En.Citatepedia^®.ro

Cebu City, Sto Rosario Church

i know it is her, and she will not believe me.
i know that shape. Bent. I know that hair. Scattered.
yes blonde. and curly. her fingers are stroking each lock
at the middle of this mass.
she is listening carefully to the priest
making the sermon.
she is busy reciting the prayers
through her rosary beads.
she is fat and looking misshapen by the weight
of her sorrows.

we know what is inside her. we say we pity her.
now is her time to escape again.but soon she will be back
and she can't take what she sees.

some xanor tablets, from her psychiatrist.
she will swallow some more emptiness.
she will take in more heaviness of her own lightness.

will she recover? we look at her, we are never wrong.
and then we pray.

there are humps of flesh on her shoulders.
steroids. and side effects.

we take the communion.
she kneels down.

we had that one before. now she will take some more.
fair enough.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Marian Holy Rosary

A crown of roses for her head;
A rose-garland for heaven’s queen;
A heap of rose-petals for feet,
That’s what the Rosary’s about.

The queen of beauteous flowers –Rose,
Whose perfume tickles any nose!
What hues and sizes grow on earth!
Give them to Mary, full of mirth.

St. Dominic was first to get,
The rosary when he had met
Our Lady of the Rosary,
Lord Jesus Christ’s Mother Mary!

The string of beads stands for prayers –
A magic blend for all sayers;
Just pray with meaning, mind steadfast,
To get the mother’s blessings vast!

A lovely weapon against foes;
A contemplation ’midst our woes;
Reciting it, we earn graces,
And win life’s spiritual races.

Copyright by Dr John Celes 3-30-2009

poem by John Celes
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Put The Weight On My Shoulders

Put the weight on my shoulders
Take the load off of your mind
Cause the headwinds that blow
Will fade away in time
Rest yourself on my waters
Take the lifeline from me
Rise above what has passed
And let yourself be free
I only know what love must bear
Through laiden times I will be there
And when your down Ill break the fall
Loose the weight on my shoulders
It aint no weight at all
I only know what love must do
When fortune cries Ill follow you
And when your down Ill break your fall
Put the weight on my shoulders
It aint no weight at all
Put the weight on my shoulders
See you star how it shines
Cause theyre so many dreams
Left to find
Put the weight on my shoulders .....
Put the weight on my shoulders .....
Put the weight on my shoulders .....
Put the weight on my shoulders .....
Put the weight on my shoulders .....

song performed by by Gino Vanelli
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sunday 4: 44 A.m.

the church bell sounds.
you wake up.
you wash your face.
comb your hair and
wear the best dress
on sunday.
you look again
in the mirror to check
if all about you is well
and presentable.
you take the rosary
and the prayer book.
you read the gospel.
you mumble your prayers,
you thank your husband.
you take the puppy.
you smile again in the
mirror. you thank God.
now you open the gate
and head for the nearby
church and hear mass
and the usual sermon
of the parish priest.

90% of your life
is devoted to religion.
10% is devoted
to anything else.
you have aged.
you still mumble.

i still wonder whether
it is you who misunderstands me
or i misunderstanding you.
everything seems to be
mangled and mingled.
when you come back
breakfast is ready and
everyone in the house
pretends that there is nothing
wrong with the table, or the
cover, or the broken pieces
of the glass.The maid is
quick in sweeping them
away from the door into
that thick grass beside
the window of this house.

sunday morning is still
our morning. A nice one.
the sun has come and
we are planning for another
picnic in the nearby beach.
there will be no questions.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Whenever I Pray the Holy Rosary:

Whenev’r I pray the Holy Rosary:
My woes all vanish into air;
My foes disappear and don’t dare.

Whenev’r I pray the Holy Rosary:
Miracles happen more with ease;
God answers my prayers and pleas.

Whenev’r I pray the Holy Rosary:
My world becomes rosy again;
My life becomes a boon, not bane.

Whenev’r I pray the Holy Rosary:
God helps me well in life to cope;
God consoles me and gives new hope.

Whenev’r I pray the Holy Rosary:
My sinful habits vanish fast;
My soul gets filled with grace at last.

Whenev’r I pray the Holy Rosary:
My trials vanish, one by one;
My works God-bless’d are fully done.

Copyright by Dr John Celes 5-5-2008

poem by John Celes
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Little Jamie

Ither laddies may ha's finer claes, and may be better fed,
But nane o' them a'has sic a bonnie curly heid,
O sie a blythe blink in their e'e,
As my ain curly fair-hair'd laddie, Little Jamie.

