Colors
twin dark blue hills
golden sun peeping
nude bathing
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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My Father’s Son
Once
when I was still a baby boy
obsessed, thrilled with dark night sky
father said, shut your eyes tightly
then sailed I into dark night sky
dreaming of my arms
dipping in deep, dark-blue velvety
palpating golden sheen of the golden full moon
snatching twinkling stars.
But
i fell like lead
just before hard ground
to my father’s arms- veinated, calloused
his chirped nails safely grabbed
then
i opened my eyes
stretching my empty arms, pink nails
for a earnest glimpse of
a dip of deep, dark-blue velvety
golden sheen of the golden full moon
snatched twinkling stars.
and I felt sad.
Then-
father buried his head on my nape
his grizzly beard tickling my face
making little ‘blurp’ ‘blurp’ sounds
my shrill laughter
accosting his deep throaty laughter
echoing my disappointment into dark night sky
before sailing me into dark night sky
back to his rough-gentle arms
again
again
and again
to dip in deep, dark-blue velvety
palpate golden sheen of the golden full moon
snatching twinkling stars.
“Drink all Ma’s omena* soup
to be taller, reach the dark night sky”
father said, following my gaze
into the dark night sky
static radio bleating reggae
golden full moon bathing us in golden sheen
just me and my father
sleeping in his rough-gentle arms
dreaming of my arms
dipping in deep, dark-blue velvety
palpating golden sheen of the golden full moon
snatching twinkling stars
poem by Manuel Odeny
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The growth of mounts
Twin mounts grew to hills,
Thanks to lover’s hand.
Twin hills turned mountains,
Thanks to child’s mouth.
Woman is best as mother.
05.11.2004
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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A Nude Artist
A Nude Artist
he says he is a nude artist
because he is naked when he paints
such nakedness has
nothing to do with being a nude artist
a naked artist who paints a cat or a chicken
is not a nude artist
there is no nude cat
thyere is no nude chicken
just paint a naked woman
and he will be called a nude artist
an artist is not an art
he must know that
- Frog Mantra, Accents Publishing,2012 -
poem by Suchoon Mo_
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Stop Your Peeping Through Those Keyholes
Stop that peeping through those keyholes.
Open the windows and doors you've closed.
And take advantage of the time,
Bestowed upon you...
To stretch your mind.
Do this...
And you are certain to grow.
Stop your peeping through those keyholes.
Get fresh air and let yourself be exposed.
To all that is offered,
Beyond suspicions you guess..
And from rumors heard with gossip proposed.
Follow you must...
Each rising Sun.
From dawn 'til noon...
Until the dusk of twilight,
Invites nightfall that comes.
Stop that peeping through those keyholes.
Don't welcome your troubles,
To undo a happiness...
To chase away on the run.
Stop that peeping just to peek.
Stop that peeping just to peek.
Stop your peeping through those keyholes.
Stop that...
Peepng through those keyholes.
Open your windows and doors shut closed.
Stop that...
Peepng through those keyholes.
And take advantage of a life unlived.
One you have yet to accept.
Or come to know.
Stop your peeping through those keyholes.
And live a life to live to be bold.
Stop your,
Peeping through those keyholes.
And live a life to live that is proudly told.
Stop that peeping just to peek.
Stop that peeping just to peek.
Stop that peeping before you're too old.
Stop that,
Peeping through those keyholes.
And live a life to live to be bold.
Stop your,
Peeping through those keyholes.
And live a life to live that is proudly told.
Live a life to live that is proudly told.
And live a life before you're too old.
Stop that,
Peeping through those keyholes.
And live a life to live to be bold.
Stop your,
Peeping through those keyholes.
And live a life to live that is proudly told.
Live a life to live that is proudly told.
And live a life before you're too old.
Stop your,
Peeping through those keyholes.
And live a life before you're too old.
Stop your,
Peeping through those keyholes.
And live a life before you're too old.
Stop your,
Peeping through those keyholes.
And live a life before you're too old.
Live life before you're too old.
Stop your peeping through those keyholes.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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My Evil Twin
My evil twin, bad weather friend
He always wants to start when I want to begin*
It scares me so, like I scare myself
With that book of nostradamus up upon my shelf
Playing hangman til the morning light
Doing donuts on the neighbors lawn
Then sleep all through the day, get up and start again
I can hear some sirens somewhere but I dont know why
My evil twin runs home again
Search lights look for an alibi, but Ill be home by then
Here he comes again, my evil twin
My friends have seen him hiding underneath my skin
Who cut the arm off the voodoo doll
That resembles a republican president from long ago
Id hate to see you leave
cause I have grown so grateful for the
Blame you save me from
My twin
My twin
My twin
(my twin) I know he looks like me
(my twin) hates work like me and walks like me
(my twin) hes even got a twin like me
My evil twin, bad weather friend
I know some day Ill meet him
But I dont know where or when
song performed by by They Might Be Giants
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Jessie
WHEN Jessie comes with her soft breast,
And yields the golden keys,
Then is it as if God caress'd
Twin babes upon His knees--
Twin babes that, each to other press'd,
Just feel the Father's arms, wherewith they both are bless'd.
