At The Second Floor
at the second floor of the old house
he goes up
taking the creaking stairs
as though telling him some old stories
about the falling of the
clan house to ashes for years
no one dared say
about the fall of this family
there are whispers
not louder as a thud of a cat's foot
limping on the carpet
up there is the open space overlooking the blue sea
a white sail and some foams of the sea caps
catch his attention but he can not withstand such a distant view
his eyes are hurt by too much light and tiny object
he looks at the nearby tree
old mahogany spreading its branches touching the roof
there is this single leaf that falls
a hush of the wind
twirling to the shaded space
it lands on the pebbles
nothing is heard but he has seen it all
the fall.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Related quotes
When The Rain Stopped Falling
there is this heavy rain
falling on top of your roof and it is so disturbing
that you wake up
and lock your windows
to shut yourself away from the sounds
of falling
but you cannot help worrying even when you cannot
literally hear the sound of the falling rain
you still imagine how they fall inside your mind
as though you can hear every syllable that every neddle of rain
is pricking in your brain
your ears
and your eyes still have the image of these
series of fallings
that even if the rain finally stopped
and you open your window to check
in the middle of this time
when morning cracks fromt the shutters of your windows
you still think like crazy
you hear the sound of the wind and it is like the sound of the falling
rain
and even if the wind has left like a leaf flown to the eastern side
of your house
even if there is no shadow of the leaf anymore
you hear your heart falling from your chest
now you must accept
leaving.
now you must accept the pain.
do not deny it.
it is you that is falling out
from the grace of her love.
it is you.
cry it out!
shout it!
it is you.!
it is you!
it is not the rain, it is not the wind, it is not the leaf that was blown away
towards the eastern part of the house.it is not the design of the house.
it is not the purple curtains. it is not the lonely courtyard
it is not the red bowl. it is not the tower.
it is not the blank sheets of paper.
it is not the bell.
it is not the winding stairs.
it is not the dirty garage.
it is not the scaffold.
it is not the white paint.
it is not the doorbell.
it is not the turbulence of the plane.
it is not the slap of the hand.
it is not the blue fan.
it is not the cellophance floating in the air and whirling in that corner
a dead-end.
it is you! and that is the truth!
be calm now. wipe the tears.
try sleep and dream.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Afternoon View When The Office Is About To Close
from my window
you must have probably heard me about saying the same thing all over again
but i will say it again
the sea is very calm like a sky blue silk spread on the floor
the horizon is pale white like the color of shyness
at a distance there is a boat
the man just spread the fish net
a tiny bird hops from one dry twig to another
another leaf on the other branch falls because it is bound to fall
yellow leaves, those dead ones
caught by the fingers of the grasses below
and then the sound of sirens comes
it is now time to go
now my heart sings with joy
for another night perhaps with the stars high on the roof of my house
in my solitude.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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A House Without Stairs
do not say
that without the stairs
the house is not a house anymore
without the ceiling
the more the house becomes to me
take the roof
if you want
or the beams
or even the floor and window frames
my house will still be a house
the sky its roof
the stretching grassy plain its floor
all the stars become
my magnificent ceiling
whatever is taken
we must imagine that all things are still there
lest we only have a house
that crashes on the floor
with all of us
dead
crushed to the death of
our imaginations
a door without an exit
because you have not seen hope coming
the lock and key
are all in the mind and heart
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Freedoms
you see it is not the gate of the house
that sets you free
it is not the stairs
not the hole in the roof that gives you
some needles of light
actually it is the breath that you take
it is air that is free
it is the space of green spreading in your
garden
those tall grasses you decide to mow
it is the pebbles that you collect and begin to recall
the story of each fragment
and cracks
it is the clouds that you see when you lay your head
upon the arm of an old sofa
where you father once rested from
too much exhaustion
it is the memory of someone that you remember
you love and who loves you in return
and who was stripped off away from you
like a sticker on the wall
mind you, it is your wise invention
with wings that give you flight when everything gets too bitter
mind you, it is the mind
it is the spirit, never these sets of fingers
these smooth skins
this open mouth...
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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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
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Santa Claus Is Back In Town
Ooh yeah mmmhmmm
I was walking home on christmas eve
The whole neighborhood was fast asleep
The snow was falling, coming down hard
The place looked like a picture post card
And when my house came into view
I noticed something up on the roof
You cant imagine my surprise
When I looked up and realized
It was santa on the rooftop
And our house was santas first roof stop
The reindeer were quiet as a mouse
Didnt make a sound
Santa got ready to make his way down
He had one foot in the chimney
Destination our brand new christmas tree
I knew everyone was gonna be shocked
When I told them I saw santa on the rooftop
I tried to get home right away
But I was just a little too late
The gifts were laid out under the tree
But no sign of mr. sc
I ran over to the fireplace
But there was nothing but an empty space
Got everybody up out of bed
Their eyes opened wide when I said
It was santa on the rooftop
And our house was santas first roof stop
The reindeer were quiet as a mouse
Didnt make a sound
Santa got ready to make his way down
He had one foot in the chimney
Destination our brand new christmas tree
I knew everyone was gonna be shocked
When I told them I saw santa on the rooftop
Some people think the mans a myth
I had my doubts, I admit
Theyll laugh and criticize
When somebody says with that look in their eyes
It was santa on the rooftop
And our house was santas first roof stop
The reindeer were quiet as a mouse
Didnt make a sound
Santa got ready to make his way down
One foot in the chimney
Destination our brand new christmas tree yeah
I knew everyone was gonna be shocked
When I told them I saw santa on the rooftop
Oh yeah
When I told them I saw santa on the rooftop
Whoa
When I said I saw santa on the rooftop
I saw santa
Santa on the rooftop
Hello mr. saint nick (santa on the rooftop)
Why dont you come on down and gimme some ho ho ho (I saw santa)
Come on santa (santa on the rooftop)
Bring it over here (I saw santa)
Lay it on me! (santa on the rooftop)
Santa on the rooftop...
