En.Citatepedia^®.ro

A.s.2

i have not put
the dot yet in my
life's
composition
words are not
final and so
i simply put
the comma and
the hyphen
sometimes the
dash and
then the slash
perhaps when
i die
i give you the
honor
to put
the period
add nothing then
i have enough
of me

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Dictaphone Bard

[And here is a suggestion: Did you ever try dictating your stories or articles to the dictaphone for the first draft? I would be glad to have you come down and make the experiment.--From a shorthand reporter's circular letter.]
(As "The Ballad of the Tempest" would have to issue from the dictaphone to the stenographer)

We were crowded in the cabin comma
Not a soul would dare to sleep dash comma
It was midnight on the waters comma
And a storm was on the deep period

Apostrophe Tis a fearful thing in capital Winter
To be shattered by the blast comma
And to hear the rattling trumpet
Thunder colon quote capital Cut away the mast exclamation point close quote

So we shuddered there in silence comma dash
For the stoutest held his breath comma
While the hungry sea was roaring comma
And the breakers talked with capital Death period

As thus we sat in darkness comma
Each one busy with his prayers comma
Quote We are lost exclamation point close quote the captain shouted comma
As he staggered down the stairs period

But his little daughter whispered comma
As she took his icy hand colon
Quote Isn't capital God upon the ocean comma
Just the same as on the land interrogation point close quote

Then we kissed the little maiden comma
And we spake in better cheer comma
And we anchored safe in harbor
When the morn was shining clear period

poem by Franklin P. Adams
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I Believe

i believe that in the novel
written about us
it shall not end on the last
sentence with a period

i ask the Great Writer
to at least end it with a comma

the silence of the comma
the suspense of the comma

and the exclamation point
of the Hallelujah!

I do not prefer the eternal rest
i pray for that Bliss.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Adage #2

he shames you with the dusk
passing along a line of trees
and stopping at the seam of
the golden light of the moon

you cannot think of any meta
phor you simply want to be
direct and simple when you
say you do not like any com
plication you hate this con
volution of words and phra
ses and talking without st
opping because you cann
ot find the period and the
the comma slips away like
a sigh from the holes of y
our nose and the hairs are
not syllabicating anything

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Is It True?

for after all
is it true that a good poem
does not teach?
or preach?
or even tell something
so important
is it true that it simply
makes you feel?
logic is for
mathematics and
any exhortation on
how we live
and why
must be archived
in the ethics department.
this one must make sense
in the color and in the scent
and in the sweetness
or bitterness of its
words

it is more of a comma
than a period,
and some dots,
lots of dots.......

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Ramblings And More Ramblings

i like talking to myself, and so i just keep on talking
about anything else
no one hears it of course except myself
and like this sentence construction there is no period
not even a comma for this is a kind of talk that does not want to end

only when you are around and you talk endlessly too when i begin to listen.
and attentively i give everything to you
you fill me with words and words and the conversations keep going

i like to think that i am making a poem for you silently in my mind.
but it is not

i am more of going inward lost in my thoughts unable to find where is the way
out of this journey

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Emote One Day

when the heart speaks there is
no period it goes on loving without any room for
questioning it is like a dance where a punctuation is out of place always
arabesque
a twist
that art of tossing a spirit and falling down after
that moment when you talk to yourself because you need to unload a burden
like unleashing a dog captive to its house and master like a rain falling heavily on your roof without any colon like a surge of grief without a comma
like bliss that needs no
interjection like a cadena de amor with a dash
or something

