About Us And About Them
we busy for some noble purpose
for instance, i teach and you travel visiting places
where you are needed, as i continue on
burning the fires
of students who want to learn more
as i guide them where legal wisdom lies
in between those wits
and slides of humor
where we finally meet on the serious challenges
of criticisms: what society ought to be? who the leaders must be?
where progress is? what trees can do for this aging earth?
etcetera etcetera
we are angry
for those who search personal pleasures on Sundays
the cock-fighters shouting at the cockpit
the picnickers drunk on the beach
the rumormongers enjoying the headlines of the town
who are pregnant without getting married
who are impoverished by their convictions
they are those that thrive
we are those endangered species
and we are meant to perish
we blame no one then
as we meet again and be so silent.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Related quotes
Ennui
when you want to
refuse to think
when you
want to stop
doing anything
yet you cannot
because
you are still
alive
and there
is no way
that you
can refrain
from living
this and that
etcetera
endless etcetera
keeping
yourself
busy for
nothing
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Drool, Etcetera....
when you wake up this morning you rush yourself
on the usual
many things to do
but never completely done
but just the same
you keep on doing it
like opening windows, closing doors,
mopping floors, washing underwear,
brushing teeth,
etcetera
now you are working
the table offers you the menu for the stress of the day
you count them
and start at
the first file,
etcetera the clock even if you do not mind it
keeps on ticking,
nothing unusual really,
you keep on thinking and writing notes and then
making conclusions
affecting the life of other people
they become simply case numbers
and usual names,
nothing extraordinary really
etcetera
you stop, make some sighs, breathe,
stand, sit, lay your head on the sofa,
and think,
etcetera
this world is black and white,
there are no more rainbows, the rains are cats and dogs
the little shower is gone,
the slowness of beauty is murdered,
the strip teasing of something that your mind coddles
and fondles
takes time,
the unfolding of the flower is choked,
the buds are nipped,
births are scraped,
off,
and on,
push and pull,
that is the language i learn from you,
etcetera,
etcetera
i did not invent it,
we say it when we do not know
what follows next
etcetera
life.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Headlines (demo 1)
we call ourselves the crown of creation
i wonder what does it mean
we're not the owners of the moon and the earth
it's like a roundabout and it goes round and round for free
we've made some gruesome inventions
yet we're mastered by those systems
we're endangered danger, we're running out of fashion
if we don't care for responsibility, hey-hey
we're endangered danger, we're endangered danger,
we're the headlines today but all that we say is
we're endangered danger,
eric says that we're a lonely species
that's why we're playing the fools
but once we'll enter the aquarian age
i sometimes catch him floating in his swimming-pool, he says
if we'd tune in to our brighter sides
we'd feel like jesus on the waters
cause we're sailors not soldiers so much more for this show
than a guest-appearance in the universe, here we go
we're endangered danger, we're endangered danger,
we're the headlines today but all that we say is
we're endangered danger
song performed by by Alphaville
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Intergalactic Radio Station
Ive, seen things..
..so many things that you cant believe.
Past designs, future designs,
Cables in the bend.
Second-hand sounds,
Future sounds,
Synthesised dialogues.
Incomprehenseble software.
Hi jon, lets break some rules!
Here comes the sun.
Were doing some recordings later
Same ol factory you know
Heres some names for you,
polyester landscape,
Nylon oxygen,
Ashes to concrete.
Etcetera.....etcetera....
Etcetera.....
Oh, by the way,
Its been a beautiful morning,
What a morning,
Great morning,
Its a great moring man.
song performed by by Vangelis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Giving Up Giving Up
it is a surprising remark
at the end of what to give up
for instance
take the following 'Give up complaining——focus on gratitude.
Give up pessimism——become an optimist.
Give up harsh judgments——think kindly thoughts.
Give up worry——trust Divine Providence.
Give up discouragement——be full of hope.
Give up bitterness——turn to forgiveness.
Give up hatred——return good for evil.
Give up negativism——be positive.
Give up anger——be more patient.
Give up pettiness——become mature.
Give up gloom——enjoy the beauty that is all around you.
Give up jealousy——pray for trust.
Give up gossiping——control your tongue.
Give up sin——turn to virtue.'
etcetera,
etcetera,
the twist is the last: give up giving up!
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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… about Love
Everything about Love is fascinating;
Love at first sight; love that lasts forever;
Love that kills: winter, fall, summer and spring.
Everything about Love has an element of fever
In it: the anger, the rage, the jealousy,
The scorn, the disgust, the dishonesty,
The deception … etcetera, etcetera.
It is a timing bomb that can explode at the blink
An eye, or implode momentarily at the crank
Of a gun. Love can be unexpectedly deadly,
Beautiful, joyful, sweet … etcetera, etcetera.
Everything about Love is controversial:
The lazy days of summer on the boardwalk,
And the romantic promenade in the park.
Everything about Love is exceptional:
The beauty of the kissing and hugging swans,
And the tenderness of caressing hands.
Everything about Love is beyond words:
The lilies at springtime, the singing birds
During the summer, the ice-skating children
During the wintry season, and in autumn,
The dead leaves in the Garden of Eden.