When I gang oot tae tak' a walk wi' him, alang the Magdalen Green,
It mak's my heart feel lichtsome tae see him sae sharp and keen,
And he pu's the wee gowans, and gie's them to me,
My ain curly fair-hair'd laddie, Little Jamie.

When he rises in the mornin' an' gets oot o' bed,
He says, mither, mind ye'll need tae toast my faither's bread.
For he aye gie's me a bawbee;
He's the best little laddie that ever I did see,
My ain curly fair-hair'd laddie, Little Jamie.

When I gang oot tae tak' a walk alang the streets o' Dundee,
And views a' the little laddies that I chance to see,
Nane o' them a' seems sae lovely to me,
As my ain curly fair-hair'd laddie, Little Jamie.

The laddie is handsome and fair to be seen,
He has a bonnie cheerie mou', and taw blue e'en,
And he prattles like an auld grandfaither richt merrily;
He's the funniest little laddie that ever I did see,
My ain curly fair-hair'd Iaddie, Little Jamie.

Whene'er that he kens I am coming hame frae my wark,
He runs oot tae meet me as cheerful as the lark,
And he says, faither, I'm wanting just a'e bawbee,
My ain curly fair-hair'd laddie, Little Jamie.

poem by William Topaz McGonagall
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Lull

time is a lullaby
the being inside a being
is like a baby inside a cradle
of the arms of a mother
inside is inside and further is another further
somehow when farther goes farther
there is more to become
rather than find an exit and then enter
another door and close it and live there
and then bone after bone
you take away what is left of
the self after the flesh is consumed
by another hungry flesh.
there is a lull in boredom
there is a escape that longs for
another greater escape.
i know you're tired listening to this
but does it really matter?

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Under The Cover Of The Night

living so enclosed
like a dead man inside a coffin
there is no choice
but to sleep and inside the dream
pray more,

the man keeps reciting the prayers
on his fingers
to dispel all fears about death

when he wakes up however
everything becomes a different matter

it is not something strange
but it was the most certain thing that happens

death upon death
death of death

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Sometimes When You Look At The Stars

sometimes when you look at the stars
and there are many of them
tonight and you are all
alone by the window
thinking

sometimes you grasp the reason why
you want to forget a face
glowing at the fireside
of your living room

you want to be free from an enclosure
of love
unrequited, you want to escape as a wing of a bird
from the bones of its body
rotten flesh

and so you carefully place your chin
on top of your right hand shaped like a fist
you open your eyes
to this window of the universe and yes there are so many stars
tonight

you think there are still so many of them
and you regret having loved just one

you think you are foolish
and you are so right
you feel you are wasted.
and you are right.

you feel that you cannot recover
and stand tall to look at things carefully again.
this time
i must tell you, you are wrong.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Oklahoma-Texas Line

Got an old dog, it don't like me much
That thing starts to bark his head off every time we touch
Sittin' on the porch listenin' to the radio
We sing every single song we know
Even the ones we don't
When she moves a little closer
She puts her hand in mine
Oh what I wouldn't give to stop the hands of time
She's got long blonde hair and deep blue eyes
I got all I ever need when at girl is by my side
Everything I love is there inside
A little brick house on the Oklahoma-Texas Line
She's got a part time job at the Tastee-freeze
She took the weekend off to spend a little bit of time with me
I got an old car we drove to the edge of town
We stopped by Old Man Millers' farm
Just to watch the world spin around
And she moves a little closer
She puts her lips to mine
Ain't funny how the good Lord out does himself sometimes
She's got long blonde hair and deep blue eyes
I got all I ever need when at girl is by my side
Everything I love is there inside
A little brick house on the Oklahoma-Texas Line
Everything I love is there inside
A little brick house with a black top drive
Big oak tree with our names carved on the side
She's got long blonde hair and deep blue eyes
I got all I ever need when at girl is by my side
Everything I love is there inside
A little brick house, little brick house on the Oklahoma-Texas Line
Oh here they come
Long blonde hair and deep blue eyes
Everything I love...

song performed by by Rascal Flatts
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Love Is A Crime

