an unhappy childhood of this man who names himself 'I'.....
i've seen this picture of you
on that far corner of the world
land of snow and you are inside that very thick
winter clothes
there is that smile in your face
and i am taking a closer look
it is sour.
i know what sour is. I've been one for forty years
wearing that
sour smile, and i have many reasons why a smile must be sour
for forty years
the reasons are sour
very sour
beyond those tastes of a hundred green lemons
or a green mango with some disturbing gums on its mouth
i burned all my pictures in college
except those when i was yet a boy beside my mama and our white dog
i was in grade one and i did not like school and mama forced me into it
i was selling chocolates and i ate them all and mama was mad at me and beat me with a stick
papa did not like me reading books as he does not know how to read
i climb trees and hide on the leaves and read stories
in our dialect and draw some pictures of women without their dresses on
you see i still have this picture of myself riding a carabao and hauling some wood and coconut palms
i take a close look of my own smile, It is very sour
and it tastes like yours, but perhaps mine is the worst
but i am happy now, i know how to suppress sour smiles, i know how to manage and project myself
i smile like a cow now, and laugh like a horse
because all of them are dead.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
What Is It That You Like?
don't you like this sweetness
of my words?
you are bored with this sugar
and honey
and cream?
you are afraid you have become
sick of such
sweet tongue
such sweet indulgence?
oh, you want something bitter
something sour now?
some bitter herbs some sour
species of green lemons?
try me,
i am a bitter person
i am the latest delicacy of
all that is sour
and
decomposing.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Sour
some fruits are loved
for their being sour
it is their sourness
that reminds of their essence
like the green mango
it is even missed more
than when it ripened
but with you my love
do not worry
sour or sweet or bitter
we will always be together
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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So You Don't Like The Sour Man?
so, here you are again, feeling sorry for the sour man
the one who does not know how to stretch his face
to make a smile
the one consumed by the ghosts of his own worries
that never came
the one who stays in the nook
afraid,
you do not like this sour man
scared, not easy to handle, expensive
to the pocket
you do not find him
a good company to your sports
laughter
and happy-go-lucky
merry, merry, merry,
round and round
telling people hey life is short why not just enjoy every minute of it
savor the moments
lick every sweet dropp of life like honey to your finger
finger licking good
till the last dropp till the supply lasts
take today, today, today, why worry about tomorrow
oh, you do not like the sour man
and you are angry at him
well, it is sad, the sour man has conquered you.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Ode to A Sour Pickle
Ode to a sour pickle,
To pucker up your puss.
Lay down a shiny nickel,
Come on, don't be a wuss.
The heck with kosher dills,
And sweet little pickles too.
It's sour pickles for your gills,
Can't take a thing in lieu.
A big ole sour pickle,
Will bring on a grimace.
Where they're concerned I'm fickle,
Please bear me no malice.
12/23/10 Alton Texas
poem by by unknown author
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Sweet Sour Apple Bites
Orchard of apple and variety
Here you come, the apples lover
Come sing and praise like always
'Shining around the skin
Your colour is my favorite apple
The fresh one
So is your taste'
Apples smile and sing
'If i am green
A sweet sour love
Bite one, bite two
Bite still
Taste me my apples lover
Taste my sweet sour love
I'm green and sour
Pluck me bite me my lover'
The hunter replies
Bite one and some
Tasted your sour love
Bite still because i am the apple lover'
Apples smile continue the song
'If i am red apple
Sweet and moist
Bite one, then two
Bite more
Taste my sweet life
I'm red and taste nice
Bite one bite some
Taste me sweet you will like it'
'Green or Red
Bite sweet or bite sour
I must love you my apples
simply because...
I am the true apple lover'
Explained hunter
Sweet red or sour green
Sugar rich energy will reach your heart sooner
Running in your blood and pump the beat so dear
'O apples my dear i grow you in orchard to be with me so near'
Confessed by gardener, before apple answered
'You work hard and love so sincere, will fruit you love every year'
Bite one, sweet or sour everyday
Promise keeps you away from doctor
Bite one Bite some Bite all say the lover
Energy, Protect you always said apple
If you love something, make it further
This is what apple and hunter tell you, No Fears
Credit to Ahmed Khaled to point some issues of apples
so what i can say here it was inspired by Ahmed Khaled and fair to say this is our collaboration. Took of the chance to dedicate this poem for Steve, Co founder of Apple...All his courage to chase his dream is what i really called as an apple lover...
