Black Flowing Hair, A Memory Of You
I see you leaning by a wall next door
Against an afternoon sun
And though it is your back that faces me
I know
From the beating of my heart
That it is you, Black-flowing-hair
I can smell you
In mint
And you shall be inside me
As I breathe
So I can live for another time
You are
My tallest tree
On top of the Sleeping-dragon-mountain
And I look up to you
Like my full moon one cold night
Untouched by my fingers
Black-flowing-hair
The world may not have found love in my eyes
As I have none to boost
Since I have given it to you
All of it
I shall find it
But shall not take it back
From you
Your shadow is my god
And it is only that I can touch
Without you knowing
The shadow
Of your
Back
My self-made god
Is enough life
I do not ask much
I cannot
You do not know me
There is no need
I only give myself
I do not have to take any
In return
Now I declare
I have found my place
In you
I have found myself
In you
I have found you
I am Mute-white-dove -sitting
On the breast of Black-flowing-hair
Touching the clouds
Holding the rainbow
Saving all the raindrops of my life.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Two Old Friends
Preacher went up to the Golden Gate,
And met God there,
With the glow of love in his flowing hair.
I'm dreamin' of a time when love and music,
Is everywhere.
Can you see that time comin'?
No my son that time has gone,
There's things to do.
The world has changed since I first met you.
Back when The Band played Rock of Ages,
In their prime,
And the old juke joint was rockin'...
Oh Lord there's so much hate,
In a world where we're from another place.
Show me how to be like you.
See no evil, hear no evil,
Feel no evil in my heart.
In my heart, in my aching heart.
In my heart, in my heart,
In my old black heart.
In my heart, in my heart,
In my beating heart.
Sky had turned a lotta shades of gray,
As they walked on,
And a gentle rain fell down on them.
They found faith in the way things are and,
The way things change,
And they said goodbye like two old friends.
Take me up to the mountains high,
Or a building top where the spirits fly.
Show me how to be like you.
See no evil, feel no evil,
Fear no evil in my heart.
In my heart, in my aching heart.
In my heart, in my heart,
In my old black heart.
In my heart, in my heart,
In my beating heart.
Oh Lord there's so much hate,
In a world where we're from another place.
Show me how to live like you.
See no evil, hear no evil,
Feel no evil in my heart.
In my heart, in my aching heart.
In my heart, in my heart,
In my old black heart.
In my heart, in my heart,
In my beating heart.
song performed by by Neil Young
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My hands holding some shadows
On white laces and flowing
Whiteness of dress
You walk towards a breezy
Shore on some dreams
Your black long hair flowing
Blown against your direction
Your soft hands touch your face
In disbelief
Why this sadness must come and
Happen and linger
In your almond eyes
Sadness like the night
Hovers you except for a surprise
You hum our song
From your heart
And though faraway I will always
Be there
My hands holding some shadows
To comfort you
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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65
My hands holding some shadows
On white laces and flowing
Whiteness of dress
You walk towards a breezy
Shore on some dreams
Your black long hair flowing
Blown against your direction
Your soft hands touch your face
In disbelief
Why this sadness must come and
Happen and linger
In your almond eyes
Sadness like the night
Hovers you except for a surprise
You hum our song
From your heart
And though faraway I will always
Be there
My hands holding some shadows
To comfort you
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My Mothers Hair
One of your hairs fell out last night:
A piece of your life was gone without a sound.
I know a difficult day is coming,
My heart, pierced, utters a quiet cry.
Let my childhood smile again in the sun
And turn me into an innocent little head louse
So I can crawl through the jungle of your hair
And sing a song of darkness in its fragrance.
Under your fingernail-roof Ill sleep in my house;
In my black dream Ill water your black trees.
Ill pick black fruits, and hair-jungle bees
Will bring me black poems to be opened.
How will I live, without your hair?
How will I breathe, without its fragrance?
How will I survive, when I am discovered
By ghosts of wooden combs combing your hair?
Let me wear shows made of dawn-flowers
And crawl without a sound into your sleep.