song performed by by Trisha Yearwood
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Building A Big House
you build a big house
with one thought, a wish
that something may last forever
like love, like the finest wood
like a relationship,
or say
(let me say it this way)
a marriage, like strong stairs
inviting attention to society
that no one is leaving
like a door closing behind
a sigh,
but a house with time falls
pillars collide, and floors go
termite eaten to the ground
doors fall out from the hinges
that hold them it their frames,
nothing lasts forever
i know,
i build a house because i know
what love is
i want to give it shelter and warmth
like those rooms
a glow like those living rooms
a nice dinner
like the kitchen and the dining tables.
i do not think beyond my body
that turns to dust
i know
i do not utter beyond my words, i know,
no words can withstand the
lures of the niceties of a lie.
i know
i build the house because we are here
and there is nothing
worth doing
there is no snow and ski is irrelevant.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Object
You know you turn me on
Eyes so white and legs so long
But don't try to talk to me
I won't listen to your lies
You're just an object in my eyes
You're just an object in my eyes
Sophisticated smile
You seduce in such fine style
But don't try to fool me
'cause i can see through your disguise
You're just an object in my eyes
You're just an object in my eyes
But i don't mind
I just don't care
I've got no objection
To you touching me there
Object object
Object object
Object object
Object object
You know just what to do
Lick your lips
And i want you
But don't try to hold me
'cause i don't want any ties
You're just an object in my eyes
You're just an object in my eyes
But i don't mind
I just don't care
I've got no objections
To you touching me there
You're just an object object
Object object
You're just an object
song performed by by Cure
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Lucky Me
(toby keith/ron reynolds)
I can leave my dirty laundry lyin anywhere
If I dont make my bed its alright, no one ever goes in there
I can fall asleep on the couch and leave the tv on
cause Ive got the whole place to myself
Now that all her things are gone
Lucky me, Ive got room to breathe
With her out of my way, Im not crowded anymore
And finally, Ive got all the space I need to walk the floor
Lucky me
Now Ive got last weeks dishes still piled up in the sink
And lots of time here on my hands to sit around and think
Im better off in this house alone, its a blessing in disguise
And her leavin came along, I know
Right at the perfect time
Lucky me, Ive got room to breathe
With her out of my way, Im not crowded anymore
And finally, Ive got all the space I need to walk the floor
Lucky me
That sure was a close call, someone could have been hurt
Yeah, she could be missin me but thats not what Ive heard and
Lucky me, Ive got room to breathe
With her out of my way, Im not crowded anymore
And finally, Ive got all the space I need to walk the floor
Lucky me
Lucky me, Ive got all the space I need
Lucky me, Ive got room to breathe
Lucky me
song performed by by Toby Keith
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Hollow Life
Feeding the fall
I can't help but desire of falling down this time
Deep in this hole am I making
I can't escape
Falling all this time
We come to this place
Falling through time
Living a hollow life
Always we're taking
Waiting for signs
Hollow life
Fearing to fall
And still the ground below me calls
Falling down this time
Ripping apart all these things I have tried to stop
Falling down this time
We come to this place
Falling through time
Living a hollow life
Always we're taking
Waiting for signs
Hollow life
Is there ever any wonder
Why we look to the sky
Search space
Asking why?
All alone
where is God?
Looking down
We don't know
We fall in space
We can't look down
Death may come
Peace I have found
What to say
Am I alive?
Am I asleep
Or have I died?
(Haunting me)
We fall in space
We can't look down
Death may come
Peace I have found
(Something takes a part of me)
What to say
Am I alive?