Meaning of this poem,
I want to talk about 'Do what you want' choose what you like
It's not all about apples, it is about...if you have a dream (your future)
make it real either you taste it difficult or easy you will always enjoyed it
just like i tell you in the story, green or red, sweet or sour
the apple hunter/gardener still like it, why simple cause the hunter like it
..As you know what you like and nod for the challenge, you will
get satisfied with what are you having, doing...it's your favorite choice
..Include the words 'An apple a day keeps doctor away' hoping you
understand, you will safe and satisfy if you choose the path you like
and you will safe from regret..Chase your dream :) _Unwritten Soul
poem by Unwritten Soul
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433
A Picture In Black And White Always Brings Nostalgia
For Instance The Picture Of Mama And Papa
Beside Their Daughters
Named Leonor With The Pony Tail
Betty With The Tiny Curls
And Delia
With Her Expensive Smile
(She Seems To Frown In All The Other
Pictures)
And There Was This Bouncy, Plump Boy
Wrapped With Silky Cloth
That Mama Held So Tightly In Her Arms
As Papa Sat On A
Big Rosewood Chair
Like General Mcarthur
Not Afraid Of The War
His Left Hand Inside His
Pant Pocket While
The Other Hand Was Holding
Mama’s Waist
I Know That Boy
With A Big Smile As Though Life
Is A Big Joke
That Boy Was Supposedly
Their Only Boy
It Was Me
And Then Ten Years Later
My Brother Came
I Did Not Know Why There Was
No Other Picture
Like That
A Family, For The Time Being
Let My Brother Tell You
We Are Never Close And I Do Not Like
To Tell The Truth
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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A Picture
a picture in black and white always brings nostalgia
for instance the picture of mama and papa
beside their daughters
named leonor with the pony tail
betty with the tiny curls
and delia
with her expensive smile
(she seems to frown in all the other
pictures)
and there was this bouncy, plump boy
wrapped with silky cloth
that mama held so tightly in her arms
as papa sat on a
big rosewood chair
like general mcarthur
not afraid of the war
his left hand inside his
pant pocket while
the other hand was holding
mama's waist
i know that boy
with a big smile as though life
is a big joke
that boy was supposedly
their only boy
it was me
and then ten years later
my brother came
i did not know why there was
no other picture
like that
a family, for the time being
let my brother
tell you
we are never close and i do not like
to tell the truth
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Fruity Taste of Life
Sweet and sour is life
What yours shall be, destiny shall contrive
But dependence on destiny shall decrease
And it will then depend on you, my friend decrees
What say you to that?
What surprise can pull from the hat?
Think of the sweet Tangerine
Perhaps you would, the sour Tamarind
They both spell L-I-F-E
For not even in strife
Shall the sweet in Tangerine
Be comparable to the sour in Tamarind
poem by Maureen Oby Iwueke Gbagir
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Ghazal 119
I don't need
a companion who is
nasty sad and sour
the one who is
like a grave
dark depressing and bitter
a sweetheart is a mirror
a friend a delicious cake
it isn't worth spending
an hour with anyone else
a companion who is
in love only with the self
has five distinct characters
stone hearted
unsure of every step
lazy and disinterested
keeping a poisonous face
the more this companion waits around
the more bitter everything will get
just like a vinegar
getting more sour with time
enough is said about
sour and bitter faces
a heart filled with desire for
sweetness and tender souls
must not waste itself with unsavory matters
Song Seven
Song Seven
you cant sit up
you fell too fast
you come at the right time
you come too fast
you bloom in spring
you move the sky
youve come in singing
you call me a liar
you were like a cloud
yes you are a flower
then you were a lime
now our love is sour
you were like a flower
you were just like a flower
then you were a lime
now our love is sour
dont give up (I owe you)
no dont give up
oh dont give up
dont give up (I owe you)
you were like a cloud
yes you were a flower
then you were a lime
now our love is sour
you were like a cloud
you were just like a flower
then you were a lime
now our love is sour
here I feel I wish I could just see it
the love the hate the things that separate
forcing conscious to conscious every small attack
it takes a small man to notice but not to act up
confrontation complication needs a foundation
I'm calm baby, I'm calm
you were like a cloud
yes you are a flower you move i love life is all we need
then you were a lime
now our love is so sour you move i love life is all we need
so sour
so sour
dont give up
no dont give up
oh dont give up
no dont give up
start again butterfly
start again butterfly
start again butterfly
start again, start again dear
song performed by by Interpol
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Lee Emmett
The World she light up with her happy smile
And there's a cheerful warmth in her hello
She takes with her the gift of happiness
And spread it around everywhere she go.
