Creep
the vine underneath a thick foliage
always has a way of making itself seen
so slowly it creeps and climbs
the fence
each brick, each grill, each wall
the tendrils climb
and then when it finally sees the sun
it lets go its happy smile
through its little honeysuckles
i watch and felt the art of the tendrils
curling and curling sprouting and then
blooming.
There is a purpose, there is this vision.
I am keeping it. This vine.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Vines of Love
Two hearts beating as one
Entwined like a vine
The many colours of love's curling ends
Rolling fingers on canvas
Like soft gentle flaps of butterfly wings
Toe curling sighs of delight
Eating juiciest fruit from the vine
Creeping crawling whatever the calling
Under the moon's light
Twirling curling consuming
Caressing with words
Touching souls
Vine steadied around pillars of stairway
Love shading the night
poem by Persian Khushi
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There Is Something That We Must Write
we must write about the language that they are using
in the common places such as the
market
or the barbershop or at the playing fields or even in the
zoo
we must write nothing new
nothing to invent
or to make from our very own hands and minds
what we must do is simply to look around and discover
the shape of the wind
and its soft fingers
there is nothing new in our making only this sensitivity and this discovering
of what is around us
that which grows by themselves and blooms and lingers and extends
like some tendrils of this flowering vine
slowly moving
unnoticed by all except you
becoming aware of that was not there
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Vine tendrils tender
ferment the seasons' reasons
as causal blender
haiku by Jonathan Robin (24 October 2006)
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Sunset Grill
Lets go down to the sunset grill
We can watch the working girls go by
Watch the basket people walk around and
Mumble
And stare out at the auburn sky
Theres an old man there from the old world
To him, its all the same
Calls all his customers by name
Down at the sunset grill
Down at the sunset grill
Down at the sunset grill
Down at the sunset grill
You see a lot more meanness in the city
Its the kind that tears you up inside
Hard to come away with anything that feels
Like dignity
Hard to get home with any pride
These days a man makes you somethin
And you never see his face
But there is no hiding place
Down at the sunset grill
Down at the sunset grill
Down at the sunset grill
Down at the sunset grill
Respectable little murders pay
They get more respectable every day
Dont worry girl, Im gonna stick by you
And someday soon were gonna get in that
Car and get outta here
Lets go down to the sunset grill
Watch the working girls go by
Watch the basket people walk around and
Mumble
And gaze out at the auburn sky
Maybe well leave come springtime
Meanwhile, have another beer
What would we do without these jerks
Anyway?
Besides, all our friends are here
Down at the sunset grill
Down at the sunset grill
Down at the sunset grill
Down at the sunset grill
song performed by by Don Henley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Vine
on a sunny day
the vine
on its tendrils carefully
cling
on the trellis
like some fingers
holding
a prisoner
in his jail
i look up
and i see some stars
i close my eyes
and you are always here
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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There Is Really Nothing Hard
there is really nothing hard
to write a poem
from the deepest chamber
of your heart
the words come
naturally
like tendrils from the vine
always seeking the light
of the sun
to hand in its flowers
without being taught
without being fought
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Each Second Auspicious
April is oft the time
for the tendrils
of new vine roots
but love at any time
can bear instantaneous fruit
poem by O. Anna Niemus
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I Like The Flow Of Language That Is So Natural
like falling rain
hitting a yam leaf,
round drops sliding
to the tendrils
of a vine
like water leaking
from a roof
saved by
a tin can
(remember poor
Basho's poem
while he was trying
to sleep
on a rainy day)
like the sound of lips making a kiss
of the ten fingers of the hands sliding
on thighs
down to the most sensitive
part of the human body
the vulva &
the glans
in mutuality of
accepting the rule
of desire
making the most out
of the last remaining
moments of
love.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Pleasures
a smooth flow of chivas regal
inside my throat lingering
but only for a while,
a white flower carried by this vine
on its soft tendrils crawling an iron fence
a trellis as lean-on
a salmon sushi bathed in soy bean sauce
and a fingerfull of wasabe
inside my tongue the chili running
towards me throat lingering and
rising in my nostrils in my brain
hot green tea that i sip
slowly
chopstick on top of a teriyake
a bowl of seafood ramen
its flavors rising to the lamps
of the ceiling
i face you and you face me
at this moment
we nod to make another sip
of life
we face each other again
remembering a promise.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Little Man (Fun Poem 8)
There is a little man who stands on a shelf
He stares all day at a creeping vine
One day he will come alive
Climb down the vine
And runaway
With the sunshine
poem by David Harris
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You Write Because Of A Certain Purpose
writing with a purpose.
like everything and everyone
always with a purpose...
beauty, and hope and sadness
and death and redemption...
all these have built-in purposes
but whatever that is
the things-in-themselves
without mouths speak for what they mean
outstretched tendrils looking for the ray of the sun
blooming petals wanting for someone to adore
pathways seeking themselves on a certain destinations
seas covering the earth giving way to the existence of maps
and so i write, i keep the purpose within my letters
my words that you read
this poem that shows arms opening
to embrace you and also to keep my cold heart warm.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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A Flower To Auroville Mother-92
Kodiroja(Coral vine, Antigonon leptopus)
White Coral Vine(Antigonon leptopus 'Alba')
I sowed in my childhood
Eager I waited and stood
You grew into my heart
High to the Lord's feet
As high As Him so good
I can feel Him pleased
Your floral aura filled
Pinkish bracts guarding
Subdued flowers smiling
Thickened greens appeased
Coral, grow fast and wild
Slender tendrils upward
Hearty leaves in bushes
My heart well in clutches
Viny coral, twist entwined
poem by Indira Renganathan
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The dullest Olympic sport is curling, whatever 'curling' means.
quote by Andy Rooney
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Underneath This Smile
What I'm standing on is sinking in
And I don't have a clue how to get off of it
But when I look at you there is hope
It's like you see the sadness in my eyes
You read the blue between the lines
You could be the one to hold me when I wanna cry
Underneath this smile
My world is slowly caving in
All the while
I'm hanging on
Cause that is all I know
Could you be the one to save me
From every bad habit that has helped me dig this hole?
