Covered Eyes
on covered eyes
amidst the darkness
moonless and
starless
on that quiet patch
of thick grass
we see much better
our ears sharper
our minds
more open
our mouths gaping
our skins sweating
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Related quotes
Sonnet – Amidst
Amidst pitch -black darkness, God shows a light;
Amidst a Forest thick, He shows a way;
Amidst black clouds, He brings a moonlit night;
Amidst sorrows, God gives a happy day.
Amidst the desert, Oasis God shows;
Amidst the stormy Sea, He brings calm;
Amidst much strife, He opens newer doors;
Amidst much hopelessness, a helping palm.
Amidst tempest, God shows a bright light-house;
Amidst the glaciers, much sought-after peak;
Amidst our solitude, He gives a spouse;
Amidst the ravines deep, the lost lamb meek.
Amidst the chaos, God ushers new hope,
Amidst the gloom, He gives the church a Pope.
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Darkness
Been spending so much time underground
I guess my eyes adjusted
To the lack of light
I got
Covered in darkness
Covered in darkness
Hibernating always waiting for something new
Happiness always endin'
In the blink of an eye
There was no one attending
No one attending
It doesn't really matter where it all began
All I know
I got covered in darkness
Covered in darkness
Ever wonder why I never really truly connect
Although my eyes are open
I can hold your gaze
But I am never connected
Never connected
I am famous for my generosity
They say I am the kindest
But it is easier to
Give than receive love
Give than receive love
It doesn't really matter where it all began
All I know
I was covered in darkness
Covered in darkness
Turning pages over
Run away to nowhere
And it's hard to take control
When your enemy's old and afraid of you
You'll discover that the monster you were running from
Is the monster in you
Better to hold on to love
Better to hold on to love
Change will come
It doesn't really matter where it all began
All I know
I was covered in darkness
Covered in darkness
It doesn't really matter where it all began
Cuz all I know
I was lost
I was lost
No, no
It doesn't really matter where it all began no no
All I know
I was lost
I feel lost
Lost
No...
song performed by by Darren Hayes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Que sera sera, whatever will be will be
Three blind girls did sing
This que sera sera song
This whatever will be will be
Their voices did blend well
Their bodies stiff in their darkness
Since birth then today they come
On a heavenly cause
The three blind girls did make us cry
As we all watch them
How long have we been blind too?
Uncaring about those with disabilities?
Those who are deaf, and blind and mute
Those who cannot sing and walk and talk
We watch them sing we saw our tears falling
Have they too opened our eyes from this stark blindness?
I still cry today, though there is no need for you to see,
I, too, grapple, with my wide eyes open
This darkness at high noon
This muteness with my gaping mouth wide open
This silence amidst the boiling noise
Inside these vast and empty halls
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Grass stands tall! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !
How do raindrops balance on grass blades?
It seemed like stars had descended on glade.
Startled, I watched standing by a lamppost.
Undeterred by clouds, and earth played host.
Overnight the grass had gained inches in height.
I sat and looked despite mosquito bites.
You would have said if you were by my side,
They have tears of joy glistening in eyes.
Does grass have feelings, eyes and ears?
Could it be… music of rain it can hear?
Raindrops, tears or stars… whatever you name,
All I know is we have talked and shared.
For on that moonless, still, cloudy night,
I simply forgot whatever was on my mind.
I bent down, and am sure heard it whisper,
Oh yes, I have no doubt grass can speak and hear.
When I woke up after a fitful, disturbed night,
And wandered out, I was aghast at the sight.
Grass was quiet yet dignified; it had been run over.
By a merciless, noisy and rusty lawn mower.
The stubble reminded of an unshaven face.
, Stoic, no trace of grief or need for solace.
A couple of days later gardener stood exasperated.
