Arriving At The Island... Alone
the boat takes you to the island
the only person there
is you,
the coconut trees rise to the sky
and the white sand spreads
there is a bed
and blanket
and pillow and the glass of wind
and you embrace the body of the sea
and they
who think that you better be left alone
as you like it
have long left everything there
and you put your body down
clothes on the white sands
skin on the tree
and bones under the rocky shorelines
you close your eyes
and begin to fly away
into the abyss of
solitude.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
What A View Of The Sea Today
it is such a beautiful sunny day at the beach
a man with a muscular body rests on the white sand
beside a blue boat under a tall coconut tree
a woman with a beautiful body, pinkish skin arrives
and removes her transparent skirt and plunges to the sea
on a black bikini
the tiny waves of the sea glisten
like some eyes peeping
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
iN dAKAK
We are here in this island
at the back the surrounding mountains
a little near the woods and bushes
we hear the birds singing this morning
it is eight o'clock in the morning
you walk along the coastline
as i watch you
i lay my body on a swing tied
between two coconut trees
under this big pitogo tree
i bathe in air and hear the hush of a
certain longing
it is so peaceful here
the clouds are bluer than in the city
do not ask me why
the sea is like a pastel blue blanket
spread in bed
the silence runs on the white sand
the hermit crabs run and stop and run
i can hear the crumpling of the castles in the sand
last night we built them
i put my buri hat hiding my hair and covering part
of my forehead
the leaves fall inside my mind
there are certain notes of sadness trickling
inside my heart
a cascading loneliness
my ears are hearing them
my arms till now cannot embrace
i do not doubt it
here is this paradise even with her
i still long for you
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
At The Seaside, A Solitude
the seaside is peaceful
the sky is blue with white cumulus clouds hanging there
slowly they move and change shapes
like the air is painting and mixing the colors in space
gentle hues graceful strokes
the white sands extend to some miles
the coconut trees are like handshakes
their shadows restive and steady
i lay my body weary of the years
i look at all these lines and circles and spheres
i like to give up thinking and just be a spectator
i let them talk and i merely listen
the seaside, the seagull, the clouds, the coconut trees, the white sands,
the circles and spheres and lines extending
to nowhere.
i cover my eyes with a straw hat. I cease.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
White Sea
white sea spreading before me
so silky
tiny ripples of the wind
from a far
bringing some stories
from the other island
some leaves fall from
the pitogo tree
some flowers pink and white
lay on the shore
white sands of silence
and peace
seeping in my skin
i am barefoot
i am naked down to the waist
i am waiting
for the sun to descend upon the bosom
of the horizon
i am dreaming of palm trees
soft winds
of summer
a door opens in my mind
i get in
stepping into something new
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
That Afternoon
i was there again
standing by the side of the old
glass windows
hazy because of the dust
it is hazy, hazy
the sea is linen white
the coconut trees as tall as they are very old
planted perhaps before the war
before the Japanese came
and ravished the spirits of our innocent people
i was there again
standing on a moment
always seeing
that rusty van parked
without its front wheel
nobody from there is asking
what is happening
it is hazy, as hazy as dusts
on that old glass window
then a black bird flies through
it breaking the thin old glass
into shattered pieces
the afternoon ended
on that sudden noise
i am telling you
i am not shocked because
i am not new to this
how can i be? i am as old and as
tall as that coconut tree
i am from this place
and i know each grain of sand
on the shore
of that white linen sea.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
For Papa Gregorio
And then I finally reached
The narrow mouth of the river
That you told me about
And I was left with no choice
But to sail right there
On this wooden boat that you
Left me
I did it and here I am getting on
The sight of an island
A bountiful island with brooks
And green grass and
Coconut trees and
Lanzones trees
I am here finally
In accordance with the maps of your dreams
And tonight
I look at your sky
And I see the hundred smiles
Of your glittering stars
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A View
driftwood
with seven twigs
on the shore
as clear as glass
is the water
and all stones and pebbles
are visible
above
blue skies
so blue that the white cotton clouds
appear like sperm cells moving
impregnating
an earth-sky womb
and then
it rains
the water rises
the drift wood again taken
floating
gently to another shore
another island
of white sands
a coconut tree towers
to reach a waft of cloud
winds as cool as ice
sands slipping on the fingers
a leaf from a guyabano tree falls
on the mouth
of a sleeping woman
beside her
the man whose arms are enclosing
her throughout
the rainy night
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Stepping Into Something New This Summer
white sea spreading before me
so silky
tiny ripples of the wind
from a far
bringing some stories
from the other island
some leaves fall from
the pitogo tree
some flowers pink and white
lay on the shore
white sands of silence
and peace
soft whispers of the winds
seeping in my skin
i am barefoot
i am naked down to the waist
i am waiting
for the sun to descend upon the bosom
of the horizon
i am dreaming of palm trees
soft winds
of summer
a door opens in my mind
i get in
stepping into something new this summer
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A Camel's Dream
When he deserted me
I deserted water
When I deserted the water,
it lost its shine crying.