Ill take the place of the hair that's gone
And sing of hair-clouds flying from night to day.
poem by Ovwigho Joseph Ovedje
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Horse Head Fiddle
i look for him in everywhere
in everywhere i found him not
exhausted i sleep in steppe
in the dream my gray horse spoke to me
find me neath the killing cliff
find me neath the killing cliff
hang my skull on the old larch tree
carve from its wood a two string fiddle
cover over with the skin of my face
string my hair down the neck in place
weave together anger and grief
bow down bow down and sing
i will return through you
strong and gray on mountain high
his black and white faces go running by
strong and gray on mountain high
he come with herd black faces wild
song performed by by 16 Horsepower
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Decent Man
a decent man comes out
from a room: black shiny coat
red tie, a diamond pin, a white polo shirt
a well cut hair a la james bond
eyes covered with a reading glass
you get the impression that he is well-read
and trained to the gentleness of a well-bred
progeny, he is cool and calm and
always gives you the sense of
a deep listener
his wisdom flows from his
attentive eyes
keen and ponderous
you think he has no capacity for
sin or mischief
you feel that he is elevated from
the rest of us
but that is not exactly true.
one night, a cold air blows from
the sea and feels his room with
quivers. He has entertained thoughts
about the woman in Bahamas.
Or the girl from Ipanema.
He rings the phone asking for
the name of a woman. Cathy.
He needs a night. He is hot
as a cinder, as an iron rod
red as flame.
and then the woman comes
barely dressed and well scented
luscious lips and abundant bosom.
soft hair and sleepy eyes.
he opens the door and she closes it.
he asks her to undress and dance
before him. and they made love
in front of the mirror by the wall.
the man has assumed the shadow
of a mad dog as he makes
the push and pull until he is
through. At that moment the decent
man has become a mad dog just like
any mad dog with saliva flowing
along the streets of the slums.
for in truth, a decent man is as decent
only as he is dressed under the sun.
As soon as he gets naked inside his room,
this decent man faces the truth of his being.
in the secret of a moonlit night,
the shadow of the decent man
is just this dog, and nothing more.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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We Dream In Color
Dream sequence
(wake up, wake up, wake up, time to dream)
(wake up, time to dream)
We dream, we dream, we dream in color
Wake me up in the middle of the night, tell me what youve seen
Ivory clouds in a sea of blue, fields of endless green
But we lie here and we search for stars
Or big bad letters all the way from mars
The sky is black and the moon is pale, and we cry for this world of ours
In the dark we still believe (oh you know that we still believe)
In the dark we see
Chorus:
We dream in color - but we live in black and white
We dream in color - like a rainbow in the night
We dream of peace, we dream of love, but still the dream is not enough
We dream in color
Oh yes we dream
I wake up in the middle of the day, locked within this cell
The sun is weak on the gun gray street, a cold and concrete hell
So I close my eyes and remember the days
Of a blood red sky and a purple haze
The flag was yours and the flag was mine, but we let it fade away
In the dark we still believe (oh you know that we still believe)
In the dark we see
We dream in color - but we live in black and white
We dream in color - like a rainbow in the night
We dream of peace, we dream of love, but still the dream is not enough
We dream in color
(guitar solo)
This is where it all comes down, this is where the truth is found
Someones gotta keep this dream alive
We dream in color - but we live in black and white
We dream in color - like a rainbow in the night
We dream of peace, we dream of love, we dream of life!
We dream in color
We dream in color - we dream, yes we dream
We dream in color - but we live in black and white
We dream in color - and hold on to each other
We dream in color - lover to lover, sister to brother, we hold on
We dream in color
We dream in color - we dream
We dream in color - we dream...
song performed by by Starship
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Fade To Black
I wonder where you are tonight
Youre probably on the rampage somewhere
You have been known to take delight
In gettin in somebodys hair
And you always had the knack
Fade to black
I bet you already made a pass
I see a darkened room somewhere
You run your finger round the rim of his glass
You run your fingers through air hair
They scratch across his back
Fade to black
Well maybe its all for the best
But I wish Id never been lassooed
Maybe its some kind of test
But I wish Id never been tattooed
Or been to hell and back
Fade to black
song performed by by Dire Straits
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Hotel
Red dress
Spotlight
Hair black
Skin white
Cold keys
Touch light
Red hair
Fire light
Black tie
Shirt white
New news
Uptight
Red chair
Hot light
Bookshelf
Upright
Window
Shut tight
Red door
Cool night
Rainbow
Streetlight
Gold dust
Too bright
poem by Dean Meredith
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Black raven, White dove
When it's black,
Like the raven,
The well is full, but full of what?
My sun is shining in a half pale burst,
With toxic, red hot guilt
And as if in stark contrast,
The white dove just hits home-
And its what I've always wanted alive,
But then when I give some brainpower,
I decide that maybe it could be dead-
And it took the black to show it.
