Catching Breaths Like Words
the difference between
you and me
is not the sameness of
our miseries
the difference is that you
are an open window
that has closed again
but i am a window that i
broke and never close
because there is no more reason
to keep me closed i am
sinfully opening to the
changes of the clouds &
the course-less drifting of the wind
i do not pay attention
to direction now
except perhaps on the basics
of having to feed my day to
day existence
when you arrive here
i am no longer myself
and then you leave
saying i am the useless wind
of the house and i deserve
no room at all
early in the morning
before i become myself again
words rain in my eyes
like tears
salt to my tongue and
biting
i want to put them in a
bowl
treat them like salad
days
but i do not eat words
neither do you
so i let them pour
on the vacancies of the
floor and they drip on
the earth and
gone & i said i have no
time for thoughts
thoughts do not help me
find my arms
i rush to go and be myself
again
on the wings that you
detest
above everything else
i resume
catching breaths
like words
feeding myself like
paper
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Box Of Rain
Look out of any window, any morning, any evening, any day.
Maybe the sun is shining, birds are singing,
No rain is falling from a heavy sky.
What do you want me to do, to do for you to see you through?
For this is all a dream we dreamed one afternoon, long ago.
Walk out of any doorway, feel your way, feel your way like the day before.
Maybe youll find direction,
Around some corner where its been waiting to meet you.
What do you want me to do, to watch for you while you are sleeping?
The please dont be surprised when you find me dreaming too.
Look into any eyes you find by you, you can see clear to another day,
Maybe been seen before, through other eyes on other days while going home.
What do you want me to do, to do for you to see you through?
Its all a dream we dreamed one afternoon, long ago.
Walk into splintered sunlight,
Inch your way through dead dreams to another land.
Maybe youre tired and broken,
Your tongue is twisted with words half spoken and thoughts unclear
What do you want me to do, to do for you to see you through?
A box of rain will ease the pain, and love will see you through.
Just a box of rain, wind and water,
Sun and shower, wind and rain,
In and out the window like a moth before a flame.
And its just a box of rain, I dont know who put it there,
Believe it if you need it, or leave it if you dare.
And its just a box of rain, or a ribbon for your hair;
Such a long long time to be gone, and a short time to be there.
song performed by by Grateful Dead
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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No Difference
i stared out the window
at the bare frozen limbs
of my favorite old tree...
i closed my eyes...
saw leaves bud forth
and turn green...
i opened my eyes...
knowing there was no difference.
i stared at the young girl
reading at a corner table
i closed my eyes...
and saw an old grandmother
washing dishes with her grandbabies
playing in the floor at her feet...
i opened my eyes...
knowing there was no difference.
i saw the young man
carrying his son on his shoulders
i closed my eyes...
and saw an old man standing
by his son's casket
draped by a flag...
i opened my eyes...
knowing there was no difference.
i saw an old man
standing on the corner begging
i closed my eyes...
i saw a young boy
playing ball in the street
laughing and dodging cars
i opened my eyes...
knowing there was no difference.
i saw a crack head shivering
by an electric heater in a bare apartment
i closed my eyes...
and saw a young a/g student
helping some kid with his math
i opened my eyes...
knowing there was no difference.
i saw a desperate girl
walking the streets
looking for a john
i closed my eyes...
and saw a young girl's room
stuffed animals on the bed
pictures of her and her daddy on the wall
i opened my eyes...
knowing there was no difference.
i saw a young man
wild-eyed with fear
in a prison cell
i closed my eyes...
i saw a young boy gone hunting
with his grandpa on thanksgiving morn
with his dog by his side
i opened my eyes...
knowing there was no difference.
i pulled back the veil of time...
knowing, there is no difference!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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an Ode to Loneliness....
Loneliness need not be feared.
IT is one of the most common guests in your house.
If you fear it, it will tease you and prolong your
agony.