Trees were growing dark in their places
in the woods; that evening he came to take me
with him clearing the thick glow of the sunset hues
then came he to make a path a kind of road
At the end of the road
I became the back he can ride
deserting many things I so long have to long for
while I look at the village
through those green trees
with my deep eyes
I saw him waiving at me
to bid me goodbye.
I was already entering the desert
and a portion of his road became the whole
the entire road for me.
For the borders of the nation he ruled
were the horizons of the four directions,
the sand hills I walk on with him on my back
were always the initial spot I had departed.
Numerous mornings and evenings met
on the rooftops of the sandhills where the
next morning and the sun crossed.
Originally what he wanted from me
was some amount of water he could use,
always in the shape of the water
I obeyed him.
At the same speed as the sunlight speedy
falls on the ground, stars fell.
With the power of the star-falls
the water soaked itself down to the ground
and then to
the roots of the sands.
Whenever his forehead shined
with full of heavenly words
and thirstied,
I dug up the roots of the sands
where the water gathers and kept it
in my body.
When the sun rose,
everything except the sands were
under the power of the sun;
when the wind blew,
everything along with the sands were
under the windy flows.
There I took out the water from my body
and washed his dry face.
When he loved me
I had a large amount of waters.
When he was communicating with someone
in heavens,
I listened to the music the sands were making.
Many trees were there with no shadows,
and the worlds I look through those trees were
always moving forward.
Through those trees the wind blew.
The thicket-bushes were weeping
and there came about some animals
who loved the bushes, and the one
who rides on my back
lets things to be ruled ruled
lets things to die dead.
He stands the trees and the animals
that resemble each other on their spots
then he passes by.
In the mean time he took out the water
from my body numerous times
and drank it to cleanse his body.
His songs made the sand hills
create echoes to echo
to ring through the regions afar.
When he finally changed the desert into the sea,
at its open entrance
I began to grow old all alone.
Though I wanted to serve him on the sea
he walked away from me
onto the sea.
Many years have gone by
and come along and
for me not to serve him on the sea
meant to go back to the desert, and
the sea had turned into the desert back again.
At its entrance to the sea,
I could not become a small boat for him.
All day long, I was lonely;
all night long, lonesome for days.
When he left me, I deserted the water,
I deserted again the act of deserting
and by deserting it, I no longer was left
to exist.
poem by by unknown author (22 June 2003), translated by Sangnam Nam
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
This Is A Discovery
i may not tell you
that in this island
where i take my
long walks in the
morning, i discover
something nice,
i am at home with
myself and i am happy
seeing the vastness
of the white sands
white cotton clouds
resting on high cliffs
trees on top and birds
and a light tower
i think of myself
as another island now.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Production Line
much is much and
so many is like sand sprawling
on the shore... so much so many
and one who lays her body on
the sandy shore
takes sand for granted just another
part of this mass production of
things in her ordinary world: rocks, pebbles, stones,
sands,
what value can there be on a speck of dust
a grain of sand
becomes like her sun, too ordinary for her sunburn-skin
what's got the sun to do with me?
or the sand?
her sunglasses speak for her
in the middle of her empty hours
basking under the sun
production some times, so much for so many
meaninglessness growing like fruits of the poisonous tree
i could have kept one, just one
kept it inside my heart, i could have known what is precious,
diamond, just one,
glittering in the darkest hour of my night.
but there is no one really, all i have are mass produced, and
like sand, i lay my body on the shore, spreading so thinly without
feelings.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Glass Skin
Another epidermis, a glass skin,
Layers over your body and we are
Separated. You're sheltered deep within
Glass skin.
Your paneled eyes have been drifting thus far
From what I see. When did distance begin
To draw you from me and into that jar,
That crystalline casing? Where have you been?
Why can't I understand your avatar,
Your transparent screen as it holds you in
Glass skin?
poem by Tim Stensloff
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Paradise Island
the white moon stoops
and recedes behind tall
coconut trees
its rays of light shimmering
on the ripples
the waves come to me
my boat as purple as the
feelings i have
sail on and on
away from your island
of paradise
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Coconut Grove
She carries her body
like a swing of delights
i got wings too
and i carry my body like
a coconut palm
she will find comfort in my
shade
and my wings shall cover
her body
she becomes a smooth sand
wrapping my body
i am a tree and she will always
be a swing to me.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
At The Middle Part
..and then she faces me
this time exposing every part of her
a tall. lean white body with long black hair
cascading like a waterfall
of silence
she walks towards me
as i lay my head on the pillow
as i signal her to come
and share with me
love and sorrow
and the passion of our presence
she takes a slow movement
her hands touching my hair
her lips getting near
my face
and then we close our eyes
and enter into another world
where we are one
so close
airtight.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Rip
It can't be the passing of time that casts
That white shadow across the waters
Just offshore.
