Conceit and Deceit

what i have in my hands
are only stones

if you search for more
pebbles

my mind can give you
but first

you must entice me
with a flower in your hand

for you to have stones
that soon will grow you

some leaves of sand
that soon shall show you

how pebbles can be flowers
too

what you have are only
flowers

a little bit lighter than
the twigs of their source

what i have in my hands
are pebble that give us weight

yes, weight is wisdom
and they are all stones

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Stones of Death

I gather the stones of death,
My options are few and a breath;
This I design with my hands
And the feet may be from badlands.

The stones I picked deceived me,
Their large amount was ivory;
I wanted a little pebble or parable
To consist of the wisdom not horrible.

The horror I concerned myself with
Was loved by demons and the gunsmith;
Shooting carried disorder like stones,
Pebbles called bullets fired at bones.

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Listening Stones

Listening Stones.

These mossy stones put on top of each other…a wall.
green plants sprouts out of them like ears, do they hear
my whisper of compassion? Guarding small plots of
land no one tills anymore, where thieving sheep eat rare
flowers without a second thought.

One field is blood red of flowers that should end all wars.
They sell the plastic variety for you to put on your lapel
and show you remember the nameless soldier who fell
on a grimy battle field with an unanswered question on
his bloody lips.

Old stones once you were children of the highest peak
But the peak disappeared into sand, tired of it colossal
weight. Look at you now, guardians of hidden beauty, you
can stop nothing as rain grinds you into pebbles and
dumb sheep continue grazing on rare flowers.

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Pebbles & Stones

Pebbles and stones,

Of different tones.

Oval or Round.

Black or Brown.

Smooth or rough

Oddly enough,

People collect

pebbles and stones.

They like to select

the smooth and round.

They like to select,

if it's shiny and brown.

Do you like pebbles too?

Or stones in black and blue?

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Stones

Stones
Stones would play inside her head
And where she slept,
They made her bed
And she would ache
For love and get but stones
La la la la la la la la la
Lordy, child
A good days comin
And Ill be there to let the sun in
And bein lost
Is worth the comin home
La la la la la la la la la on stones
You and me, a time for planting
You and me, a harvest granting
The every prayer ever prayed
For just two wild flowers that grow
La la la la la la la la la on stones
Mmmmmmmm.....

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The Poems Flutter

Along each river in thousands are the ditches,
And the dungeons that conceals the objects,
Thousands of things hidden to the human eyes.

Man in fact is a brimming river wide and deep,
Thousands of ditches hide secrets countless;
As pebbles, sand, stones dwell in the bottom,
Covered with the opaque oozy settling layers.

I bring out those pebbles, sand and stones,
To construct, erect the castle with thick walls,
Where nestle themselves poems mysterious,
And often flutter; flap there from one by one.

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Beach,4 P.m. Somewhere...

as i walk along the beach
this afternoon
i give in to the child in me
picking up stones,

amazed by its colors
and shapes
i begin to make stories out
of them...stones, smaller ones,
like a creature possessed by an
enigma,

there must be an underlying
truth to its
shape, it is, as it must
be telling me about
what happens to me
after this?

is this a hurting enigma?
am i mad at my attempt to give meaning
to one without meaning?

i am interpreting a pebble
the smallness of humility the silence
of the insignificant
the wars of the sands
the struggle of the waves of the sea
chasing each other
as to who reaches the thighs of
the shore first

a mad man is reading the shores
of the sea on
a very insignificant moment of the day

the stones are writing novels
on the hot skins of the shores

people who pass me by are sparing me
of saying anything
and they refuse to look at me and give
that look
of that feeling that i must have been
one kind of
a wasted man

a child looks at me with pity
and asks, what are you doing with the pebbles?

are they speaking to you?

i am awakened by this vastness
sometimes to be found, i must experience being lost myself
in the secret labyrinths of
thought

the child is looking for play,
i do not have it.

poem by Ric S. BastasaReport problemRelated quotes
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Life Is ~ The Stones Under My Feet

Life is the stones under my feet
All the places I've walked
All the places I haven't
They say something about who I am
The pebbles that I pick up to toss in the ocean
The boulders I've sat on
The skipping stones I throw across the lake
Gravel and sand
And cobblestone streets
Places with history
Places where history is about to be written
And what it has to say for my history
All those stones that I've crunched
Under my boots
Or sandals
Or sneakers
Or just my bare feet
Walking carefully
And there occasionally is a piece of glass
When I cut myself I bleed
But I heal in the end
Then I get up to walk on more stones
Because life is where you choose to walk
And where you don't

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Editing Same Path

I HAVE walked upon this path
alone
and that was years ago
when i still cry
water the pebbles with tears
they do not grow
flowers
there are no trees there

One day
I come down from the clouds
since i am heavy with
rain in my
heart and decide to
walk back the path
of stones