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Slash Dot Dash

slash dot dash dot slash dot dash dot slash dot dash dot slash dot com
slash dot dash dot slash dot dash dot slash dot dash dot slash dot com
dot com
dot com
dot dot dot
dot com
slash dot dash dot slash dot dash dot slash dot dash dot slash dot com
slash dot dash dot slash dot dash dot com
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slash dot dash dot slash dot com
slash dot dash dot slash dot com
slash dot dash dot slash dot dash dot
dot dot dot
dot com
dash dot dash dot dash dot com
slash dot dash dot slash dot dash dot slash dot dash dot slash dot com
slash dot dash dot slash dot dash dot com
dot com
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slash dot dash dot slash dot com
slash dot dash dot slash dot com
slash dot dash dot slash dot dash dot
dot dot dot
dot com
(slash dot com {com})
(slash dot com {com})
(slash dot com {com})
(slash dot com {com})
(slash dot com {com})
(slash dot com {com})
(slash dot com {com})
dash dot dash dot dash dot com
slash dot dash dot slash dot dash dot slash dot dash dot slash dot com
slash dot dash dot slash dot dash dot com
dot com
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slash dot dash dot slash dot com
slash dot dash dot slash dot com
slash dot dash dot slash dot dash dot
dot dot dot
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(slash dot com {com})
(slash dot com {com})
(slash dot com {com})
(slash dot com {com})
dash dot dash dot dash dot com

song performed by by Fatboy Slim
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Cow Cow Boogie

Out on the plains down near Santa Fe
I met a cowboy ridin' the range one day
And as he jogged along I heard him singin'
The most peculiar cowboy song
It was a ditty, he learned in the city
Comma ti yi yi yeah
Comma ti yippity yi yeah
Now get along, get hip little doggies
Get along, better be on your way
Get along, get hip little doggies
He trucked 'em on down that old fairway
Singin' his Cow Cow Boogie in the strangest way
Comma ti yi yi yeah
Comma ti yippity yi yeah
(Chorus)
Now singin' his cowboy songs
He's just too much
He's got a knocked out western accent with a dixie
touch
He was raised on local ways
He's what you call a swingin' half breed
Singin' his Cow Cow Booogie in the strangest way
Comma ti yi yi yeah
Comma ti yippity yi yeah
(Repeat Chorus)

song performed by by Ella Fitzgerald
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Chase

you chase the numbers
and you are at a loss

how can the numbers feel?
you are in a discomfort
in some fits
and not at ease with yourself

because you believe in
numbers and like horses you
want to capture each
with a rope of your
tired imagination

disregard the numbers and begin
to believe in the words
those syllables
even in the simplest form
of the comma,
the period.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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From a very early period of my life I have derived the highest enjoyment from listening to music, especially to melody, which is to me the most pleasing form of composition.

quote by James Nasmyth
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Choose Words With Care

choose words with care sow love or hate
future tales life choices to God to relate
hear sound of laughter hear golden choice
bitter words anger spat why give vile voice
rainbow sow love heartfelt words of peace
never rage razor slash words never release

poem by Terence George Craddock
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The Period In Your Long Sentence

there comes a point in your life
when you simply do not care

you give love and yet you still do not care
if they give you the same love in return

they give you pain and still you do not care
you have no pain to give them you have actually

nothing at that point in your life when
pain and love too become nothing at all

equate that with that point of no return when
you do not look back not even afraid that something

may turn into salt or stone you simply do not care
because there is nothing to really care because

you are nearing the endpoint of your existence and your
mind and heart are focused on that something

that you do not know but hundred percent sure that it
is something that you cannot exchange with what passed

between the grip of your hands between the hold of your
fingers: nothing snaps, something completes itself

you are full and you long for nothing anymore
'it is there! it is there! ' that is the only

proclamation. The past fades. The present shrinks.
The world becomes a period in your long sentence.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Stewards of Destruction

The bird was routed from its nest
by the growl of a tractor’s roar.
Slash and burn, closer it came,
a tank in Mankind’s war.

The macaw soon was homeless
as its tree was knocked to earth.
Slash and burn, some peasants came
And hacked for all their worth

Elsewhere too, the Forest bears
brute evidence of man.
Slash and burn, the trees are gone
Crops planted there by hand.

Some miracle medicinals
Are forever lost down there
Slash and burn, fates’ wheel turns
Homo “sapiens” doesn’t care.