But when I think if we must part,
And all this personal dream be fled--
O then my heart! O then my useless heart!
Would God that thou wert dead--
A clod insensible to joys and ills--
A stone remote in some bleak gully of the hills!
poem by Thomas Edward Brown
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Bring Back The Good Old Times
cousin, let us bring back the good old times
climbing trees
gathering mangoes on the green hills
bathing nude on light brown rivers
basking in the sun on that big rock
fishing on ponds for mudfish
with earthworms as baits
jumping from tree trunks
to rivers below
riding on carabaos
barefoot on mudholes
swinging on half-fallen coconut trees
chasing dragonflies
making ripples on the blue seas
sailing on wooden boats
paddling on clear days
suns shining full
and moons glowing cool
cousin, let us bring back the old glorious times
we go back
to where we once were children, where our innocense like
incense in the taoist temples
glows and spreads
a certain pure perfume in
nature back united
to us
we are awed
we now wander....
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Sorrow's Twin
I am sorrow's twin,
No smiles here.
I have forgotten the sound
Of my own laughter...
I ramble around in dark rooms,
Stand in corners of dispair.
Can't get out of here.
My twin, sorrow,
Lay heavy on my chest,
So heavly I cannot rest.
Go away, you foolish whims
Speaking in whispers of a
Better tomorrow...
Leave me here with my twin
Sorrow!
She knows me better than you;
Makes no promises to be
Broken,
Gives out no token
Lies of peace and truth.
Let us be!
My twin sorrow, and me!
Dorothy Alves Holmes
A Poet Who Loves To Sing
poem by Dorothy Holmes
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127
bring back the good old times
cousin, let us bring back the good old times
climbing trees
gathering mangoes on the green hills
bathing nude on light brown rivers
basking in the sun on that big rock
fishing on ponds for mud fish
with earthworms as baits
jumping from tree trunks
to rivers below
riding on carabaos
barefoot on mud holes
swinging on half-fallen coconut trees
chasing dragonflies
making ripples on the blue seas
sailing on wooden boats
paddling on clear days
suns shining full
and moons glowing cool
cousin, let us bring back the old glorious times
we go back
to where we once were children, where our innocence like
incense in the Taoist temples
glows and spreads
a certain pure perfume in
nature back united
to us
we are awed
we now wander....
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Bathing Nymph
-A bathing beauty born to be afloat
On waters blue and still, well nigh the beach
Of forsaken isles, where no man has trod.
The pretty blonde with golden hair looks great,
As sun-beams swathe her raiment through and through;
The conchs and corals of the sea-bed show!
She plays with sea-gulls happily for long;
The water-waves wafting a divine song;
The lovely lass looks lit like fallen star!
The damsel day-dreams, drenched in dawn’s day-light!
There is no prince to woo her to be wife!
The bathing nymph has never tasted strife!
Her life goes on in Mother Nature’s lap!
Each sun-set drives her deep down for a nap;
She‘s up again smiling at break of day!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 8-4-2008
poem by John Celes
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A Nude Picture
Your love is like a nude picture in my mind and,
It is sweeter than a candy pie;
You are real and i am here to stay.
Like a nude picture,
Your taste is sweeter than the candy;
For it makes me feel so high!
Your love is like a nude picture in my mind and,
I am dying for your love my sweet one;
Oh girl, throw me an apple of your sweet love to run for it.
True love knows no boundary and,
Sweet love knows no barrier;
You are my precious one and, what is your hot-line? !
The only picture i have in my mind is your nude body.
I will wait for you always!
Even in the rain;
I will sing for you always!
Even on your bed;
My nude lover,
My nude picture,
What a beauty that you are! !
Like Romeo and Juliet.
Do rebounce on me always,
For your love is like a nude picture in my mind;
With the reflections of you in the mirror.
You are sweeter than the candy pie,
With much hope and dreams to the world of roses;
I will wait for you always my sweet one.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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On The Beach
the sun is up.
the peebles are hot.
the trees are brewing their greens
to the pluffy blue clouds.
we huddle together on a
thatch-roofed hut by the shore.
the waves splash on the
side of the big rock.
the sands gleam
some diamond sparks
the horizon is silvery
the cove curves beyond us
a little farther
a nude man approaches
another nude woman
and they run towards the
blue waters of the sea
we watch. This is new.