Oooh Yeah
Chicago
If love is a crime baby
I'd do my time
Whether it's wrong or right
You can sentence me to life
If love is a crime baby
I'd do my time
Whether it's wrong or right
You can sentence me
Sentence me to life
Some might say I'm guilty of loving the first degree
If the jury wants to lock me up and throw away the key
There's no greater punishment than what I face inside
Won't tamper with the evidence cause there's nothing to hide
(He lives inside my heart)
(I'm in the middle too)
I'm in the middle too
(You never had a clue)
Unless you felt it too
(If love is a crime) baby
I'd do my time
(Whether it's wrong or right)
(You can) sentence me
Sentence me to life
(If love is a crime) baby
I'd do my time
(Whether it's wrong or right)
You can sentence me
Sentence me to life
Better tell the truth, just let me plead my case
The thief who stole my heart from me I couldn't let escape
He's my only alibi, but I won't drop a dime
So how can I give up to you, my partner in crime
(He lives inside) my heart
(I'm in the middle too)
Ooh yeah yeah
(You never had a clue)
Unless you felt it too
(If love is a crime) baby
I'd do my time
Whether it's wrong or right
You can sentence me
Sentence me to life
(If love is a crime) baby
I'd do my time
Whether it's wrong or right
You can sentence me
(Sentence me to life)
You can take away my freedom
But you can't take my love from me
I won't die a lonely prisoner
'Cause my heart will set me free
Oooh ooh yeah
Whooh!
Chicago
-acapo

song performed by by Anastacia
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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S.O.S.

Is anybody listening?
Can they hear me when I call?
I'm shooting signals in the air
'Cause I need somebody's help
I can't make it on my own
So I'm giving up myself
Is anybody listening
Listening
I'll be standing here and I'm miles away
Making signals hoping they'd save me
I lock myself inside these walls
'Cause out there I'm always wrong
I don't think I'm gonna make it
So while I'm sitting here
On the eve of my death bed
I'll write this letter and hope it saves me
Is anybody listening?
Can they hear me when I call?
Shooting signals in the air
'Cause I need somebody's help
I can't make it on my own
So I'm giving up myself
Is anybody listening
Listening
I'm stuck in my own head and I'm oceans away
Would anybody notice if I chose to stay?
I'll send and SOS tonight
Wonder if I will survive
How in the hell did I get so far away this time
So now I'm sitting here
The time of my departure's near
I say a prayer
Please someone save me
Is anybody listening?
Can they hear me when I call?
Shooting signals in the air
'Cause I need somebody's help
I can't make it on my own
So I'm giving up myself
Is anybody listening
Listening
I'm lost here
I can't make it on my own
I don't wanna die alone
I'm so scared
Drowning now
Reaching out
Holding on to everything I love
Crying out
Dying now
Need some help
Is anybody listening?
Can you hear me when I call?
Shooting signals in the air
I need somebody's help
I can't make it on my own
I'm giving up myself
Is anybody listening?

song performed by by Good Charlotte
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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At The End Of The Dawn Mass

at the end of the dawn mass
she still hears the bells ringing

she still sees the white cassock
the cool air she feels inside her

heart and the restrained conver
sations inside the church she

likes to keep on going and
going because her loneliness

creeps like a centipede on
the side of her arms so gently

without any feet so tenderly
like she does want this moment

to leave her anymore, she nods
and kneels and says yes to every

thing to anything in her life there
are not more reasons why she

should be meticulous about
which way to go which option

to take which way to make her
self alive, to find her meaning.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Sonnet: On Praying the Rosary

Recite the rosary all through your life;
Witness its miraculous powers with time;
Just cruise with ease through earthly problems, strife;
Experience life divine that’s more sublime!

Implant the ‘crown of roses’ in your soul,
As satan’s poison weeds all vanish fast;
Receive all favours from Christ and new role
Including forgiveness for sins of past!

The Virgin’s womb gave mankind, Savior Lord;
All say the rosary for peace on earth;
Convert the atheist’s, sinner’s hearts to God;
Amend your lives to heaven’s Will from birth!

While fingers touch the beads divine and pray,
God’s love enflames the righteous souls His way!

Most lovingly dedicated to ‘Our Lady of The Rosary’
On her feast today
Copyright By Dr John Celes 08-10-11

poem by John Celes
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Turn Off The World

Got to pull it up
Got to pull it out
Got to survive
Got to stay calm
Got to think fast
Dont want to burn
Searching for a door
Searching for a way
Out of this thing
I dont know whats wrong
Dont know what to do
Im out of control
Nothing I can do
Nothing seems to work
Im barely alive
Got to slow it down
Got to do something
Or give in
Watching us fall
Trying everything
Fighting for life
Running out of time
I dont have a choice
Im riding it in
Im inside and Im trying to get out
Im inside and Im screaming for some help
And everythings gone wrong
Im listening to the sound of my own fear
Im listening to the sound of someones tears
Im listening to me
This is the fear
This is nothing like
You could believe
Panic in my heart
Like a cold hand
Pulling at strings
Ill do anything
Even pray to god
Just let me out
Turn off the machine
Turn off all the noise
Turn off the world
Im inside and Im trying to get out
Im inside and Im screaming for some help
And everythings gone wrong
Im listening to the sound of my own fear
Im listening to the sound of someones tears
Im listening to me
Im inside and Im trying to get out
Im inside and Im screaming for some help
And everythings gone wrong
Im listening to the sound of my own fear
Im listening to the sound of someones tears
Im listening to me
You learn fast when everything breaks down
You learn fast when thats all that you can do
You learn fast or nothing

song performed by by Gary Numan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Florence kneels down to say her prayers

