Do I Love You?
when you enter this room
you will meet us
you look at our faces
wearing different masks
when you smell us
as though we are dogs
you will be confused
we anticipated that
scents interchanged and
manners well studied
each gesture is mastered
switching hands
you try the way we sound
listening carefully
we anticipated that too
we have exchanged our tongues
not to be outwitted
you listen to the beatings of our heart
you heard it, and perhaps
now you have known the truth
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Related quotes
Whirlwords
when you enter this room
you will meet us
you look at our faces
wearing different masks
when you smell us
you begin to think of dog's hair
you will be confused like a swirling door
we anticipated that from the beginning
scents interchange and
manners well studied get unpredicted
each gesture is mastered but
switching hands become a habit
you try the way we sound like moooo
listening carefully we waver for another idea
we anticipated that too
we have exchanged our tongues for some lips
not to be outwitted
you listen to the beatings of our hearts like native drums
you have heard everything from 'asshole' to 'zezbomba! '
now you have known me but who knows if
i have filled myself like a hot balloon
and then i am no longer there except the grass and the heat
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Freelanced Delusions
Trite expressions exchanged,
Are as satisfying as scheduled rehearsals...
For an anticipated wedding,
That has no performance date to occur.
Or a sermon heard that is preached,
About the evils of sin.
And the evils of sin are taught to teach,
Over and over again.
A repetition done dawns on the listener,
With a purpose served...
That becomes less effective.
And affects discouragement.
Why can't folks just be upfront?
And be for real.
Instead of killing time...
To appeal to one's mind.
Why can't folks just be upfront?
And confront the truth.
Instead of diluting it...
To soothe with freelanced delusions.
Trite expressions exchanged,
Are as satisfying as scheduled rehearsals...
For an anticipated wedding,
That has no performance date to occur.
Or a sermon heard that is preached,
About the evils of sin.
And the evils of sin are taught to teach,
Over and over again.
Why can't folks just be upfront?
And be for real.
Instead of killing time...
To appeal to one's mind.
And why can't folks just be upfront?
With a confronting of the truth.
Instead of diluting it,
To soothe with freelanced delusions.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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What we could have had
If you only knew, that I, ‘Oh of course, you heard it over the news, though I would have preferred it personal heard a lil’ bird beat me to it, so you overheard.
I was over my head; I was over the hurt, when you appeared, Unannounced, without a heart’s pound, without a sound…
Why did you come around when you knew I was about to ask you out? I had said it out loud, that I needed you around, so you must have found out. It was never supposed to come out, but knowing your crowd they must’ve announced.
But on my account, I would’ve loved you hadn’t you found out, that I was in love (with another heart) . It would’ve been nice…
You know I thought twice whilst listening to advice from a guy less wise, so I anticipated my lies to be true for you.’ Cause when I think, I Only Love You.
poem by Thato Maluleka
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You Come This Morning And Touch My Weakness
you two come this morning
searching the secret place in my body where my weakness lies
you gaze at me, like both of you are siamese twins
you scan my skin, you listen carefully to the beatings of my heart
you move your nose trying to figure out the smell
of that secret place
you frisk me, you strangle my hair hoping to find the secret
between the locks of my hair
on top of my forehead and behind the skull covered with
thick skin,
you try so hard to find what i am
what you find is what i am not because your hearts are hardened
by what you are not, in all the years that we have parted
i also listen to the beatings of your hearts
and in there there is no more sound of compassion
this time you must leave, i am locking my door.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Diabolick!
(Byron's governess, May Gray, would come to bed with him at night
and 'play tricks with his person'. According to Byron, this 'caused
the anticipated melancholy of my thoughts—having anticipated life') .
I lay awake, most every night,
Tucked in my bed at Aberdeen,
And waited for that footstep light,
My Governess, my Demon Queen.
I was but nine, or ten at most
When she climbed underneath my sheet,
I heard her breathing in my head
Her hands, ice cold about my feet.