Lee Emmett should be named the queen of smile
She has about her such a happy way
I've yet to see her sour faced and withdrawn
Her smile light up the very dullest day.
Perhaps she too has worries like us all
But to smile to her seems to come naturally
This World for her seems much a brighter place
And only cheerfulness in her I see.
What has Lee Emmett got that most don't have
For one that marvellous smile that she possess
She has a natural sweetness in her smile
That only could be born of naturalness.
Lee Emmett should be named the queen of smile
For there is none so good to smile as she
And the World would be a brighter happier place
If everyone could smile so easily.
poem by Francis Duggan
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The Fortune Teller
An old crow
looked deeply
into...
a sour girl’s
empty Coca Cola glass.
To
read
her
story
still foaming.
If you marry
in middle age;
froth
told patterned;
within chipped glass.
When tired
of living alone;
when even
unable to live;
with sour self anymore.
Then
you will
rash reluctantly marry.
Your choice to chose
is not your own.
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Sour Milk-cow Blues
You like coffee and you like tea
Much more than you like me
And everybody says watch out yeah
For the sour milk-cow blues
You like your coffee just a little too sweet
Without your sugar life is incomplete
And everybody says watch out yeah
For the sour milk-cow blues
I think about you everyday
Something about you is not the same
Something about the things you say
Sounds like a different woman with a different name
Sour milk-cow blues
You wear a different size and style of shoe
I think that someone must be poisoning you
To replace you with a living double
Get out of my life right now and save them all of the trouble
They changed your complexion and your personality
Somebodys putting ideas in your head
They took the girl of my dreams and left you here instead
Sour milk-cow blues
You take your place in this parade of pleas
You dial a number and they offer relief
All alone with just your own device
They give you something and it isnt advice
To break the hearts of a million listeners
Start out as lovers and you end up as prisoners
Somebodys suffering from the things that you do
Somebodys suffering but youre glad it isnt you
Put your fingertips up to the screen
Repeat after me, wake at the count of three
Now I dont know which is worse
What theyre doing to you or what youre doing to me
Sour milk-cow blues
song performed by by Elvis Costello
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Sour Lemon Tree
A sour lemon tree flower attracts the bee
While its fruit is bitter not so its flower
White is its flower sweet and very pretty
Only the fruit is bitter and that's just a pity
As the beauty of its flower resist not a bee
It's the simple truth
Or see the sour lemon tree
With fruit that is bitter bears a lemon tree
But useful is its fruit good for everyday use
Once said a bee... your flower is very sweet
It carries fragrance scented out in the street
Yet bears you fruit bitter no one wants to eat
It's partly the truth
Or see the sour lemon tree
A citrus tree with fruit no other tree bears
Then out of the tree came a nice neat voice
'Twas like a voice of one who's very wise
This is what it said trees are not so free
One made a decree for every bearing tree
It's partly the truth
Or see the sour lemon tree
The Creator decides the fruit a tree bears
Whether it be bitter or whether it be sweet
The Creator decrees for every bearing tree
To bring forth fruit ordained for it to bear
Then sweet or bitter bears a tree its fruit
It's the simple truth
Or see the sour lemon tree.
poem by Clarence Prince
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Pint of Thoughts
I found a sour pint of milk,
Flashing and smiling like an act of money.
Five hundred tubes of milk, sweeter,
I purchased from the provider of happiness.
They were thoughts, greater thinkers make,
Like those philosophical creams always pondered.