This is happening
in this country.
we watch closely.
and then the clouds
turn gray. The rain comes.
some leaks on the roof
of this hut. We listen.
We still have too much
to really learn.
we pretend we are
innocent about what is
happening.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Hues of blue
From the holiday apartment’s window
I see people swimming in the blue pool
and the water looks icy cold
from the dark blue colour
Some girls and women have
bathing caps on in colours
of white, green and blue
and others swim without
while some lie
around the pool.
While the day gets hotter
the colour of the pool changes
to a lighter hue
and just across the road
the beach is full
of people lying in the sun.
Some swim with the waves
breaking white
and some are deeper
in the aquamarine water
and still deeper
some surfers
are riding the waves
the of a navy blue ocean.
poem by Gert Strydom
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The bathing adventure
Blue and white fishes on a string
hangs on the bathroom wall,
a striped white and blue tiller
stands at the bath’s taps,
a small light tower
is warning on the edge of the bath
and a dark blue anchor,
alone against the wall
entice you to become part
of the bathing adventure
and the tiller man
is still ashore
while the water splashes into the bath.
I wonder why you enjoy it so much
to splash around like a kid
in the soothing hot water
and it’s very nice,
to wash my cares away
in the big bath.
poem by Gert Strydom
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The Naked and the Nude
For me, the naked and the nude
(By lexicographers construed
As synonyms that should express
The same deficiency of dress
Or shelter) stand as wide apart
As love from lies, or truth from art.
Lovers without reproach will gaze
On bodies naked and ablaze;
The Hippocratic eye will see
In nakedness, anatomy;
And naked shines the Goddess when
She mounts her lion among men.
The nude are bold, the nude are sly
To hold each treasonable eye.
While draping by a showman's trick
Their dishabille in rhetoric,
They grin a mock-religious grin
Of scorn at those of naked skin.
The naked, therefore, who compete
Against the nude may know defeat;
Yet when they both together tread
The briary pastures of the dead,
By Gorgons with long whips pursued,
How naked go the sometimes nude!
poem by Robert Graves
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Dark Blue By Jack Mannequinn
I have, I have you breathing down my neck, breathing down my neck
I don't, don't know what you could possibly expect under this condition so
I'll wait, I'll wait for the ambulance to come, ambulance to come
Pick us up off the floor what did you possibily expect under this condition so
Slow down, this nights a perfect shade of
Dark blue, dark blue
Have you ever been alone in a crowded room while I'm here with you
I said the world could be burning and burning down
Dark blue, dark blue
Have you ever been alone in a crowded room while I'm here with you
I said the world could be burning 'til there's nothing but dark blue
Just dark blue
And this flood, this flood is slowly rising up, swallowing the ground
Beneath, my feet. Tell me how anybody thinks under this condition so
I'll swim, I'll swim as the water rises up sun is sinking down and now
All I can see are the planets in a row suggesting it's best that I
Slow down this nights a perfect shade of
Dark blue, dark blue
Have you ever been alone in a crowded room while I'm here with you
I said the world could be burning and burning down
Dark blue, dark blue
Have you ever been alone in a crowded room while I'm here with you
I said the world could be burning dark blue
We were boxing, we were boxing the stars
We were boxing (we were boxing) you were swinging from Mars
And then the water reached the west coast
And took the power lines, the power lines
And it was me and you and the whole town underwater
There was nothing we could do
It was dark blue
Dark blue, dark blue
Have you ever been alone in a crowded room while I'm here with you
I said the world could be burning and burning down
Dark blue, dark blue
Have you ever been alone in a crowded room while I'm here with you
I said the world could be burning now there's nothing but dark blue
If you've ever been alone you'll know dark blue
If you've ever been alone you'll know, you'll know
poem by Joshua Burckhard
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Ill Be Yours
Ill be your water bathing you clean
The liquid piece
Ill be your ether youll breathe me in
You wont release
Well Ive seen you suffer, Ive seen you cry the whole night through
So Ill be your water bathing you clean
Liquid blue
Ill be your father, Ill be your mother,
Ill be your lover, Ill be yours x2
Ill be your liqour bathing your soul
Juice thats pure
And Ill be your anchor youll never leave
Shores that cure
Well Ive seen you suffer, Ive seen you cry for days and days
So Ill be your liqour demons will drown
And float away
Ill be your father, Ill be your mother,
Ill be your lover, Ill be yours x3
Yours...
song performed by by Placebo
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Woman’s chest
The twin discs falling apart,
The twin apples standing up,
Or the twin mangoes reclining
Have their charm on woman’s chest.
29.04.2003
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Summer's Day
blue sky, golden plain,
fading hills filled with light -
with summer’s living flame.
poem by Steven Federle
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I love to swim in the nude and roam around the house in the nude. You're just as free as a bird!
quote by Bettie Page
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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