But then the black of the raven,
So beautifully stunning,
I look at her and all I see,
Is the storm in her eyes,
And the dove
Should be crying
For it doesn't know
That my white heart is dying
Replaced by the black of the right
"Home is where the heart is"
Then my home's firmly with the white,
It's where I've lived,
For six months past,
And I feel like I belong
I feel like I am home there
But then I see,
Cupid's stupid decree-
With one black wing and one white,
But which is wrong?
Which right?
But is the dove ever going to surrender?
Wave its' flag and give in to the raven?
Cause the raven's a-pecking,
And so far she's winning,
And with a fight,
And a laboratory,
The boy of white has slim chance of winning.
Cause now that it's out,
I'm secretly devout,
So secretly, darkly obsessed,
With the black of the girl,
And the light blue of the raven's eye,
But then its' always been white,
The dove the keeper of my heart,
Cause I found the dove lost,
With clips in his wings,
And I tried to set him free
I showed all that he belonged to me
And he's the one who set me free,
My first and ever pet,
The first one I've wanted to be with-
Forever.
And the dove's innocent eyes,
And repeated cries,
Made me overlook the fact he can't fly,
But I'm not going to feed him,
All of his food,
He needs to live on his own too so he won't die
But could the raven ever be-
Just with me?
Even if the raven is more beautiful,
How does she know,
And how do I?
That she won't kill me,
That we won't die.
So used to the dove,
The raven's so new,
And there's so much evidence of some grey hue-
An ever-waging war,
Of black and white,
An ever-waging war,
Of wrong and right,
The dove or the raven,
Only you can decide,
The dove or the raven,
The tone that is inside.
poem by Ally Gunther
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For Emma
If it were not for God
You could have found yourself at
The center of the
Altar of my being
You are my sun
When my moon left me
Extreme darkness
You are the river
Flowing to my life
Your soft sound
Of the flowing waters
Made me raise
All my goldfishes
In my own little garden
You are the center flower
And all the morning sunshine
That I can take shall all be yours
All my days shall talk about you
And I shall write
About all
About you
My last love
My lust
My moaning nights
A warm sweet scented blanket
You are my everyday longing
My quiver
My soundest sleep
Of such soft pillow
Inside a night of
Loving dreams
I am insatiable
Your white body on those black nights
Sparked a meteor
Into my vast universe
Your love
Moans
And I shall be
The wildest hunter for saber-tigers
In the safari
It is you,
After all these years
The queen
Who gave an extension
To my ending life
Another day
For better health
As you shall grow in my heart
You shall be forever
Unfathomable,
Ungrasped,
Untitled
You are my force-softness
Combined
My singing silence
My beating drum
My chant
Forever tireless
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Ohh Annie...
Last night I had a dream
I was looking for my dog
Where is my beautiful yorkshire?
Tired and out of breath
Keep on walking and looking
In the nearby pond
I found a lot of dogs
Big dogs small dogs
All dead floating
I finally found Sinta
Down below by my feet
Almost invisible in the dirty pond
I picked her up very carefully
She was all brown like caramel
I was going to give up and cry
But instead I pumped her small chest
Really carefully not to hurt her
Then she coughed up water
After three or four times
Her color changed back
Black and gold
Her hair started to shine
And when I slightly caressed her hair
Mustard starts appearing
Underneath her wet hair
She was all covered with mustard!
I woke up
I was thinking “what a dream”
Then I looked for Sinta
She was lying down by my feet
Sleeping... Snoring...
And then I slightly caressed her hair
At Five o'clock
Still tired from walking all night I got up
Brushed my teeth and made some coffee
I checked my phone messages
This is bad news
My sister passed away
poem by Kay Barcelon
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The Witches' Glen - An Auld Tale
Gather aroon the ingle nuek
For ae eerie tale I'll tell -
'Boot a glen whar a witchy spook
Cast folk in her terrible spell.
Her hair sae black, her eyes sae green
Black Meg she was the devil's queen.
Warlocks an witches dance at night
When the full-moon turns its ken!
Thunder rides on a bolt of light
The deil's in the witches' glen!
Her hair sae black, her eyes sae green
Black Meg she was the devil's queen.
Auld trees hang o'er the twisted wynd
An' blot oot the licht o' day;
An there, there's staring eyes tae find
A stranger wha's lost their way.
Her hair sae black, her eyes sae green
Black Meg she was the devil's queen.
