Back To Its Origin....
for now my streets
are silent
the pond has become
clear and
still again
back to the self
unfazed by all the changes
of the weathers.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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I Could Have Told You
THAT YELLOW
SOLO LEAF floating on a very clear pond,
was it last summer?
will it really matter when someone is finally gone?
will the wind remember?
will the deep water of the pond be always true to its clarity and peace?
that yellow leaf that sank on the very clear pond on one peaceful day
will someone still remember?
i think, i will,
if i, too, shall live
longer than
you.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Clouds Of Narcissus
the clouds of narcissus pass by today
along a clear pond by the side of a rice paddy
they stop to get a good glimpse of their faces and bodies
cottony white, shades of blue, pluffy, and soft
they stop and take a longer gaze, admiring every
beauty of its hands and fingers, a longer time
an island of grass some reeds and dry leaves
get curious about what is happening why the clouds
stop and made a longer stare over the clear reflection
of their bodies on the little pond. They talk. They are curious.
and then the clouds finally get done with what is usual.
they left. Slowly sail away from what they are seeing lovingly.
Nothing happens since then. They own no one.No one owns them.
They leave. They do not know how to love. Neither are they loved.
They are gone. The island of grass is silent. The reeds hush.
And the pond has become murky.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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R 4
no matter how tight you hold captive
the cat on the rope
even if you shut it from the windows of your world
into the vacuum of
the most silent of all indifference
into the consuming fires of hate
you cannot
hide the voice and put the face into
the insignificance of the ash
because the dust is dust and it will always speak
about the truth of an origin
because the past intimacy rises again
to put you back at its own prison
and in that clear pond where you once sat and took a look
there, there you can see again
the face of
Narcissus, the shadow of selfishness
it dives and then die there again
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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My Silent Undoing
my silent undoing
my silent undoing
my silent undoing
my silent undoing
my wasp in a jar
protruding hips
and skull, and spine
ribcage cuts a clear outline
oh, oh
all roped up and pinching in
distorted and disfiguring
oh, oh
my silent undoing
my silent undoing
my wasp in a jar
no photographs around the back
emaciated, iron flat
oh, oh
dehydrated cutting bones
today i'm over 7 stone
oh, oh
my wasp in a jar
my wasp in a jar
my wasp in a jar
twinkle little star
my wasp in a jar.
song performed by by Queen Adreena
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Your mind is like water in a pond
Observe the water in a pond
Keep it still and particles will sediment to ground
Only then the surface becomes transparent and clear
Our reflections we can view without a blur
When wind blows and creates waves on the surface
Those sediments will be stirred up and make the water opaque
Then the water surface is no longer transparent and clear
And our reflections in it will become just blurs
Our mind is like water in that pond
Only when still and calm it can be clear and strong
If we let external forces disturb our still and calm mind
By those things we will be controlled and beguiled.
poem by Henry Chen
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Blackout
Oh you, you walk on past
Your lips cut a smile on your face
Your scalding face
To the cage, to the cage
She was a beauty in a cage
Too, too high a price
To drink rotting wine from your hands
Your fearful hands
Get me to a doctors Ive been told
Someones back in town the chips are down
I just cut and blackout
Im under japanese influence
And my honours at stake
The weathers grim, ice on the cages
Me, Im robin hood and I puff on my cigarette
Panthers are steaming, stalking, screaming
If you dont stay tonight
I will take that plane tonight
Ive nothing to lose, nothing to gain
Ill kiss you in the rain
Kiss you in the rain
Kiss you in the rain
In the rain
Get me to the doctor
Get me off the streets (get some protection)
Get me on my feet (get some direction)
Hot air gets me into a blackout
Oh, get me off the streets
Get some protection
Oh get me on my feet (wo wo)
While the streets block off
Getting some skin exposure to the blackout (get some protection)
Get me on my feet (get some direction, wo-ooh!)
Oh get me on my feet
Get me off the streets (get some protection)
Get a second
Get wo wo
Yeah
Get a second ? breath on advice ?
And a second blow
Blackout
song performed by by David Bowie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Water so Deep and Profound
Water so sinuous and devious,
And as mystifying as you.
Water is always hiding its true self,
Never in one form.
Water can be the shimmer,
Reflecting off the light of the pond,
Making the pond seem magnificent.
Water can be the rushing sound,
As it escapes the secretive pond,
And runes down into the vast ocean,
Seeking adventure and unfound dreams.
Water can be the feeling of calmness,
As it sits there, overlooking the pond,
With wonder and seeing how it made it what it is.
Water so supple and wondrous,
The pond is born from the water.