I shiver a little, with the evening.
I turn down the steep path to find
What's left of the river gold.
I whistle a dog lazily, and lazily
A bird whistles me.
Close by a big river, I am alive in my own country,
I am home again.
Yes: I lived here, and here, and my name,
That I carved young, with a girl's, is healed over, now,
And lies sleeping beneath the inward sky
Of a tree's skin, close to the quick.
It's best to keep still.
But:
There goes that bird that whistled me down here
To the river a moment ago.
Who is he? A little white barn owl from Hudson's Bay,
Flown out of his range here, and, if he wants to,
He can be the body that casts
That white shadow across the waters
Just offshore.
poem by James Arlington Wright
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A Reflex
Your eyes go white—they look backwards to see
The inside of your skull. Is it empty?
Your head caves into your neck—it's spinning,
Floating away simultaneously.
You blink, breathing little—the air's thinning.
A cold wind blows your body—then trembling—
And sweat freezes to your raw, thawing skin.
The ice will crack. Fractures are impending.
Fractal auras of scotoma sink it,
Blotching patches of sight. Shadows begin
To flash as your bones melt and drop. You've left
Yourself, so your chest clenches to open.
The soul and the self split into a cleft—
With amnesiac thoughts—and you're bereft
Of voluntary movements. You're not deft
With your hands—gestures stolen from their theft.
poem by Tim Stensloff
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The White Woman At Sunset Boulevard
she was the woman who left me.
She hands me the back of her bones.
she does not bother looking anymore at the past.
she hates me. she detests
every word that i say.
she will not answer my call.
She says i am a liar and had always been lying to her.
The dirt in my arms are terrible, she says, these arms
that used to hold her too tightly that she cannot breathe
are broken branches of the rotten tree.
She walks away towards the dark side of the sunset boulevard, that place unreachable by the night lights. Beyond the hold of my arms, beyond the grasp of my lips.
she already loosened all the screws and bolts of the bicycle
that we used to ride together every afternoon on this sunset boulevard.
all the parts are scattered near the shore of the sea.
The waves reached them and they all get too rusty.
She does not talk to me anymore, this white woman at sunset boulevard.
She walks fast.
She runs.
Her eyes sharp, and flaming with anger against the rage of the dark,
away from the city lights, away from my lies, away from the
warmth of my whisper.
I am her wrath.
I am the source and cause of her anger.
Her pains, her sorrows for years and years when i left her
without leaving any word.
When my name was finally eaten by the waves of the sea in
sunset boulevard. When she drowned.
she left rushing like a storm towards another island.
she destroys houses and
fell the trees.
She goes away just like that, as quickly as suddenly
as a gnashing teeth of the cyclone.
I whispered her name to calm her down.
She hurriedly left.
She did not see that tears too that fell to the sand. They are mine. Salty, fresh tears. Hidden inside my bags for years. Twenty-five years of solitude.
More than that for my loneliness on an unknown island where i was stranded beyond my power. There was not a single boat to take me to her.
She did not
look back. She would not believe me.
But she is right.
My tears are not as salty as the whole sea that she swallowed when she drowned on that very day when i left her.
I have not
given her the reason. I have them ready from the bottom of my heart.
She tells her friends:
She does not want to be duped again. One of me, is enough.She is gone.
I happened to her once in her lifetime. She, is likewise.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Acting
we may pretend
sometimes that i am this handsome guy
and you are this beautiful woman
we go to the beach
i am wearing my white speedo
and you are in your red bikini
a two-piece suit
we imagine we stroll the beach one fine day
holding hands
and then we sit on the white sand
your head in the embrace of my strong arms
i encircle your body and i look to the blue horizon
and dissolve my thoughts
you smile
& you close your eyes and feel the joy of loving
we imagine
there is only the two of us in this island of desire
we kiss and we hold each other tight
we feel so close
and we make love under the moon
i feel your heart beating inside my heart
and i say i love you and you say you love me too
we imagine a lot and
try this fantasy for once
sometimes i ask: why don't we make it true?
these feelings inside us may burst
soon i tell you
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Clustered
Was busy
carving out the white clouds
like stanzas, unflawed.
Now I begin to fall apart.
No meaning was left in a drink.
You could see only your image
drowning in a scented charity.
At last I am watching myself.
Black paper. The ink was white.
Speechless. No body language.
Only you will discover the space
between the unspoken words.
Only buttons know the hollowness
of a floating gun. Meeting you in
an empty glass. Future will always
talk of a setting sun.
poem by Satish Verma
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!