Everything about Love is beyond words.
Everything about Love can be either sane
Or insane. Love can be fascinating,
Controversial, exceptional, and disgusting.
poem by Hebert Logerie
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Thriving
We thrive together
And perish together.
It is comradeship.
We thrive with a leader
And perish with him.
It is monarchy.
We thrive with a master
And perish for him.
It is slavery.
We thrive together
And perish sporadically.
It is the survival of the fittest.
We thrive together
And perish fighting with in.
It is barbarism.
A democracy witnesses
All these sects mixed.
11.07.2006
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Mr. Housman's Message
O woe, woe,
People are born and die,
We also shall be dead pretty soon
Therefore let us act as if we were
dead already.
The bird sits on the hawthorn tree
But he dies also, presently.
Some lads get hung, and some get shot.
Woeful is this human lot.
Woe! woe, etcetera. . . .
London is a woeful place,
Shropshire is much pleasanter.
Then let us smile a little space
Upon fond nature's morbid grace.
Oh, Woe, woe, woe, etcetera. . . .
poem by Ezra Pound
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Song in the Manner of Housman
O woe, woe,
People are born and die,
We also shall be dead pretty soon
Therefore let us act as if we were
dead already.
The bird sits on the hawthorn tree
But he dies also, presently.
Some lads get hung, and some get shot.
Woeful is this human lot.
Woe! woe, etcetera . . . .
London is a woeful place,
Shropshire is much pleasanter.
Then let us smile a little space
Upon fond nature's morbid grace.
Oh, Woe, woe, woe, etcetera . . .
poem by Ezra Pound
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The Tenth Poem
Thou shalt not covet
thy neighbor's poem;
neither shalt thou desire...
his metaphors,
nor his similes,
nor his oxymorons,
nor his ironies
his metalepsis
his paradoxes
his anthimeria
his litotes,
ellipses,
zeugma,
anapodoton,
epizeuxis,
anaphora,
pleonasm
nor anything
that is his.
etcetera etcetera
The tenth poem
forbids
coveting the poems
of another.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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A Sad Story About A Plight Of A Woman On The Other Side Of The World
he is talking to
a woman on the other side of
the world
a world that he cannot
feel
because he never saw
it
neither is the woman
since
she is on the other side
of the world
he was never there
he knows a lot
about her
he was told by so many
who tell him
that she lives with them
for a while
he hears everything about
those foul things about her
but he never smells them
can foul be foul when he only
hears it?
can a sense of smell be simply
heard?
while they were talking on the phone
she hints about how her lover
rejected her
about how her father abused her
how her mother abandoned
all of them
for another man
how their house was foreclosed
and how they have to move
to another place
again and again
how she had to sleep with other men
to make a living
etcetera etcetera
it was a long conversation
and it was then that he felt her
a madness not of her own causing
but of society as a whole
when she was finished
he nodded, for now
he understood.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Classroom
you walk on by the classroom
day to day
but never think about
what’s in it
I know, I didn’t
not because you don’t care
cause it never entered your mined
you might wonder when you see the students
you might know that
they have to go to a “special”
classroom of there own
you might even know what’s
in the classroom
you don’t know what they
do in the classroom
the academics
the physical therapy
the carts and crafts
the culinary arts
most of all the life skills
sounds a lot like most of you classes
right
cause it is
so why not just stop on by
say hello to
the staff
the students
talk to one of the students for a while
they will teach you something
you’ll never learn anywhere else
the classroom will always be there
with students and staff
that will talk to you
watch them watch the students
you’ll learn a lot about life
let the classroom teach you something
let you teach the classroom,
that being “normal” is not
so different
teach that
please teach that
to the
classroom
for it will always be
just
a classroom with
students
staff
and a few students
who stopped on by
and
said hello
poem by Mrs. Cynosure
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Beyond the Horizon!
Every Day there are some same things that go on
Monday to Friday, Busy as a bee from Morning to Noon
Noon to Evening work is in progress, time moves on
No time for all the friends wanting to meet you soon
Just slow down a bit, take a walk on grassy ground
See the flowers, people and trees that you never knew
Look at the beautiful smiles that are floating around
Everything makes you smile, you feel calm and anew
As you are way too busy and occupied with work everyday
Holiday means spending time with your family and friends
Relaxing and Enjoying is how you spend Saturday and Sunday
Mostly, routines to holidays is just one journey that never ends
Life is truly all about gazing at the Horizon
For none knows what lies Beyond the Horizon.
poem by Manjeshwari P MYSORE
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Something Else
Note to the teacher,
Words to my lover,
There is something else to think about;
But be very thankful when my words meet your hearts.
Designated to guide and to direct others,
Laeders can be found in all areas of our society;
But without strong leaders,
A society lacks guidance and direction.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Blame Us
Science fascination
Sinful believers
Species in mutation
Sordid disorders
Our leaders missed the point
Forced to dominate and destroy
To get what people want
Cultural coded society
Secret monster machines
Evolve in our spirits
Deeper in mind, digging
To find the ultimate
Deathwatch entertainment
Predictable near-misses
Is this what people want?