The habitats are dying
Their inhabitants are too.
Slash and burn, will man cause
his own extinction too?

poem by John F. McCullagh
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Sometimes It Must Be Me Who Must Say: Sorry

you apply for a job and they are the bosses
who give you the requirements

from 1 to 20 and you comply and then they take a look at your papers
and they say they need another set of requirements
from A to D,

and they tell you the deadline and they leave you the final note
that you comply
otherwise you will not be considered and everything in your life
will simply
be a jeopardy, or even double jeopardy

and they say that they do not want to say the word
sorry
to you
at the final rejection

you finally give up
and make a protest to this kind of injustice

and you write your latest entry in your journal:

' i finally gave up, and sometimes, dear diary,
it must be me who must say:
sorry, you also do not deserve me.
i quit'

love,

myself.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Hyphenated Happiness

I like those languages that combine words
with a hyphen, like joy-luck. How I yearn to
be in that club, if the dues are not too high.

I’ve had joy, but not much luck;
maybe joy comes with luck,
or maybe we get lucky
when we are joyful.

Life is complicated-simple.

poem by Sonny Rainshine
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Yeah, well, the F-bomb - it's become as ubiquitous as the word 'like.' People just throw the word 'like' around as punctuation. And I think in a lot of everyday speech, the F-bomb has become a kind of dash or a comma.

quote by Geoffrey Rush
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Periods

My destiny it is tonight
To sit with pensive brow
Beside my study fire and write
This verse I'm making now.
This Period, this tiny dot
My pencil has defined,
By centuries of human thought
Was predestined.

And my last period of all
With patience now I see;
The final point so very small,
That locks my life for me.
Yet in eternity of time
They relatively seem
So like,--the dot that rounds my rhyme
Or ends my dream.

For each was preordained by Fate
Since human life began;
So are the little and the great
Linked in the life of man.
And as I wait without heartache
The pencil-point of God,
To pattern predestined I make
This------.

poem by Robert William Service
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Our Final Farewell

To say our final farewell it happend not that long ago.
Our final farewell, I remember it so clearly.
Our final farewell, I remember your smile.
Our final farewell, I remember how proud you were
that you got promoted.
Our final farewell, happened like any 'goodbye'.
Our final farewell, you seemed happy.
Our final farewell, you seemed to enjoy life.
Our final farewell, you seemed to enjoy everything,
Our final farewell, I remember the conversation.
Our final farewell, sometimes haunts me.
Our final farewell, happened so quick.
Our final farewell, I didn't know that it was going to
be our last.
Our final farewell, happened more then a year ago
Your final farewell, happened on the 15/11/05 as you
took your own life.

poem by Nikki Hamilton
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My final words in a suicide bid

These are my final words.
Im sorry I have to leave it in a letter.
But if I speak you'll stop me.
These here and now are my last and final words.

To mum
I am so very sorry.
But I just cannot go on.
I tried to stay.
But it was all in vain.
I had enough of the pain.
My life had become a strain.

I have gone down the path.
That our lord has choosen for me.
Once again I shall be free.
Not stuck in a tree.

Please forgive me

poem by Amy Louise Kerswell
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The Right Man for the Job

Let me give myself to you.
I wish to hang upon a cross.
Let my ways of old be gone.
And rejoice in all my loss.
It was you that died for the sins of all.
And it was sin that you became.
I feel it would be my honor Lord.
To share our savior’s name.
He was the greatest of men on earth.
For the suffering he bared.
For the honor of the one that loved so much.
His pain I vow to share.
My life, I give it all to you.
For one day I’ll see His face.
I will hug the one who saved us all.
With His mercy and His grace.
Til’ I met you Lord, I did not know.
A love that was so strong.
I was lost and looked for a place to fit.
Now I’ve found where I belonged.
So if I can help, save one more soul.
Then I know Your Will be done.
If you need a man to fill the job.
It’s my honor to be the one.

poem by Ryan Lee Morris
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