Frae Grennan wood she hailed an flew
A flash thru the black night wind
Come witchin hour everyin knew
She'd get a' the folks wha sinned.
Her hair sae black, her eyes sae green
Black Meg she was the devil's queen.
They burned her on Kirkmaiden hill
An' they bound her on a stake:
She chanted spells that made 'em ill
An' they pray'd for Jesus' sake.
Her hair sae black, her eyes sae green
Black Meg she was the devil's queen.
When ere ye walk the witches' glen,
Whar branches stretch oot like hands
Tak' Bible, cross an' say, Amen!
An' heed the guid Lord's commands.
Her hair sae black, her eyes sae green
Black Meg she's still there tae be seen.
poem by Patrick Scott Hogg
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Different World
You cant stop a man from learning
I could write the book of love
Captured moments there
Between me and you
Then I had the thought of leavin
It was a voice inside my head
Telling me I got to have the strength
To see it through
And I know its
Gonna break your heart
And I know its
Gonna break your heart
Im living in a different world
And as I slip away
I see you fade to black and white
Im living in a different world
With all my hopes and dreams
I drift off in the night
Im alone but Im not lonely
I found something that I never had
Laying back in the easy chair
Is not the life for me
You think Im your one and only
But you gamble with a restless man
In the end Ive found the way
That we can both be free
Im living in a different world
And as I slip away
I see you fade to black and white
Im living in a different world
With all my hopes and dreams
I disappear into the night
Im living in a different world
And as I slip away
I see you fade to black and white
Im living in a different world
With all my hopes and dreams
Im living in a different world
And as I slip away
Im living in a different world
With all my hopes and dreams
I disappear into the night
song performed by by Uriah Heep
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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~Reconciliation~
A black woman migrates to Europe
War devastated Germany in she finds a tolerant white widower to cope
Years some later a mulatto is born with arrear
Unluckily the newborn not so towards white but usual spirally knotted hair
She grows up and gets because of her white father´s repute a government job
Ego came out spontaneous in black aggression as corn on the cob
Her work by job agency comes mostly foreigners for demonstrations
Majority a jobless black immigrant who has not the lucky touch of Midas parentage in confrontations
She looks of blacks down and she herself is black
When asked to justify says she is more white hidden traits back
She repeats her satisfaction from day to day
Until she went to a white german barber for hair trim and foam some day
Your hair is another says the white old barber woman
I have no experience and i cut not those hairs as talisman
Go to a black barber she added
They understand more your hair as they the same headed
Dreaming Of Hair
Ivy ties the cellar door
in autumn, in summer morning glory
wraps the ribs of a mouse.
Love binds me to the one
whose hair I've found in my mouth,
whose sleeping head I kiss,
wondering is it death?
beauty? this dark
star spreading in every direction from the crown of her head.
My love's hair is autumn hair, there
the sun ripens.
My fingers harvest the dark
vegtable of her body.
In the morning I remove it
from my tongue and
sleep again.
Hair spills
through my dream, sprouts
from my stomach, thickens my heart,
and tangles from the brain. Hair ties the tongue dumb.
Hair ascends the tree
of my childhood--the willow
I climbed
one bare foot and hand at a time,
feeling the knuckles of the gnarled tree, hearing
my father plead from his window, _Don't fall!_
In my dream I fly
past summers and moths,
to the thistle
caught in my mother's hair, the purple one
I touched and bled for,
to myself at three, sleeping
beside her, waking with her hair in my mouth.
Along a slippery twine of her black hair
my mother ties ko-tze knots for me:
fish and lion heads, chrysanthemum buds, the heads
of Chinamen, black-haired and frowning.
Li-En, my brother, frowns when he sleeps.
I push back his hair, stroke his brow.
His hairline is our father's, three peaks pointing down.
What sprouts from the body
and touches the body?
What filters sunlight
and drinks moonlight?
Where have I misplaced my heart?
What stops wheels and great machines?
What tangles in the bough
and snaps the loom?
Out of the grave
my father's hair
bursts. A strand
pierces my left sole, shoots
up bone, past ribs,
to the broken heart it stiches,
then down,
swirling in the stomach, in the groin, and down,
through the right foot.
What binds me to this earth?
What remembers the dead
and grows towards them?
I'm tired of thinking.
I long to taste the world with a kiss.
I long to fly into hair with kisses and weeping,
remembering an afternoon
when, kissing my sleeping father, I saw for the first time
behind the thick swirl of his black hair,
the mole of wisdom,
a lone planet spinning slowly.