I have seeds of clouds in my pocket
rainbow shoots in my hands

The path have since then
bloomed with dew
and vapors rise to the skies
in prayers

Trees grow and
bees pollinate
a new world is born
since then
and children come and play
their games
again

poem by Ric S. BastasaReport problemRelated quotes
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Everyday I Feel That I Am Slowly Buried

i try to wake up and rise from my lowly state
and every hour that you face me i feel like a small turtle
in my silence beside the still river and you speak and explain
and argue like the wind and the leaves and the clouds

everyday when i am with you i feel like am being buried everyday
layer and layer of sand and pebbles and stones and twigs
and branches and heaps of leaves
i am losing my art of breathing and i am beginning to accept the fact
that you have the capacity to lose me

the world shrinks and the river becomes deeper
the view around me is crowded and dark and i look for you
i call for you and you are no longer there

sometimes i need to redefine love when companionship loses the grip
of hands.

poem by Ric S. BastasaReport problemRelated quotes
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Pebbles And Marbles

She started a blaze from one tiny spark
I didn't even detect
She loved the light, was dismayed by the dark
The stars, though, she seemed to respect
The faint light that flutters at night to the Earth
Would land in her eyes and collect
Luminous creatures she'd find in the surf
I never thought to inspect
Pebbles and marbles, like things on my mind
Seem to get lost and harder to find
When I am alone, I am inclined
If I find a pebble in the sand
To think that it fell from my hand
She gave me ideas, planted the seed
But she never stopped to reflect
The course that she's on, wherever it leads
I never would redirect
Pebbles and marbles, like words from a friend
Make us hold tight, but are lost in the end
When we're alone, we all seem to tend
If we find a marble in the dust
To wish someone left it for us
Pebbles and marbles, like things on my mind
Seem to get lost and harder to find
When I am alone, I am inclined
If I find a pebble in the sand
To wish that it fell from my hand
Pebbles and marbles, like things on my mind...

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The Air is a Root

The air is a root.
The stones are filled with tenderness. bravo.
bravo. the stones are filled with air.
the stones are watery branches.
on the stones replacing the mouth
grows the skeleton of a leaf. bravo.
A stone voice face to face and foot to foot
with a stone glance.
the stones are tormented like flesh
the stones are clouds for their second
nature dances to them on their third nose.
bravo. bravo.
when the stones scratch themselves, nails grow
on the roots. bravo. bravo.
the stones woke to eat the exact
hour

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Orando laborando.

it is not his name

it is
this prayer
hand in hand
with prayer

these are the hands
that clasp
after a day of
plowing those
arid lands

the silence of the stones
after the
pebbles have
gritted

the chair facing
the sunset
after the door is
banged

it happens when
we finally rest
in sleep
after we shout
to one
another.

poem by Ric S. BastasaReport problemRelated quotes
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Pebble Justice

he picks up a pebble
and throws it into the sea
from a cliff
he asks: this is not a place
for pebbles
so this is not a pebble
i will return it to the sea
and be with the sands
and shells and
waves and winds
and seaweeds
and crabs

does he not wonder at all
if he has the power to decide where a pebble must be?

sometimes people assume so much
behaving like a god

must he think a little deeper and realize
that what is proper for the people is not proper for a pebble
that pebbles too have minds of their own
and who know if the same pebble to thinks
that the cliff is not the place of man
assuming to be its own god?

must he be considerate enough that pebbles too have
their own invisible feet
and well developed brains
and that when the man throws it into the sea
on the ground only of
impropriety
that the pebble may have objected it vehemently and could have
used its own hidden powers
but only that it did not show it
by reason of pity that this man
is so dumb
and so limited
in the flesh of its
own selfish
understanding?

does he not know that a pebble too demands respect
have privacy
and soon shall take its
inevitable revenge?

'bury mankind! they have thrown us away
without our consent' that is their clamor now
in their own
Pebble Court using their Pebble law
to be judged later
by their Pebble Magistrates.

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Why We Fight pt 1 (Lock and Load)

You’ve walked out the garden and watched your hands go

From picking up berries to picking up ammo

The same sticks and twigs that build up your village

Fight off the conquers and plunders and pillage//

-Stones and sticks and sticks and stones

Gather them up to protect your home

And when needed use them on some bones

Lay them all down to outline your zone

Raise them and burn them on your throne

Monsters can’t outrun the sticks and stones-

Sharpen your spears to take down your dinner

You and the beast can’t both be the winner

It’s about time you got out of this slump

Load up your brains to outsmart the hunt

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There Will Be No Words So Accurate Perhaps...

my wish is to simply tell you
what i was, am
and can possibly be,
i do not wish that you extend your hand to me and take me to your place
i am here
and that is the only fact that i am
i can manage myself
just like everyone else
i do not know about helping hands
i have mine somehow
my wish is simple enough
to find the words to give you the picture
of what we are
who we were, where can we be
and what shall we be,
the words have not been well enough
they are shorter and inaccurate for
the size of our dreams
i still wish to find the words
and i am getting older
and older

sooner shall i realize perhaps that
there are no such words,

that what we are
are but dreams and aspirations
and that there are
and there will be no words
exact for all these

when we die, they will bury us, and then they will give us
the perfect sigh

and if you take a closer look, they speak through the
flowers and the stones
their tears and their hands
and then
finally on the marks of their footsteps
away from us....