If you, however, meet it at the gate, and welcome it to your house,
give it some drinks, feed it well, and offer it your room, ask it to sleep with you
for ten days,
Then it will look at you from the tip of your hair to the tip of your toe and say, ' This man knows me, and has a deep thinking, he knows how to nurture me,
and take good care of a bleeding heart'
And then it will have second thoughts in deciding to stay in your house
and sleep with you in bed
It has lost its use and finally arrive at the conclusion ' You are a strong man,
you know how to live. You talk to God, and compassionate about
the pain of silence'
And then without saying goodbye
sans the note or words of departure, it leaves you and your house
looking for those who are still living on their closed houses,
on shallow waters
For indeed, Loneliness also chooses those who deserve it
Now you smile, you close the door because it is already dark,
close the windows because there is no moon,
and somehow you think about it,
honestly, you miss
what you have become so familiar about
it has become dear to you
and clearer now
it has become a part of you
like a key inside your
pocket.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Drip, drip, drip
tears roll down my face
drip, drip, drip
that's all I hear as the tears fall
in the dark
I sit alone as blood runs down my arm
and mixes with my tears
drip, drip, drip
my door is locked
my knife is a deadly scarlet
getting closer every time
to the veins I desirer
drip, drip, drip
I push the blade deeper into my arm
it hurts but it's a good pain
a knock at the door
I grab my friend and scream
as I find the veins I want
drip, drip, drip
my mom walks in as I fall to the floor
my dying words to my mom
'I live no more'
she rushed to my body and calls for my dad
I smile as they see my pain
drip, drip, drip
as my blood hits the floor
my mom screams my name
I smile once more
and say good bye
my mom screams ' why god why? '
the last words I heard were a plea for help
until the final
drip, drip, drip
poem by No Reason To Care
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Lyric From The Heart! ! !
a lad in the falling rain
with his mighty umbrella
moves through the flooded road
he feels the water cold
through the way,
in the rain,
by blowing wind
a 'DUPATTA' touched his face
with the wet touch the cloth
she moves with the drip-drip music of the rain
she turns to him,
her smile touches his heart
soon the wind blowed the rain
even in that wet look
she is just like an angel
an angel from heaven in the rain
like the wind moved the rain
she moved him
her eyes carried him
through the unknown way
something he had to say
he dont know, how to say
some words raised in his mind
he singed the unknown words
in the drip-drip music of rain
she heard his
she looked him with a smile
the rain went off
calm & cold wind blowed
Ecstasy of the evening
with a rejuvenated feel
he walked back
with the drip-drip music of rain
and with the lyrics from his heart! !
Is There A Difference?
Is there a difference between yes and no
Is there a difference between up and down
Must I fear what others fear
What nonsense
Some people are content
Enjoying things that belong to tradition
With the seasons they cast their lot
Without a question
Other men are clear and bright and solid
Other men are sharp and clever and jolly
And we go wo oh oh wo oh oh oh wo
Is there a difference between high and low
Is there a difference between then and now
Do we have to live in pain and fear
What nonsense
People are drifting like the waves on the sea
Without direction like the restless wind
Not knowing forward not knowing back
Just existing
Other men are strong and full of courage
Other men are witty and full of knowledge
And we go wo oh oh wo oh oh wo
Other men are clear and bright and solid
I alone am drifting on the sea
Other men are sharp and clever and jolly
Restless like the wind
And we go wo oh oh wo oh oh wo
Is there a difference
Is there really a difference
Yes and no
Is there a difference
Up and down
Is there a difference
High and low
Is there a difference
Then and now
Is there a difference
Yes and no
Is there a difference
Up and down
Is there a difference
song performed by by Howard Jones
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My Opening Farewell
A lady stands before an open window
Staring so far away
She can almost feel the southern wind blow
Almost touching her restless day
She turns from her window to me
Sad smile her apology
Sad eyes reaching to the door
Daylight loses to another evening
And still she spares me the word goodbye
And sits alone beside me fighting her feelings
Struggles to speak but in the end can only cry
Suddenly its so hard to find
The sound of the words to speak her troubled mind
So Im offering these to her as if to be kind:
Theres a train everyday leaving either way
Theres a world, you know
Theres a way to go
And youll soon be gone -- thats just as well
This is my opening farewell
A childs drawings left there on the table
And a womans silk lying on the floor
And I would keep them here if I were able
Lock her safe behind this open door
But suddenly its so clear to me
That Id asked her to see what she may never see
And now my kind words find their way back to me
Theres a train everyday leaving either way
Theres a world, you know
You got a ways to go
And Ill soon believe -- its just as well
This is my opening farewell
song performed by by Jackson Browne
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Rain, Rain,
Rain Rain,
above from the sky,
To some you are
drops of love
or dropp of joy
like a perfect boy
You’re a sprinkle of blessing
like salad dressing.