Am I asleep
We fall down
We come to this place
Falling through time
Living a hollow life
Always we're taking
Waiting for signs
Hollow life
song performed by by Korn from Untouchables
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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At The Rural Side Of This World
when i step out of my door
i see a road lined with mahogany trees
an empty wide road
but not that muddy really
at this rainy season of the year
i hear the chirping of birds
and the hushing of the wind
greeting me with the coolness of
an after rain,
the grasses are still wet with dew,
the paths still dappled with water,
the pebbles glistening
to the sunlit view of
the hills which are so green and vibrant
the distant mountains shaded blue
tall and huge their tips almost touching the sky
there are no cars here just wooden sleds
pulled by the cows
of the working men
at the other side of the river nearby
some water buffaloes are restive on
cool wade in their mud holes
their tails whipping their butts
to drive away the gnats
i am waiting for the bus going to the city
the only bus for the day
and it will pass by here at eight.
on the bench opposite where i am seated
three girls are giggling
a handsome boy riding on a horse whistles
at the one with the long black hair
the sun is shining brightly on an ordinary day like this
on the rural side of this world that i have chosen to visit
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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In The Darkness Of The Night
In the darkness of the night
you sneak over the wooden floor in the passage
while you are careful,
taking careful steps to avoid it creaking
avoiding it telling the other people in the house
about our escapades
and when the door of the room suddenly opens
I see you standing there
in a transparent night-gown
while the rays of the moon
falls silver-white over you
through the window
and to me you become a goddess
that brings unspeakable joy.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Through The Veil for Dave Walker
there's a light
in the window
of the house
forgotten by time;
a book on the table,
unopened.
footprints on the floor
covered with dust.
a cup in the sink
half-empty.
the wind blows
curtains grey with time....
whispering, whispering....
names that cannot
be heard.
voices, echoes,
creaking the floor.
a book of photographs
on the closet floor.
walking through the mist,
the fog and the shadows,
touching small particles
of being left like gifts....
lives unwrapped into mine!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Feeling Like A Stranger
in this place
this house without furnitures
all floors, this house with nothing but some stairs
and windows
you built it, i was away for years and we meet again
in this house
of acquaintances
devoid of affection, i have a way of telling what is this all about
by merely looking at the ceiling
there are no lights
to clarify me, who am i? in this house where i am not even a tree
or a vine
rootless, leafless
dying,
shall i continue living here?
i feel so unlike everyone else,
i am a total stranger
in this house that you built
this house devoid of affection,
i guess i have no choice
but to leave at once
otherwise, i too shall perish
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Something Wild
That fugitive dream
of shrinkage:
a room in a room
a door in a door.
You were hurting the house affairs
at midnight.
The space accident
starts dismanteling the life.
Selective pain
comes again.
You start distancing from story touch,
long vision.
The canary brings down
the roof. Somebody was leaving.
The eyes will search another sky,
another tree.
In a light slumber
another fall from the perch.
poem by Satish Verma
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The Wrong House
I went into a house, and it wasn't a house,
It has big steps and a great big hall;
But it hasn't got a garden,
A garden,
A garden,
It isn't like a house at all.
I went into a house, and it wasn't a house,
It has a big garden and great high wall;
But it hasn't got a may-tree,
A may-tree,
A may-tree,
It isn't like a house at all.
I went into a house, and it wasn't a house -
Slow white petals from the may-tree fall;
But it hasn't got a blackbird,
A blackbird,
A blackbird,
It isn't like a house at all.
I went into a house, and I thought it was a house,
I could hear from the may-tree the blackbird call…
But nobody listened to it,
Nobody
Liked it,
Nobody wanted it at all.
poem by Alan Alexander Milne
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I Don't Wanna Lose
Space house of black house of lights
House of moise you've never heard
Full of vacuum and crowded of shadows
Space like a watch with no time
Like a book without an end
An equation and thousands solutions
I don't wanna lose my belief now
song performed by by Eiffel 65 from Contact
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Of Those We Started And Unfinished
there are those which we have already started
years back and still unfinished
no matter how we want to and this bothers us
today. we think how and we invoke why.
there are those which we finished those which we
have done so clumsily and we think we have done no justice
to what have been badly done and we think we are disturbed
that we decided that
this should have been undone
that we should go back to a certain beginning
and redo the things all over again
and give it its shape and color and place
that it rightly deserves
these too bother us.
they keep on going back as dreams
nightmares to be specific
when we sleep they become nagging mouths inside our heads
an old woman wearing black begging to be fed a hearty breakfast
a small child so thin wanting to be hugged by your empty arms
a tiny black bird that cannot sing inside a very small cage
asking you to open a lock
a single leaf on a twig of a dead tree asking you
the hush of a sigh so it can fall and finally be free from the barks
sands of time so dry wanting to be wet with rain asking you
even for just a tear from your eye
so as to taste the dignity of its sorrow
the bother seemingly endless on an edgeless time
and space without doors
we invoke the power of the circle
so we can be just like it
something must have no beginning and no end
and it is given us in this sense of
this forgetting
and just like a circle we move on like the way
a circle rolls itself on the edge of a square table and then
we fall on something without a bottom
that vast ocean without a floor
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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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
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Things That I Cannot Forget
there were lots of
dry leaves under the
mahogany tree
distant from the house
where we live
away from the people
who are against
our relationship
your hands inside my
pocket
your tongue inside my
mouth
i cannot forget the story
you told me once
about the prince
who finally died
in the battle against the
dragon
as the princess waits
finally to be
taken away
today,45 years after
that tryst
i gaze upon a mahogany
stump
the wind is strong
my hat is flown away
i do not chase
anymore
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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