I found the sour pint of milk,
And used it for thinking purposes,
Drinking it whole, for nobody,
For the first time.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Lemon Sorrow
Have you ever tasted sorrow,
I think it taste like lemons,
If all feelings had a taste i think of lemons,
They can be sour then can get sweet,
Lemons sweet or sour then comes the sorrow taste,
Sorrow taste of rain,
Sorrow taste of lemons,
poem by Samantha Guinen
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Sour Milk Sea
If your lifes not right, doesnt satisfy you
Dont get the breaks like some of us do
Better work it out; find where youve gone wrong
Better do it soon as you dont have long
Get out of sour milk sea
You dont belong there
Get back to where you should be
Find out whats going on there
If you want the most from everything you do
In the shortest time your dreams come true
In no time at all it makes you more aware
Very simple process takes you there
Get out of sour milk sea
You dont belong there
Get back to where you should be
Find out whats going on there
Looking for release from limitation?
Theres nothing much without illumination
Can fool-around with every different cult
Theres only one way brings result
Get out of sour milk sea
You dont belong there
Get back to where you should be
Find out whats going on there
song performed by by George Harrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sweet And Sour
but some mornings
while of course you’d like to write
a poem, there’s nothing there;
so you read a poem that ‘someone else’ wrote
though of course it’s your mind reading it
and after you/I read it,
there drifted into the mind the phrase
‘the sweetness of life’…
a phrase more common,
even more evocative -
‘douceur de vie’
(or even plural.. ‘petit douceurs’…))
in French writings..
how wonderful the workings
of the mind: that first, tiny
explosion of consciousness in the mind
instantly offers in language
duality; and opposites;
take your choice,
and be bound by it…
so, there was sweetness: which this morning
seemed a mile away;
and… sourness! Yes, of course!
life has been… just a little sour… these last few weeks
for no apparent reason – though of course
I could offer reasons flattering to me…
Yet also, heavenly grace, as it may be,
presenting duality, allows
the glory of a unity to be seen:
this morning, knowing life as both sweet and sour,
both and neither,
I’ll choose what’s been lacking
(which is the definition of pure desire…) and
without even the wish to elaborate –
just to name it, in its beauty to the mind,
the sweetness of life;
it’s like a poem in itself.
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Contemporary Poetry (2)
contemporary poetry
is nice to read since they are
not cliches, very much unlike
shakespeare or
mary oliver
i 've seen one and read it
over and over again
it feels like
trickling rain from
my forehead to my
spine
like this:
rain
rain
go
away
come
back
an
other
d
a
y....
i am amazed
i think i will write about jack and jill went up the hill to get a pail of water.
jack forgot and
what is that? jill come rolling after?
the pail.
i am bitter.
sour i mean.
i don't belong
i am one kind of a frustrated contemp...
orary wri
ter.
well, i will try next time
i have to reread
bukowski's advice
i will wait
till the next tick.
oh well,
i got other things to do.
the grapes are sour anyway.
(cliche duh!)
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Overload Sugar Rush
Candy coated apples
Chocolate ice cream with just a bit of sprinkles
Tangy mike and Ike
Skittle flavored milkshakes with cherries on top
Gingerbread cookies with a strike of milk
Watery lemonade
Cupcakes of wonder
Twisted vines of vanilla extract
Banana cream pie with whip cream on top
Just the perfect life full of innocence
Sour patches running through the veins of angel cake
Dry gumdrops running the chocolate wafers
A Fein for the extra sugar planted down the roots which she dare not goes
The black roses that stood from the berry rush
Just a strawberry ruining the veins of innocence
The black licorice is was just so irresistible wanting to try it
But too afraid for it gives you addiction to the darkness
The rotten sweetness of a teenage girl
A strawberry to a blackberry
Consideration and a fan of sweet suicide
Vitamin pills that scream “eat me I’m death! ! ! ”
Tempting to do it, she asks for a peck of beauty to awaken
No savior from the ugliness of the sour patches
She cries watery fruit punch that gives diabetes
She shall never have candy coated apples again they all say
But she smiles hours later because she realizes
She isn’t the only one who lost her sweetness
Because she looks at me as a role model
Because I myself have sour patches too
And we all who have lost our sweetness to the evil sour patches
Shall stand together holding hands fighting it as one
We will shoot those sour patches with fireballs of sweetness
And we shall laugh as they fall
Don’t shed a tear girl
Because we are sour patches hoping to become sweet again
And candy coated apples we shall be someday! ! ! ! ! !
poem by Marie Jones
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