Grass laughed and stood tall, wet and animated.
poem by Mamta Agarwal
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How To Deal With A Very Beautiful Disciple
she comes like a princess from the
a castle high up there on those blue clouds
descending from the sun
down to the mountains
and the rivers
and to this
pond
i am the grass, and she wants to lie down with me
so i can teach her about what, i ask, about poetry she says,
no there is no poetry with me for
i am the grass, and you signal the wind so you may leave at once
and be back to the arms of the heavens
but i think a while and change my mind for i am the grass
and i am a teacher of all mankind, those who want to die and be
covered with my hands, and those who want to stay and be
with my greeness, my softness and i in humility whispers to her
my princess, stay with me for a while, lie with me, and sleep with me
under the moon, the darkness of the night shall be our blanket,
my thick leaves of grass, your pillow,
i am the grass, i may not teach you what poetry is,
what i have is to spread
love and togetherness, and intimacy that i have with the soil
my secrets with the worms, my eternity
with what death has concealed from the eyes of your world.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Beethoven
Theres a tremor in the city but it looks all quiet
There is something awful brewing but there aint riots
Beethoven
You can read between the lines that there must be more
Youre alarmed but you dont know what youre waiting for
Beethoven
Beethoven, the boots are back in town
When ignorance and fear are closing mouths and ears
The skins are on their way when it gets dark in europe
Its just a state of mind, the blind leading the blind
Beethoven
Theres a scrawling on a tombstone
Judenschweine raus
Once again the racial fury is burning down the house
Beethoven
Theres a bleeding yellow man lying in the streets
But there isnt anybody doing anything
Beethoven, the boots are back in town
When ignorance and fear are closing mouths and ears
The skins are on their way when it gets dark in europe
Its just a state of mind, the blind leading the blind
And one grey day shall rise the flood no dikes will stem the heavy tides
When cold pierced feathered bodies scream
They fall as if the monstrous scythe of clouds had smashed them from the sky
The scattered squadron of mankind stabs right into the churned up ether
Of long forgotten birdless flights
Beethoven, the boots are back in town
The demons of the past will be replaced at last
There are smarter ones to stay, how can you stay away
From the order of disgrace, how can you close your eyes
Beethoven, the boots are back....
Gold/1993
song performed by by Alphaville
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Three silly monkeys
See no evil!
Speak no evil!
Hear no evil!
Preached a sage
Three monkeys heard and became impressed
They started practising the given rules
Without giving any deeper thought
As incapable they were, to do so
Each time they saw something thing they considered evil
They closed their eyes
Each time they heard of evil
They closed their ears
Any mentioning of the evil
And they covered their mouths
Interpreting the teaching
As best as they could
One day they heard the roar of a cheeta
Which sounded so sinister
Immediately they covered their ears
They felt the impulse to speak
About the evil that neared
But instead
They put their hands on mouths
They saw Cheeta approaching
But followed the golden teaching
By closing their eyes
Certain they were
That sage’s teachings were to save
And Evil was to disappear
But the beast came
Devoured all three silly monkeys
Everything in this world has two sides to look upon, many in this world consider and portray these monkeys as three wise ones, question is, how you would rank them!
Ode to Sleep
Sleep sometimes when i seek you
you leave me high and dry
a night turning over and over
leaf of listlessness
asunder on sea of tempest
veins of anguish seeping
through like mirages
sleep sometimes i got
overtaken by you
without much prayer
moon or moonless
starry night or starless
i black out in your thick bossom
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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To Trap Unsuspecting Flies
People only listen,
When their ears are prepared to hear.
And their minds are ready to receive,
Useful and needed information...
Without interfering with misinformed signals.
Prior to that...
Their mouths are open,
For the most part...
To eat on treats and to trap,
Unsuspecting flies!
And lies?
Well...
There is a process called maturity,
That eliminates the encouragement...
For them to be told with innocent eyes.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Professor
engrossed in an ocean of
thoughts
drifted on the pages
without edges
one swims through thick
letters
his ears drowned by
syllables
there is neither sun or moon
there
but alas! there are so many stars
against the
darkness of
his soul
he is space spreading like wings
of the phoenix
amidst his thirsty
students
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The darkness of my soul
My soul is dark.
Darker than the night sky on a moonless night.
Darker than my room on a moonless night.
If I shall die on this moonless night.
My soul shall rise nor fall within the darkness of the night.
Without any light in the sky of this moonless night.
poem by Charles Howard
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If You Don't From Them Leave!
When mouths are open and ears are closed...
Walk away from this.
Do not hesitate,
As if waiting for this to change.
Walk away from this.
People have been conditioned and trained,
Not to hear or further listen.
Pieces of what they miss is impatiently dismissed
Walk away from this.
When mouths are open and ears are closed...