Florence kneels down to say her prayers
At night.
I wonder what she says and why she cares
To pray at night.
I think when she kneels down to pray
At night
The names that have been on her lips all day
Are there, at night.
She interferes with destinies
At night.
My loves are free to do the things they please
By day, or night.

poem by Lesbia Harford
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The Girl With The Weight Of The World In Her Hands

She wont recover from her losses
Shes not chosen this path
But she watches who it crosses
Maybe move to the right
Maybe move to the left
So we can all see her pain she wears
Like a banner on her chest
And we all say its sad
And we think its a shame
And shes called to our attention
But we do not call her name
The girl with the weight
Of the world in her hands
Cause were busy with our happiness
And busy with our plans
I wonder if alone she wants it
Taken from her hands
But if things didnt keep getting harder
She might miss her sacred chance
To go a consecrated martyr
The girl with the weight
Of the world in her hands
I wonder which saint
That lives inside a bead
Will grant her consolation
When she counts upon her need
It makes us all angry
Though we feign to care
But who will be the scale
To weigh the cross she has to bear
The girl with the weight
Of the world in her hands
Is the glass half-full or empty
I ask her as I fill it
She said it doesnt really matter
Pretty soon youre bound to spill it
With the half logic language
Of the sermon she delivers
And the way she smiles so knowingly
At me gives me the shivers
I pull the blanket higher
When Im finally safe at home
And shell take a hundred with her
But she always sleeps alone
The girl with the weight
Of the world in her hands
I wonder which saint
That lives inside a bead
Will grant her consolation
When she counts upon her need
It makes us all angry
Though we feign to care
But who will be the scale
To weigh the cross she has to bear
The girl with the weight
Of the world in her hands

song performed by by Indigo Girls
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Penny Wise?

Woman is a paradox,
maid man, unmade-up, shocks:
first fair, then jet, straight, curly locks
preferring, spends her pounds
in losing pounds and thus she mocks
her wai(s) t on earth - weight grounds
high hopes for lightness - Goldilocks,
spends cents sans sense, from birth to box -
like men who her pet mirth are found,
both sage and jester, light, profound -
lies soon, sighs, swoons, earth bound.

2 December 1995 revised 18 July 2007
robi03_0794_robi03_0000 WXX_DJX

for previous version see below

Penny Wise?

Woman is a paradox,
She heights and depths both plumbs;
who golden here, there curly locks
prefers, who spends her pounds
in losing pounds and thus she mocks
her wai[s]t on earth - weight grounds
high hopes for lightness - Goldilocks
lies soon, sighs, swoons, earth bound.

2 December 1995

© Jonathan Robin

poem by Jonathan Robin
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The Human Shape

Racially pure European and Asian
men have straight hair growing
from their heads.
Some other men have hair that's
curly, growing from their heads.
But hair shape is not the shape that
really matters.
Because it's the shape of the human
forehead that makes you a man.
Rather than a chimpanzee.
Whether your skin color is white,
brown or bread-crust tan.

poem by Philip R. Garges Jr.
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Vanishing Into A Vacuum...

you gather each hair
of time
pulling each lock
to the tongue of your
fingers
savoring the delicacies
of pleasures
possible on this earth
perhaps
the do not have a hint
about what is happening
around your
universe
that from a distance
dims like the star
dissolving
into space dust
soon each planet
shall understand
why a star for
sometime
had been restless
for the face of vanishing
comes
soon another vacuum
is declared
another emptiness
back
upon itself
cupping no a drop
of time

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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A Golden Shower! ! ! ! !

Scattered by the broken string, bent to pick the beads.
You stood with some in cupped hands, did you my thoughts read?
Led me gently to balcony, to show Laburnum bloom.
Clusters of bright yellow flowers watch them with awe, droop.

Yellow petals formed a carpet, underneath the tree
You said its called golden shower, from far one can see.
The breeze carries the flowers, away from the loose bunch,
Just like my beads got separated, and I sat hunched.

I forgot about my rosary, as we stepped in the avenue.
Your nearness and fragrant air, tears blurred the view.
Careful not to crush the blossoms, lying on the grass
We strolled hand in hand, exchanging a glance…

poem by Mamta Agarwal
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