Water so deep and profound,
Just like you,
The pond so incomplete without water,
Just like your family.
poem by Music Galore
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Darkness and Rain
As i stand outside in the darkness and rain i try to keep the memories of us but they seem to fade away when you left no weathers been good all weathers been bad the best weather came when i was with you the best weather i ever had one kiss used to brighten my day 2 to keep the clouds away 3 kisses so i never felt blue but those kisses didnt matter as long as i had you darkness are now my days rain became part of the nights just take me away from all this darkness and bring me back to the light protect me and be my sun and be my shelter and save me from this bad weather.....forever some think im crazy some think im insane because i still wait for you outside in the darkness and rain
poem by Isaiah Ferguson
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The Old pond
the brook stream out to the valley that looks
old and clumsy, where the old pond
rooted the crystallized water mixed with
droplets of rain
sweet melody flows with therapeutic chime
echo the silent moment of day; calling the
little Dragonfly to catch the beautiful flower of
Lilies as the jiggle frog spare high notes for
a choral rendition of song to lie
window looks open wide and see the monsoon
rain wait to play, now the moon wind has
just come as swing the twig of the sun down to
jump into the pool and the beautiful frog enjoy
its stay
fall back the roof that leak, the sun has reach the
meadow and say goodbye, leaving the pond
a sweet memory for everyone, the old that
return the new to become the only one pond
as you water the old shadow of the new glory; the
point has yet to flame the beginning of the new
and wonderful cloth of shinning vessel of
crystallize spirit living in you
witness the frog in the old pond; same melody
sang as the water flows into the stream of unending
face of today..........be on your way
poem by Antonio Liao
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Silent
Silent when I have nothing to say.
Silent just to avoid the fray.
Silent when I am not sure.
Silent—I can't stand anymore.
Silent when you make me mad.
Silent I am when times are sad.
Silent when I am too shy.
Silent when I want to cry.
Silent as I carry life's load.
Silent... I may soon explode.
poem by Shaqueena Celestin
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What Was Once
She would often stare at you
sitting by the pond
the summer sunlight
playing there
on the waters' skin
the holidays
having just begun
and she'd say
you do love me don't you?
and you'd look away
from the sunlight's dance
and reply
of course I do
and you'd see that look
in her eyes
like worlds
being born
and she'd say
Mother wouldn't want
me here alone with you
and you looking back
at the pond's water
would say
why is that?
what have I done
to cause her alarm?
Birds flew across
the pond
their cries breaking
the silence of the summer day
she moved her hand
and touched your hand
resting on the dry earth
because she's jealous of me
being loved I suppose
or maybe she thinks
we do things while alone
you look back at her
the way she sat
the skirt lifted
along her thigh
her hand squeezing yours
that summer
that love
the fresh life
of loving
the being
out of doors.
poem by Terry Collett
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Fetching Water
Come on now; let’s go fetch some water
grab a pail in each hand and let’s go.
Down the hill, to the pond in the holler,
then we’ll climb back up the hill with that water!
Everyone today has forgotten
what it’s like to haul water in a pail.
Every house must have a Jacuzzi,
and a big swimming pool, as well.
Come on now; let’s go fetch some water
grab a pail in each hand and let’s go.
Down the hill, to the pond in the holler,
then we’ll climb back up the hill with that water!
And our homes must have a green lawn
to keep it looking really good!
The water we waste on that green grass
could be used by the farmer to grow food.
Come on now; let’s go fetch some water
grab a pail in each hand and let’s go.
Down the hill, to the pond in the holler,
then we’ll climb back up the hill with that water!
Don’t waste all of that precious water.
We have worked too hard to bring it here.
We can’t live without that precious water
let’s be thankful that it is so near.
Come on now; let’s go fetch some water
grab a pail in each hand and let’s go.
Down the hill, to the pond in the holler,
then we’ll climb back up the hill with that water!
Don’t be taking the water from the farmer
without it his crops will never grow.
All of life depends upon the water
Don’t take it for granted anymore.
Come on now; let’s go fetch some water
grab a pail in each hand and let’s go.
Down the hill, to the pond in the holler,
then we’ll climb back up the hill with that water!
poem by Emma Beverage
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Where I Was Born
Even though the streets are dark
I have no trouble finding my way
and even without the use of eyes
I can see as clear as day.
I’ve been walking these streets
for what seems many years
and there's been few changes,
but nothing is as it appears.
Often people don’t acknowledge me
and treat me as though I’m not here,
and then someone will look surprised,
but why this isn’t clear.
The house on the corner is where I was born,
and there’s my granddad closing the door.
Now that’s unusual I’ve not seen him for years,
I think I was three or four.
He looks exactly the same
and he still has that same suit on.
It still looks as good as the day it was bought
even though all that time has gone.
My mum and dad are coming down the street
with a babies pram and they’re laughing.
I’ll have a look to see who the baby is,
why it’s me and I’m coughing!
poem by Orlando Belo
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Hero Worship
Said he: "You saw the Master clear;
By Rushy Pond alone he sat,
Serene and silent as a seer,
in tweedy coat and seedy hat.
you tell me you did not intrude,
(Although his book was in your hand,)
Upon his melancholy mood . . .