Rain Rain,
Drip, drop, drip, drop,
On the window panes,
Thunder and lightning fills up the sky,
Creating a rock music concert
right outside your locked door,
But be careful,
It might make your head a bit sore.
Rain Rain,
with sun wind, and clouds,
and the seven beautiful colours.
Rain Rain,
It’s a sensation to dry droughts,
and takes out all our doubts,
So let the rain out!
poem by Mikaiila .S.
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Of Three Or Four In The Room
Out of three or four in the room
One is always standing at the window.
Forced to see the injustice amongst the thorns,
The fires on the hills.
And people who left whole
Are brought home in the evening, like small change.
Out of three or four in the room
One is always standing at the window.
Hair dark above his thoughts.
Behind him, the words, wandering, without luggage,
Hearts without provision, prophecies without water
Big stones put there
Standing, closed like letters
With no addresses; and no one to receive them.
poem by Yehuda Amichai
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Your Thoughts
your thoughts
are keys
to the locks of my
doors that i closed
a long time
ago
you open them
one by one
and give life at once
to the dusty floors
your thoughts
make mine open to the wind
to the sun
i could have been
a broken house until your
thoughts
came like hammers
and saws
now i have a garden of flowers too
roses bloom
because of you
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Early morning rain
Early morning rain
~
Rain taps upon the window
while the faint light of morning
lines the gap between curtains
a halo of pale blue illuminates
the darkness of the room
a cold beyond the duvet
invites a reason not to move
while tired eyes open and close
motionless I lay here listening
to the sound of the rain
like restless fingers drumming
upon the windowpane
in the early hours of morning
I lay awake
poem by Matthew Holloway
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Words (A True Poet)
We speak words of wisdom
when the heart is full of sadness
sometimes thoughts of happiness
when we bless the morning sun
other times just for fun
that's where a true poet comes from
We speak these words of poetry
in a timeless past
a masterpiece so vast
where motions and emotions
rush by so fast
We are all, but only one
on a empty highway lane
frost like snowflakes
on a window payne
we hold not the anger
from within
but express our lonliness
with paper and pen
Though our days are not forever
our words will always last
in this world of reality
like hours that never pass
in pastures of green grass
we're pieces of shattered glass
(spiritwind-1997)
poem by Spiritwind Wood
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Paper Rain
From miles above
poured the paper rain
Flooding the streets
whiteing out the clear September day
peoples thoughts floated from the hell fire
like paper rain
First like a mist
then like a monsoon
the paper rain spread across the city
engulfing the running masses below
in a hurricane of paper rain
When the storm stopped
and the clouds of fire ceased
millons of unread words litter the streets
like a sea
of paper rain
Swept into the gutters
went the thoughts of the dead
the paper rain gone
Until the next unpredicted storm arises
and the heavens pour down peoples sorrows
ON PAPER RAIN
GOD BLESS ALL THE VICTIMS AND THERE FAMILYS
OF THE SEPTEMBER 11 TRAGEDY
poem by Vincent Armone
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Dropping By Your House This Morning
i dropped by your house this very early morning
the windows are closed
but the door is half-open
and i could have given in to this little curiosity
that cats keep on their paws
and soft feet
or hands if you may
but i didn't. there is something in the houe
that says
you had a bad day and that night you did not have
a sound sleep
the roses are wilting and a flower pot falls on the ground
broken
the soil splashed like spilled water on the grass
there is no sound of the wind
from the storm last night
i just dropped by. I respect you. The door of the house
finally closed
i did not see the hands that closed it.
it maybe yours
or someone else's
the rug has spoken. You want to be alone.
to keep the faint light left
in that little room. the curtains fall. the lights
went off on that very early morning.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Tempestuous Rain
The water rain come
Increasingly hard
Was accompanied the wind bent
When I opened the window
Trees fall
Flew my own roves
Destroyed all desire
Finally I closed the window
Locked the meeting all the door
Prayed so that the only one house
The Place took shelter of children and my wife
Not flown Together with the wind
poem by Prasetya Utama
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A Certain Preference On Early Mornings...
sometimes forgive me
but i do not like to hear bird chirping by my window
on early mornings for honestly i prefer
the silent sounds of the wind
from the sea,
and so when i hear those chirping birds
perching on the tree
those still feeding their fledgelings
i exercise that right of having to close my
glass windows
preferring once again
the privacy of my room and the exclusion of the
outside world
by the curtains and then i begin to sip my coffee
reading a poem
listening to the words seeping like rain to the
hair of my own soul.....