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O' Dear Pebble

the elephants cannot walk over you
the birds and the worth of words over you
but in case they do, careful they ought to be
for yours is the flower that blossom
that which no man can see that either
can them that otherwise not known to you
for you is the strength of mine hands

and so it goes the pebble on my palm
that my eyes caught by the pebbles
and caught by the words
you uttered o' dear pebble
the words you made me walk in thought
the answers some i did not
have until on my hand i picked you

the dances on my palm caught me
dancing to the music
i barely could hear
not that i could not
but the rhythm i tell you
was the soul to my heart in talk
and so were that man that walked their path

that man that looks their path
to see where next to foot step
and endorse my foot print
on the yards of the pebbles
as i lifted my head too
in talk to mine with you
but was in thought of memory

since i had long taken you back home
to see you next in the next day
of existence
as i hope to not to die tonight
rather see you before if i do
for i so in dire need to see you
o' dear pebble of my hand

opn12092012/2154

poem: o' dear pebble
poet: onalethuso petruss ntema
book title: the pebbles

© september 2012
book no.10 of 2012

ntema's unique poetry (nup)

email: opncompanies.bw2gmail.com

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An Art Message

HE gathered cherry-stones, and carved them quaintly
Into fine semblances of flies and flowers;
With subtle skill, he even imaged faintly
The forms of tiny maids and ivied towers.

His little blocks he loved to file and polish;
And ampler means he asked not, but despised.
All art but cherry-stones he would abolish,
For then his genius would be rightly prized.

For such rude hands as dealt with wrongs and passions
And throbbing hearts, he had a pitying smile;
Serene his way through surging years and fashions,
While Heaven gave him his cherry-stones and file!

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Sonnet On Receiving A Gift

Look how the golden ocean shines above
Its pebbly stones, and magnifies their girth;
So does the bright and blessed light of Love
Its own things glorify, and raise their worth.
As weeds seem flowers beneath the flattering brine,
And stones like gems, and gems as gems indeed,
Ev'n so our tokens shine; nay, they outshine
Pebbles and pearls, and gems and coral weed;
For where be ocean waves but half so clear,
So calmly constant, and so kindly warm,
As Love's most mild and glowing atmosphere,
That hath no dregs to be upturn'd by storm?
Thus, sweet, thy gracious gifts are gifts of price,
And more than gold to doting Avarice.

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A Rock Garden

in my present garden
i put rocks and pebbles
some sands
added dusts

they ask what do i grow
in there?

i put a chair and sit there
alone

barefoot i put my hands
in the open

i gaze
feeling like the sun
to some
planets

the stones as i walk
for a while
grate
as though they have
teeth

then back to where i sit
they begin
to grow silence

silence is a lotus
it is a pond too where
a dragonfly is
hovering

there is this stillness of a
little universe
the space is emptiness
of imaginary
stars

there is no moon here
no one is lost

there are no leaves
no pretensions of stems and calyx

the stones are faceless
like everyone that i meet in the mall

the rocks stand like gods
unchanged unaffected by the chaos of
my thoughts

i gaze
transfer my eyes to those that remain
intact

immutable hardness
fixed situations

they only sound when you take a walk
they do not rearrange things here
for they are heavy
and always
unchanged, unaffected
steady, firm

lifeless, unfeeling
stubborn, solid,

tonight darkness sleeps with them
its coldness seeps in every stone

lifelessly
always unaffected, unfeeling

and much as i wanted to stay
i can't

i have life out there
a door to open again and again...

poem by Ric S. BastasaReport problemRelated quotes
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Soulfire

Every morning as I wake to another day
I bow my head hit my knees and I begin to pray
I search for answers that I wonder if I'll ever find
Running circles in the mazes deep inside my mind
You always take me to a higher level
Show something that's deep inside
You show me things I never knew

You push me you pull me

You set my soul on fire
You take me so much higher
Higher again
Thank you for it all

Everyday living this life not knowing what it means
Consolation from above fulfilling all my dreams
And as I look across the crowd in their eyes I see
All their troubles and their pain staring back at me
You always take me to a higher level
You show me something that's deep inside
You show me things I never knew
You push me you pull me

You always give the best for me
Lift your hands high right where I can see
You always give the best for me
Lift your hands high right where I can see

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