I do not understand.
"You did not tell him: 'I have come
From o'er the sea to speak to you.'
You did not dare, your lips were dumb . . .
You thought a little zephyr blew
From Rushy Pond a touch of him
You'll cherish to your dying day,
Perhaps with tears your eyes were dim . . .
And then - you went away.
"And down the years you will proclaim:
'O call me dullard, dub me dunce!
But let this be my meed of fame:
I looked on Thomas Hardy once.
Aye, by a stile I stood a span
And with these eyes did plainly see
A little, shrinking, shabby man . . .
But Oh a god to me!'"
Said I: "'Tis true, I scarce dared look,
yet he would have been kind, I'm sure;
But though I clutched his precious book
I feared to beg his signature.
Ah yes, my friend, I merit mirth.
You're bold, you have the right to laugh,
And if Christ came again to earth
You'd cadge his autograph."
poem by Robert William Service
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Roundel
Now welcome Summer with thy sunne soft,
That hast this winter`s weathers overshake,
And driven away the longe nighties black.
Saint Valentine, that art full high aloft,
Thus singen smalle fowles for thy sake:
Now welcome Summer with tye sunne soft,
That hast this winter`s weathers overshake.
Well have they cause for to gladden oft,
Wince each of them recovered hath his make.
Full blissful may they singe when they wake:
Now welcome Summer with they sunne soft,
That has this winters weathers overshake,
And driven away the longe nighties black.
poem by Geoffrey Chaucer
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Nag 'em Back
Back from the sinking,
That kept them drinking thinking.
And feeling much defeated.
But now back on their feet!
Beat up on the streets,
With pity pleas that fed them.
Standing and now freed...
And released from pity,
That kept them pleased.
Nag 'em back!
Nag 'em back.
Removed from the traps,
That held them under attack!
They now nag back...
With their dignity intact.
Making strides with clear sharp eyes,
With lives freed of fiction...
And insecure addictions!
They nagged them back,
To get their lives.
Despite the fact,
They were criticized.
They nagged them back...
To get back on track!
And not one who had been undone...
Felt a need to apologize!
Wishing to defeat,
A struggling battle that begun!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Silent Stones Peaceful Pond
the stones are silent
the pond is peaceful
i have nothing to say
i have nothing to look for
there is nothing more
that i shall ever find
nothing that i shall want
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Streets Of Arklow
And as we walked
Through the streets of arklow
Oh the color
Of the day wore on
And our heads
Were filled with poetry
And the morning
A-comin on to dawn
And as we walked
Through the streets of arklow
And gay perfusion
In gods green land
And the gypsys rode
With their hearts on fire
They say we love to wander,
Lord we love,
Lord we love to roam...
And as we walked
Through the streets of arklow
In a drenching beauty
Rolling back til the day
And I saw your eyes
They was shining, sparkling crystal clear
And our souls were clean
And the grass did grow
And our souls were clean
And the grass did grow
And our souls were clean
And the grass did grow
And as we walked
Through the streets of arklow
song performed by by Van Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Back On The Streets
Ive been told in the name of something
Ive got to know what it means to play the game
Too many faces around theyre talking
They play their parts oh, so well but whos to blame
Back on the streets, thats where we are
Building a fortress of power, yeah! were coming
You know better than me the rules are:
Getting better or fat in the mania
Its good to know who is who in our game
The speed is faster, its harder to see where we are
Back on the streets. . .
Please mister know-how just bring me the news
Im waiting so long for you telling me all you can tell
Theres one thing about you, youre dying to prove
The master plan is yours and living with knowledge is hell
Back on the streets. . .
song performed by by Helloween
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Boy Blue
Hey boy blue, cant you hear all the noise, its for you.
All the towns waiting there, let us go.
Theres a show like you aint seen before.
Weclome home, where you been all these years, look around.
All the crowd is in tears,
Its so good to see you in the streets of your town
Chorus
Hey boy blue is back.
Hey boy blue is back.
Hey boy blue is back.
Hey boy blue is back.
Hey boy blue is back.
Hey boy blue is back.
Ive seen bold knights, dropping down like flies,
Ive seen kings, rolling in the mire,
Ive seen god, point the finger of doom to our foes.
I have fought in the holiest wars,
I have smashed, some of the holiest jaws.
Ive been jailed, been impaled, and been dragged through the world.
One thing, I have learned through these years,
Is that no man, should be stricken with fear.
It should be that he walks with no care in the world.
So my friends, who are gathered today,
Hear this clear, for Ill not further say.
That no amn, shall cause me to take up arms again.
Hey boy blue is back.
Hey boy blue is back.
Hey boy blue is back.
Hey boy blue is back.
Hey boy blue is back.
Hey boy blue is back.
song performed by by Electric Light Orchestra
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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