And she would whisper soft to me
Would play strange tricks to rouse me there,
My teeth would chatter in my sleep,
Across my face, her perfumed hair.
Her lips were red, would seek my mouth
And I would gasp to catch each breath,
While she would threaten, 'make no sound,
Or you may seek the shades of death! '
Then she would mount, and raise her gown
And smother me beneath her sex,
While I would, desperate, look around
No Saviour came, no God protects!
My mother's alcoholic breath
Lay snoring in her favourite chair,
She called me lame, a little brat,
I saw no mother's instinct there.
The Governess, May Gray abused,
And beat me almost every day,
What chance had I to live and love
With women, in the normal way?
I lived, anticipated life
Before that I was even ten,
And so I rated womankind,
I loved and cursed them, even then.
So judge me not! My life was filled
With scandals that re-crossed my path,
And Caroline was most unkind
When she composed my epitaph.
She wrote the words you know me by
Once I had sought to let her go,
She sat in silence, scrawled the words,
'Mad, bad, and dangerous to know! '
30 May 2010
poem by David Lewis Paget
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Where Have Gone Those Masks?
Where have they gone?
All those masks of the past!
Many masks hiding faces of the ones clever.
One was of love pure,
Another was of friendship innocent
And another was of care entwining.
Those masks had a power
That mesmerised the weak minds for some time.
Where are those masks?
No one sells them as the marketeers
Don`t have much to fill the wallet
From these little transparent masks now.
Masked faces have faded out from amidst us all
And there walk many without faces at all!
The poet himself has none.
poem by M.d Dinesh Nair
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Eyes Open Have the Ability to See Through Concrete
Too much of it had been ignored.
And now a game played to catch up,
With reality is in full force...
By those seeking rules and regulations.
With something to limit full exposure,
That is easy to document and follow.
But truth and reality are not substitutes,
To be interchanged, exchanged or arranged by delusion.
Lies...yes!
Some perfected.
Deceit...yes!
Sometimes rejected.
But seldom suspected for what it is.
Charades and masquerades...
May be acceptable behind masks.
Truth pursued is strategic free.
And that task uncomfortable...
For the ones assigned to assist those blind!
And anyone who has been introduced to reality,
Becomes immediately aware of its focus.
Nothing about it is hidden behind veils!
Eyes open have the ability to see through concrete.
With penetrating results.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Stature of Truth
Watch them closely.
Your greater life depends on this.
See their bodies, watch their faces,
listen to their sound, which is
now the sound that we all own.
Now see your self, seeing them;
watch your self, watching them;
listen to your self, listening
to yourself. This is the moment
grace graces us. Our grace.
This shelf-stacker with
a battered face; this
village lady with a homely build;
this child, who, simply, sings
as if that could not be more natural:
see them; watch them; listen to the sound.
See them in profile: nobility
now shapes their face;
this is what heroes are,
heroes who await our call.
They have surrendered to their self;
was it we who called them?
Are there times when truth itself
is impatient of release; cannot wait
for us to earn that?
Perhaps just a few bars, as the song
begins to take them over,
sings, them; perhaps the climax of the song,
when all we can do is wildly clap,
applaud ourselves for what they’ve told us
that we always knew: we too, heroes,
heroines, waiting for the call
to be ourselves:
for a few bars, their stature
is beyond measure; remind yourself,
you saw it, watched them, listened:
listened to the sound which says
this, my sound, is the sound
that can do anything. anything:
now I make the world anew.
For a few bars, they tell us
this, this is who we are,
every one of us; this is
what talent’s given for; this,
what we were made for;
this is how great we are.
This is the sound of truth
singing the truth of truth itself;
this is what grace can do.
This is who we are.