I've been hiding out for miles
Underneath this smile
I have walked this earth with broken bones
I've been keeping secrets under all these lights
But when you're around my defenses go
You don't let me run away from you
You don't let me twist and turn the truth
It feels as if I'm naked when you're standing in the room
Underneath this smile
My world is slowly caving in
All the while
I'm hanging on instead of letting go
Could you be the one to save me from every bad habit that has helped me dig this hole?
I've been hiding out too long
Underneath this smile
Underneath this smile
Oh, yeah
Underneath this smile
My world is slowly caving in
All the while
I'm hanging on instead of letting go
Could you be the one to save me from every bad habit that has helped me dig this hole?
Underneath this smile
Could you be the one to save me from every bad habit that has helped me dig this hole?
I've been hiding out for miles
Underneath this
Underneath this
Underneath this smile
What I'm standing on is sinking in
song performed by by Hilary Duff
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Boom Boom In The Zoom Zoom Room
Passing the match test?
Thats some kind of tease, cuz everything rests on the moment the little flame sees.
Lets go boom boom in the zoom zoom room.
If you get past that brief little flash, take down my number with your pencil moustache.
Play truth or dare in the light of a strike anywhere.
Dont follow the fallen already lying down there.
Lets go boom boom in the zoom zoom room.
Oh yeah, uh huh.
Boom boom in the zoom zoom room.
Ill be the cause you can champion.
Your scarlet companion.
And wont it be fine?
Keeping my head above water.
Im no farmers daughter.
No clinging vine.
When we trip the light fantastic, a feeling so rare, it will follow your features aligned by the glare...
Lets go boom boom in the zoom zoom room.
Lets go boom boom in the zoom zoom room.
Ill be the cause you can champion.
Your scarlet companion.
And wont it be fun?
Ill keep my head above water.
Im no farmers daughter.
No clinging vine.
Passing the match test and no one says thank you cuz theyre gone just as fast as a breeze.
Boom boom in the zoom zoom room.
Yeah, lets go boom.
Boom boom in the zoom zoom room.
Ah, lets go, lets go boom boom in the zoom zoom room.
song performed by by Blondie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Vine
I dreamed this mortal part of mine
Was metamorphosed to a vine,
Which, crawling one and every way,
Enthralled my dainty Lucia.
Methought, her long small legs and thighs
I with my tendrils did surprise:
Her belley, buttocks, and her waist
By my soft nervelets were embraced
About her head I writhing hung
And with rich clusters (hid Amoung
The leaves) her temples i behung,
So that my Lucia seemed to me
Young Bacchus ravished by his tree.
My curls about her neck did crawl,
ANd arms and hands they did enthrall,
So that she could not freely stir
( All parts there made one prisoner).
But when I crept with leaves to hide
Those parts which maids keep unespied,
Such fleeting pleasures there I took
That with the fancy i awoke,
And found (ah me!) this flesh of mine
More like a stock than like a vine.
poem by Robert Herrick
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Corona
the water on the pail
has overflowed
now you must feel
the coldness too
the rain will be heavy
and it will fall for nights and
days and the road will be
flooded again
this time no child will play
boat in the water
women with black umbrellas
will pass on the streets as
though nothing happened
life is like that
even the vine with nice flowers
are pruned
the trellis sometimes do not
want any tendrils
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Encounter
Those who have touched it or been touched by it
Or brushed by something that the vine has brushed,
Or burning it, have stood where the sly smoke
Has touched them-Know the meaning of its name.
The leaf is smooth. Its green is innocence.
A clean, unblemished leaf, glossy when young.
A leaf the unobserving might overlook
And the observing find too prosperous.
I've seen a vine of it so old and crooked
It held a hen-coop in its grip, the stalk
Thick as a man's wrist. There it had grown,
Half out of sight, permitted, undisturbed.
Strangers to it, who on a autumn road
Have found a vine that swept a tree like fire
And gathered it barehanded and brought it home
For color, seldom gathered it again.
Some are immune and some have thought they were
And some, ever so cautiously with gloves,
Finding that it grew to near their homes,
Have tried to root it out and have succeeded
Except that something from the vine fastened
Upon their flesh and burned, and in a year
Or two the vine itself was there again,
Glossy and green and smooth and innocent.
My neighbor's cow grazing beside the road
Munches with joy (and almost with a smile)
The salad of its leaves, transmuting them
Into sweet milk that I will drink tomorrow.
poem by Robert Francis
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Be-ing
for as long as there is still a sigh left
there is always that possibility for the scream
or if you don't
you shall choose the silence of the seed
another night
of waiting and soon you will see the tendrils of light sprouting
it is a new day, it is the promise of be-ing.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Alive, Alive
at dawn sleep left without a word
my back curves and my arms look for something to hold
to grip what is there before me
my fingers shake and holds the keys
of the computer
they all begin to scribble words
to assure my being
that i am a tree with roots
a vine with tendrils
an earth still blessed with a sun
and winds and breeze
i sweat and look around
i stand still beside a window
i open the eye of the world before me
and said to myself
everything is alive
to include me.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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