One blind reflex society
On the planet, blame us,
In my time, we didn't care enough
New world lies convention
High risk policies
One speech on total power
Leading to suicide
Our leaders missed the point
Forced to dominate and destroy
It's not what people want
It's not what's called society
On the planet, blame us
In my time, we didn't care enough
In my time?
song performed by by Voivod
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Yeheyy It Is A Holiday Today
Philippines,11: 13 a.m.
it is a holiday today, officially the President celebrates the
National Heroes' Day
with her soldiers offering flowers for Dr. Jose Rizal,
Apolinario Mabini, Juan Luna, etcetera, etcetera
(sounds of trumpets and gun salutes
release the doves that symbolize purity and freedom and peace
to the confused and polluted atmosphere)
i sit and write this poem and the other Bisayan poems for my
bisdak friends remembering the past and how we must be angry
about the present,
let us not talk about the future, we may become revolutionaries
again,
i stop. i stare at the wall. i open the window, Look at the dry fields of rice,
and some sparrows
yes, the sparrow unit, still killing some policemen and raiding
far municipalities and
i remember the moslems, their agongs, and malongs and clean rivers
and silent determinations to be free...
brothers killing brothers? oh too normal, too sane to kill another brother
in this country and the
government soldiers, yes, they too kill, as a matter of fact if you are too
candid,
like me, oh, they may not hesitate too, to kill all of us, but
do not take me by mistake, i belong to the government and i still support it,
even if is too hot yet to be hot
again.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Shouting...
i cannot sleep for this constant shouting...
the shouting of trees, the shouting of alleyways,
the shouting of rats crawling through trash.
the shouting of needles and Family Bibles,
the shouting of flags folded and given.
the shouting of machines, abandoned and morose,
the shouting of fields gone barren.
the shouting of poverty ripping color from being,
the shouting of hunger in faces silent.
the shouting of guns loaded and unloaded,
the shouting of clinics, filled without names.
the shouting of prayers wriiten in pavement,
the shouting of rivers filled with sewage.
the shouting of birth, and the shouting of death...
the shouting of love, distant and forgotten.
the shouting of god, in doubt's innumerable forms.
poem by Eric Cockrell
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My Friend You Must....
we always want to spend
Christmas on the beach
what is it that we want to be reminded of?
the sands?
yes what about the sand?
when we arrive there
the kids run to meet the sea with laughter
the sea breeze is salty yet cool
the trees are tall and big and shady
the silent sands are peopled now
we will be too busy with fun
feeling saved and going public with
all that happiness gives us
the silent sands look at us with a gaze
it has a record of the past
it has absorbed the memories of the sea
it looks at us with pity
what is it about the sands?
and their silence?
i think i know it
but my friend you must find it yourself.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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found Love Letter...bugger
My Dearest,
I think this is meant to be! ....... a test! this will make what we have so much stronger. To yearn so much is testament to this.
Thru out history lovers have steeled themselves to this very task.
I ask you my lovely to trust me. I am yours! only yours! .........
I am sorry my love, lol... but i am not going anywhere!
I long to look upon you, into your eyes, into the well of your soul-This is where home truly is...I feel safe here, as I did the first time: -)
Just think my love you will be the one looking into the sky! ... waiting... I too will be looking and waiting.
I remember the first time we walked up our hill, my god I was nervous, were you? I miss our walks so much, when I walk anywhere now I look at my shadow.. imagining/expecting you to be there. When we next come together I think we will walk some more! !
I have looked upon your pictures many times and many more no doubt, but I find these are hollow compared to what I yearn for; your flesh, your smell, your compassion, your wisdom....
My baby, I am sad because you are feeling what I am feeling, it is growing and wont go away-what is it my love?
I have tried being busy but that only keeps me away from hearing your sweet voice......
All i can think about is the next time we will meet? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? meet----MEET--my baby we are not going to, just meet! ! !
There is no word that can describe our forthcoming union,
the coming together of two old souls--souls who laugh at our dancing about,
restricted by society and 'proper manners'.
they are confused, the ancients--
'what are these fools doing? '---
'can they not sense the age old calling? '.-------
do they weep my love? for us? as I do! is that the pain we feel? ? ? ? ? ? ?
As you said my love....the light will guide us----
I believe with every thing that the ancients will watch over us....
x until next we talk. I cannot stand it to say good bye.......it is too final--------
I WILL see you
faithfully yours,
Self-searching
we always want to spend
Independence Day on the beach
what is it that we want to be reminded of?
the sands? yes what about the sand?
the grains?
when we arrive there
the kids run to meet the sea with laughter
the sea breeze is salty yet cool
the trees are tall and big and shady
the silent sands are peopled now
we will be too busy with fun
feeling saved and going public with
all that happiness gives us
the silent sands look at us with a gaze
it has a record of the past
it has absorbed the memories of the sea
it looks at us with pity
what is it about the sands and their silence?
i think i know it but my friend you must find it yourself.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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