People will choose ignorance to expose.
Since they have been conditioned to not listen.
And folks convinced like these...
Will bring you to your knees,
If you don't from them decide you should leave!
If you don't from them leave! ,
You're doomed to grieve.
Minds like these are locked without a key.
Walk away from this.
People have been conditioned and trained,
Not to hear or further listen.
Pieces of what they miss is impatiently dismissed
Walk away from this.
Before your life becomes a misery.
And choose to move and do it instantly.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Breaking A Promise
i promised myself
not to open this pc
and not to write a poem
hardheaded
here i am again
irritating you
no rules, no form,
no grace, no beauty,
no meter, no count
insensitive, unbearable,
persistent, pestering,
pondering, and always
on the themes of
black, shapeless,
starless, moonless
dark, cold, and damp.
i break promises.
but i do not curse.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Open Up Your Eyes
Choosing stones...
Big enough to drag me down
Where I am...
People's voice's make hollow sounds
Just be quiet...
They'll go away
Open up your eyes...
Don't let your mind tell the story here
Open up your eyes...
Just let me go
It's so safe...
It's so safe floating in the glass
While above...
While above all your troubles pass
Just be quiet...
They'll go away
Open up your eyes...
Don't let your mind tell the story here
Open up your eyes...
Just let me...
Open up your eyes...
Don't let your mind tell the story here
Open up your eyes...
Just let me go
song performed by by Tonic from Lemon Parade
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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What Mother Tells Me
she is always the first to wake up in the house
as she prays the rosary
and father follows to check the carabao on the side
of the hill and transfer it to a greener pasture
while we their children are still asleep
always wanting more sleep on those cold days
curled in our bed covered with thick blankets
and soft pillows on our heads and our ears all covered up
against the sound of the kitchen
our eyes hiding from the light of the morning sun
and mother pulls my blanket
and takes my arm and hugs me and tells me
wake up! wake up! the night is over
go to the river and take your bath
there is no one on your side now
the rest have gone to their respective tasks
wake up! wake up! my son
go and clean yourself and face the day because
the night is over
and these words still cling to my ears:
the night is over
and another one will be coming
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Scarecrows
i have been wanting to say
everything
yes everything from the most trivial
to the most important
those subdued
those concealed
those that beat in protest
those that can even kill me
or us
because we have been too meek
because we have been to subservient
to the dictates of restraints
look at us
emaciated with suppression
too guilty about unused freedoms
of tools shining inside the cabinets
of some disguises
look at us
we are less human
our mouths thin out
our ears sealing the orifices
of truth
our minds are nothing but plains
without grass
ourselves
scarecrows in the fields
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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There would not be so many open mouths if there were not so many open ears.
quote by Bishop Hall
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Festival Of Lights
Rows of lamps lit up the place.
My home was also covered with lights.
You feared the darkness leaving a trace...
Few candles at the gate would make it right!
Set out for lamps to meet the need of your eyes,
I walked through a world of darker night;
Where amidst noise, the plea of silence had to die
And starved faces with trembling hands stood upright.
While lighting up the facade, we remained unaware
About the darkness within, we didn't care.
poem by Kingshuk Chakraborty
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A human being has so many skins inside, covering the depths of the heart. We know so many things, but we don't know ourselves! Why, thirty or forty skins or hides, as thick and hard as an ox's or bear's, cover the soul. Go into your own ground and learn to know yourself there.
quote by Meister Eckhart
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Exist Amidst A Thick Overgrowth Of Luxury
i exist amidst a thick overgrowth of luxury
&
i exist amidst a thick overgrowth of luxury
and a dense undergrowth of affluence-
i can touch, feel and gape in wonder
but i have no rights at all to enjoyment-
yes, i am a slave girl born to toil and clean;
showered in abuses and punishment
with restless bones and sleepless eyes-
my dreams too scare me to death-
and in the palatial houses with hundred doors
i have no gates open for me to breathe my free air-
i could feel the stench of prosperity and gold
suffocating me to death and hell-
o how i wish to cry my heart out to a real dear soul-
god, grant me the penniless life of a poor
to kiss the dust of my distant earth
shouting my joy of a carefree pastoral bliss!
--s.chandra kalaadhar
poem by Sundaram Chandrakalaadhar
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