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Rain Is Like A Man
the rain this early morning
has an accompanying wind
i look at them by the window
my inner world divided by a thick glass
the trees are swaying and some leaves
begin to fall like some kind of a dance
the rain like a man carries the wind
on his arms and the wind leans down
i catch a glimpse of how they passionately kiss
it is sad and lonely and then the rain stops
the morning sun comes and the leaves
are at the feet of the trees kind of wet with tears.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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A Closed Book
A book unopened
leaves words to die.
A book unopened
leaves words to lie
in perpetuity,
never alive, never free
to deliver its thoughts
for any to see.
Who was the writer?
What did he pen?
The absence of readers
are lost and then
the book lies quietly
on a shelf
and maybe all by itself it knows.
It will never be opened.
It will always be closed,
just like some people
who won't open up
and speak their words to you.
Their life is something
you'll never know,
something you won't view.
For they are a closed book too.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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Only In My Mind
thoughts fire
mind blaze
run on wind
words sing mind melodies
words sing song new images
dance in heart veins flow
words shape shift
into new thoughts
concepts poems
several are written
in time heart beats
wonder stirs anew
but only in my mind
where the beauty sings
sung sight meditation
no words given unto paper
no words processed on light screen
no words kept mind record
dart of honeybird flight
bats fly sonar night vision
wing beats of wonder
words released born free
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Forever in My Dreams
Close to the morning hours before I awaken,
I find myself looking outside of the window of my dreams-
Sometimes amidst the bleak darkness, the full moon is rising above the treetops,
Stars are seemingly cascading behind mountains of far away places-
I hear footsteps faintly passing by, perhaps down the hallway of my fantasies-
Slowly my eyes would open and I find myself
Looking outside of the same window and
All I can see are shadows of trees that would be
Touching the sky within a figment of my imagination-
Close to the morning hours, close to the time that the world awakens,
I find myself lost in thought, disappearing into some other realm.
The full moon battles with the rising sun, stars shooting and seemingly cascading,
Saturn, Mars and Venus are dancing in rhythm to
The doleful and mystical song of the locusts screaming-
Inside the fortress of my thoughts,
I have made my home inside this kingdom in the sky-
In this place where the light of the moon is overpowered
By the rays of the early morning sun-
The colors of the sky are reborn- cyanotic blue and
Pearl-white clouds, seemingly tinted with gold,
Amidst the phantasmal waltz of my imagination,
I can hear voices familiar only to myself,
Shouting words that terrify and evoke moments of madness-
It has been said that reason can be affected by the light of the full moon
Before daybreak and I would ride bareback upon the tail of a shooting star
If I only could, as it would take me on a journey across the universe,
Perhaps to a safer place within this magical kingdom in the sky-
Close to the morning hours before I awaken,
I have lost myself inside a magnificent place of my own creation-
A place from which I would never leave if I could only wish upon a star-
This would be my utmost desire- as this lurid but dismal world
Into which I was born has not been kind to me-
As my memory becomes a vehicle traveling backward in time-
I can recall terrifying sights only I could see and threatening voices which
Only I could hear- within that moment that darkness transforms to dawn,
I find my spirit having been rudely snatched away from this place of my fondest reverie-
So I close my eyes and then I can see the stars once more, the moon and Saturn dancing-
And I begin to lose myself once again traveling across this pathway of my dreams-
Tears are falling from my eyes as they open because this vision can never become reality-
Tears would glisten with dewdrops upon the leaves upon the trees reflecting the
Early morning sunlight as I close my eyes once again and wish upon that star
As I would for always and forever in every passing thought…
poem by Claudia Krizay
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