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Tiny Demons
One of them plays a piccolo in my ear
Another one makes me smell things that arent there
And they know where to hide
And they know everything thats inside
Of my head
Tiny demons, inside me
One of them ties a lasso around my heart
Another makes me nod when I drive the car
And they wont ever leave
But they wont show their faces to me
And they wait til I feel
Like theyre gone and they jump out and steal
My relief
Tiny demons, inside me
Listen, listen
Listen for the sound
That is not in the music
Only you can hear it,
Only you can use it
Its the sound of someone breathing,
Its the breath of life
Its the sound that you are weaving
With the thread of life
Listen, listen
Listen to the sound,
Let nothing disturb you
You are in a place
Where nothing can hurt you
If you feel a strange sensation,
It can do no harm
Like the spiral of creation,
It will soon move on
song performed by by Todd Rundgren
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I'd heard a lot of Asian people were rooting for me, but I had no idea. I was stunned. They were... impassioned, especially compared to Japan. I couldn't even have anticipated that kind of welcome.
quote by Ayumi Hamasaki
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Sounds, Within And Without
have you ever listened
to the sounds of
a young boy praying
after his father and mother
have split up
have you heard the sound
a small animal makes when
it's hit by a car?
kinda like the sound a child makes
when it's split open by friendly fire!
have you felt the deep down
sound the young boy makes
when the judge sentences him
to hard time
the sound you cant see on his face
have you heard the sound
of the old man's heart
fighting to hold on
in an empty room
with the curtains pulled
have you ever heard the sound
of the wolf's howl, and
the hawk's scree
buried deep beneath
the layers that cover
your own wildness
are you listening
poem by Eric Cockrell
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The Virtue Of Self-reliance....
i wait for no one
and no one waits for me
copy: i am an island
i touch no one and no one touches me
does this sound like poetry at all?
does this sound like an existential angst of one who wants to hold on the hooks of words
fished out from the confused waters?
for one, i haven't heard the cries for help
there is only the sound of feet and hands flapping like the fins of a fish
as though
someone is short of breath
and about to die
i like this,
this way to the door of the music room
sitting on a bench
facing a piano
as i begin to press and let my fingers travel distances
each note
takes me to nowhere, relying only on the sound of its longing
no destination, no purpose
ah, like a cocoon hanging on a leaf
merely passing the time away
without the dream of a butterfly
inside its darkness
ah, everything blooms,
everything opens
let us see how can this happen to me
watch me as i too watch you
this must be life then, surprises all surprises
how can boredom be so real?
how can jejune be June?
what about the numerical ennui on the month of May?
listen, listen
drink the silence
savor this inner peace
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Brain Constipation
Somebody hear me, somebody listen to me
Am I alone in this world
Is there anyone listening?
Appease me, cant find a reason to be
Alienation, is taking over me
Im going away, cant go on any longer
I really dont know why I just gotta die
I never thought this was how it would end
The body swinging,
I see it over and over again
Vanian singing, can I ever listen to it again?
A cry for attention was a cry never heard
With no one listening,
There was nothing to be heard
Nothing to be heard
song performed by by NOFX
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Old World New World
Natives wearing turquoise and silver
Dirty dogs barking in the distance
People of a thousand tongues
Im learning the primitive rights
Im doing as the romans do
Mt. kalais to mt. everest
Then down to the river ganges
To follow your mighty past
Were learning the primitive rights
Were doing as the romans do
Old world
New world
I know nothing
But Ill keep listening
Cities tumble into the ocean
Cities getting built in the sky
Now were talking digital
Were learning the primitive rights
Were doing as the romans do
Millions playing at monopoly
Rolling the dice of their life
Im dancing and shaking hands
Were learning the primitive rights
Were doing as the romans do
I know nothing
Grow old look wise
Never knowing til I die
But Ill keep listening
Ill keep listening
Pan
Shambala
Judism
Hindu
Christianity
Masdic
Budism
Atman of vedies
Sun ra
Astrology
Voodoo
The great dream time
song performed by by INXS
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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You Cant Hide...
grey face ghouls
dressed in suits,
tongues ripped out,
human skin boots.
