tears.
My heart cheats with me,
I say she breaks her promises,
Heart says why I ask her to make promises.
My heart cheats with me,
I ask why she leaves me alone in this world,
Heart asks why I feel alone in this world.
My heart cheats with me,
I say she never care for me,
Heart says I never care for her care.
My heart cheats with me,
I ask why she shown me dream,
Heart asks why I believe on dream.
My heart cheats with me,
I ask why she gave fake love to me,
Heart asks why I gave true love to her.
My heart cheats with me,
I ask why she betrayed with me
Heart ask why I trust on her.
My heart cheats with me,
I ask why I can’t hate her
Heart asks why I was loved her.
My heart cheats with me,
Heart asks, why I want to hate her whenever one day I was loved her?
I say I want to hate her because you remember her and make me cry.
My heart cheats with me,
My heart cheats with me.
poem by Priyo Hazra
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Always True To You In My Fashion
If a custom tailored vet
Asks me out for something wet
When the vet begins to pet--i cry hooray.
But i'm always true to you, darlin', in my fashion
Yes, i'm always true to you, darlin', in my way.
I've been asked to have a meal
By a big tycoon in steel,
If the meal includes a deal, accept i may.
But i'm always true to you, darlin', in my fashion
Yes, i'm always true to you, darlin', in my way.
There's an oil man known as tex
Who is keen to give me checks.
And his checks, i fear, means that tex is here to stay.
But i'm always true to you, darlin', in my fashion
Yes, i'm always true to you, darlin', in my way.
From ohio mister thorn
Calls me up from night till morn
Mister thorn once cornered corn and that ain't hay
But i'm always true to you, darlin', in my fashion
Yes, i'm always true to you, darlin', in my way.
From milwaukee mister fritz
Often dines me at the ritz
Mister fritz invented schlitz and schlitz must pay
But i'm always true to you, darlin', in my fashion
Yes, i'm always true to you, darlin', in my way.
Mister harris, plutocrat, wants to give my cheek a pat
If the harris pat means a paris hat, pay, pay!
But i'm always true to you, darlin', in my fashion
Yes, i'm always true to you, darlin', in my way.
song performed by by Ella Fitzgerald
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Its Life
Written by dan peek, 1973
Found on hat trick and highway.
The child breaks each moment of sadness for our sakes
Leaving, trying his best to believe then
Hoping this dream will come true
Sadness is only a face for you
I will try like the devil to bear your names
Anything for you
In only a moment your life can change
Still lake, rocking the boat its not too late
Leaving, trying your best to believe then
Hoping this dream will come true
Sadness is only a face for you
I will try like the devil to bear your names
Anything for you
In only a moment your life can change
You fell through the window and down on the floor
You found a direction, you hope will say more
With your life, its taken every one in view
The people are pretty
The flowers are, too
You dont get to heaven
If they dont say you do
cause its life and its taken every one of you
And its true
Id like to take you but I dont think theres room for two
Id like to take, Id like to take you
Id like to take, Id like to take you
Id like to take, Id like to take you
Id like to take, Id like to take you
Id like to take, Id like to take you
Id like to take, Id like to take you
Id like to take, Id like to take you
Id like to take, Id like to take you
Id like to take, Id like to take you ...
song performed by by America
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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