Sometimes my love is melancholy
and I hold her head in my hands.
Sometimes I recall our hair grows after death.
Then, I must grab handfuls
of her hair, and, I tell you, there
are apples, walnuts, ships sailing, ships docking, and men
taking off their boots, their hearts breaking,
not knowing
which they love more, the water, or
their women's hair, sprouting from the head, rushing toward the feet.
poem by Li-Young Lee
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Emptiness Is Both An Illusion And An Irony
emptiness is always an illusion
which carries with it an irony.
when i look at it, as its content shows,
it has nothing
bare hands, opening fingers,
an empty transparent ball, it can
tell your future, it can dig your
past,
thinking that it is spacious, i went
inside it, pierce myself though it
only to find that that are so many
crowding elements in there and they
are choking me and you who is looking
outside it, thinks that nothing is happening
but then the struggle is horrible, quick
and even deadly, so many hang themselves in
empty air, and lose their lives, because
you cannot see the body of breathing,
when you learn to live with it however,
you become full, emptiness is its irony,
its antithesis, for how can you ever be full
if you have never known how to empty yourself?
the face of emptiness is a mist, and you touch
it, you will hold a forest, so many black birds,
myriad exotic orchids, so many blending sounds of
trees screaming, of creeks flowing of waterfalls
cascading that you can relate to the locks of
your hair and the hairs of your armpits,
inside it is too personal to be told, outside it
are so many denials with the faces of the people
that you have loved before, and then you decide
to stay at a distance, you are like a tree
dark as a shadow, counting the hours
when the sun finally fades away.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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An Open Boat
O, what is that whimpering there in the darkness?
'Let him lie in my arms. He is breathing, I know.
Look. I'll wrap all my hair round his neck' - 'The sea's rising,
The boat must be lightened. He's dead. He must go.'
See - quick - by that flash, where the bitter foam tosses,
The cloud of white faces, in the black open boat,
And the wild pleading woman that clasps her dead lover
And wraps her loose hair round his breast and his throat.
'Come, lady, he's dead.' - 'No, I feel his heart beating,
He's living, I know. But he's numbed with the cold.
See, I'm wrapping my hair all around him to warm him.' -
- 'No. We can't keep the dead, dear. Come, loosen your hold.
'Come. Loosen your fingers.' - ' O God, let me keep him!' -
O, hide it, black night! Let the winds have their way!
And there are no voices or ghosts from that darkness,
To fret the bare seas at the breaking of day.
poem by Alfred Noyes
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I Won't Go Back
Will you come in the promise night
Or have you forgotten me in your mind
The waiting is felt so long
My soul’s flakening
Until the fact spread opened
That you can’t put a lie anymore
And the world seems to disappear
My heart’s darkening
I would not go back
Won’t weave this hope inside my heart
Because I have clearly found
The lone road of my life
Without you
I would not cry again
Even night is unbearable cold
Because I have realized
The end right in my eyes
All with your love
If I could throw the love I have
Blame everything to your fault
And I will come as a winner
But I don’t feel ease
If I could grow vines of hatred
Cover all of reminiscent
Beautiful but trap me in vain
And I can not stand
I would not go back
Won’t weave this hope inside my heart
Because I have clearly found
My own way of my life
Without you
I would never regret
Though I want reply so many times
Because all those memories
Are just a memory
That will be passing by
Will you come in the promise night
Or have you forgotten me in your mind
Now you only like a shadow
And the morning comes
poem by Maria Sudibyo
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Back In Time
Last night; I went back in time
To see my wife if we never had met
I saw my ways, and my upcoming days
And my soul, was full of regret.
She wasn't there, but was in my prayer
As I surveyed the new life that I lived
And I walked alone, in my empty home
As my love for her I couldn't give.
I looked for her, and she couldn't be found
Last night when I went back in time,
So I searched her world, left nothing unfurled
But for her, nothing about her could I find.
So without me she took another path
Because then we had never met
But I stayed on that road, until I died old
Because no other woman in my heart would I let.
Then I had my thought when I awoke from my dream
And my woman she couldn't be found
So I closed my eyes and I sat down to cry
As my world was flipped upside down.
I remember now that she had left me
To be in the arms of another man
She was my love my life, my woman my wife
Now she's holding another mans heart and hand.
Why she left me; GOD will only know
But the love I felt once will never be mine,
I did nothing wrong, just loved her to strong,
Now again I wish, to go back in time.
Randy L. McClave
poem by Randy McClave
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