thought marines,
black cloud guns.
you cant hide,
and you cant run.
babies taken,
sons in prison.
wearing masks,
violent 'Christians'.
ignorance drugs,
prejudice and hate.
you can barely stand
beneath the weight.
white men, black men,
all men inside.
same needs, same wants,
dont believe the lie.
fists to hands,
hands to hearts.
only takes one candle
to light the dark!
when you cant be free,
they give you rules.
when you cant see the truth,
they make you fools.
when you cant speak your mind,
your mind is closed.
when no one dares,
then no one knows!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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In That Common Room Where You Are No Longer Alone
your eyes are open
as you are fully alive when you go
back to that old house
by the river
named after
sin,
you open the door
your hands are too willing
and you enter
a dusty room
where you shall be alone
for a while
you smell sin there
and you
get to know it better
beyond its name and
place of origin
you identify with it
and there is no fear now
you talk for a while
and then
it urges you to go naked
and close your eyes
to enter upon
a world where everyone is
welcome
you drink and dance and
become tipsy
lights begin to play
and shouts of joy are heard
in this totally
transformed world
you are not alone now
in this indulgence
you have become counted
without
any hesitation
your mind explodes into
four seasons
compressed in time
and the guarantee of
total satisfaction is handed to you
like a key to
your permanent room
since then
you are so alive
and death has become
too irrelevant
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Wearing White
Phones were ringing, tongues were wagging
Hot gossip was flying
All around town
She heard the talk, the lowdown was
The shameless color of
Her wedding gown
It's white
I mean really who's she trying to kid
Everybody knows the things she did
It just isn't right
Won't that be a sight
To see her wearing white
She was wild, a wayward child
To put it mildly
She made her life a mess
But she was young, the past is done
Now she's in love
And putting on a new dress
It's white
And it's nobody's business what she wears
Anyway the truth is she don't care
Baby it's her life
She'll do what she likes
And she likes wearing white
He's all nerves when he sees her
As far as he's concerned
She's an angel
In white
He just can't believe that she is his
What a crazy miracle this is
Who she was he don't mind
'Cause on their wedding night
She'll be wearing white
She'll be wearing white
She'll be wearing white
song performed by by Martina Mcbride
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Surrender
Ive never felt this way before
Theres nothing else I could want more
Than something real, only passion can reveal
With body and soul, Im used to controlling
Every, everything
Now, I can let go, let down my guard
And well see how far this love can go
Chorus:
I surrender my heart, Im giving up
And I dont wanna fight, I just wanna love
I surrender it all, Im giving in
To the power of love - surrender
This feels too god, cant bring me down
Feels like I could never touch the ground
And how Ive waited, truer love anticipated
With body and mind, I know that theres time
For every, everything
Now I can let go, let down my guard
And how Ive waited, truer love anticipated
Chorus
With body and soul, Im used to controlling
Every, everything
Now, I can let go, let down my guard
And well see how far this love can go
Chorus
Written by barry j. eastmond and seidah garrett
song performed by by Vanessa Williams
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Healing Part I
Listen, listen
Listen to the voice,
The voice is an illusion
Listen to the voice,
Dont let the words confuse you
cause you need something to concentrate on,
Concentrate on me
You need something to meditate on,
Meditate on me
Listen, listen
Listen to your heart
Tune into the rhythm
Listen to your heart
Beating with precision
Like the waves upon the seaside,
It goes on and on
Like the spinning of the world,
It goes on and on
Listen, listen
Listen for the sound
That is not in the music
Only you can hear it,
Only you can use it
Its the sound of someone breathing,
Its the breath of life
Its the sound that you are weaving
With the thread of life
Listen, listen
Listen to the sound,
Let nothing disturb you
You are in a place
Where nothing can hurt you
If you feel a strange sensation,
It can do no harm
Like the spiral of creation,
It will soon move on
song performed by by Todd Rundgren
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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