Do Not Give Poetry A Bad Name
The frogs should not have croaked a lot
when everyone is fast asleep
Aristophanes after all is right
These frogs should not live like the Clouds.
On the other hand
THe Philosophers should cling to being
Philosophers
Stay with the embrace of Reason and Not
Embrace the Strong Arms of Emotions
For Emotions belong to nothing but the
Realm of Poetry
aH! Lysistrata shall now wage her own
War against the Men
Claiming as she does
Her sole right to Eroticism
Honestly, i still love to hear the frogs croaking
In the Pond
I for the meantime loves to Keep
The Philosophers dwell in their Own
Cloud Point of view.
If Lysistrata obliges
One night with Her would be enough
After which, I shall work hard to
Give Poetry its Own Right Name.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Related quotes
Complementary viewpoints for friend Chandra
Philosophy and poetry
are not completely different.
Each represents a way to see
What is not always evident.
Philosophers and poets try
to understand the universe.
The answers which they can supply.
Expressed in turgid prose or verse.
Philosophers can be abstruse
and difficult to understand
Because of how they phrase their views.
I don’t dismiss them out of hand.
I much prefer the poets verse
To endless reams of complex prose.
I do not think I am perverse
Simplicity I must suppose.
Is really what appeals to me.
the poets seek to entertain
and yet express with clarity.
Philosophers try to explain.
Their reasoning in great detail.
They just succeed in boring me
Their efforts are to no avail
I will admit quite openly
I simply cannot spare the time
To plough through densely written prose.
But I find poetry sublime
I like the way it ebbs and flows.
The insight that a poet shows
can entertain and educate.
Philosophers try to impose
their views, discouraging debate.
Which does not sit too well with me.
Folks can’t stand being patronised
and will rebel instinctively.
A fact that poets recognise.
They are content to share their thoughts.
With anyone who chooses to
read the verses they have wrought.
Which may express a different view
To that of the philosophers.
You draw your own conclusions
and choose which version you prefer.
Perhaps your own opinions.
Philosophy and poetry
Are both legitimate attempts
To explain some mystery
By folks of different temperaments.
22/08/2009
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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The Sound Of The Rain
do not mislead me with the
point-of-view of the frog
you croak and you say this
is how something beautiful
sounds, how ugliness feigns
i tell you i like the rain and
the frog likes it too, i am
one of those frogs bathing
and jumping on the pond,
but do not mislead me with
your sound, it does not sound
like the hush of the wind,
it has no color of the moon,
i am one of the frogs of this
pond, but i do not wish to
sound like you: i am in love
with the sound of the rain,
and this is the one that makes
me stay. It is not you, your
sound is not gentle, it is
rough like the skin of the
teething toad. I love the
rain, the way it sounds,
and that is enough
for my suffering.
Dripping.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Philosophers Stone
Out on the highways and the by-ways all alone
Im still searching for, searching for my home
Up in the morning, up in the morning out on the road
And my head is aching and my hands are cold
And Im looking for the silver lining, silver lining in the clouds
And Im searching for and
Im searching for the philosophers stone
And its a hard road, its a hard road daddy-o
When my job is turning lead into gold
He was born in the back street, born in the back street jelly roll
Im on the road again and Im searching for
The philosophers stone
Can you hear that engine
Woe can you hear that engine drone
Well Im on the road again and Im searching for
Searching for the philosophers stone
Up in the morning, up in the morning
When the streets are white with snow
Its a hard road, its a hard road daddy-o
Up in the morning, up in the morning
Out on the job
Well youve got me searching for
Searching for, the philosophers stone
Even my best friends, even my best friends they dont know
That my job is turning lead into gold
When you hear that engine, when you hear that engine drone
Im on the road again and Im searching for the philosophers stone
Its a hard road even my best friends they dont know
And Im searching for, searching for the philosophers stone
song performed by by Van Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Lysistrata
Lysistrata, open up the bedroom door
What is the matter, aint you in love with me no more?
I enlisted in the army today,
One more time before I march away
Make me feel like a big strong man
You say you dont care about my pride,
You love me too much just to let me die,
And you wont let me come inside
Unless I dont go to war no more
Lysistrata, little boys like to have their fun,
And you know I gotta put on my colors and get my gun
Every able bodied man that I know,
Every patriot is packed to go
Wont you give me a last goodbye
Ill be sent off to a distant land,
To spill my blood upon some foreign sand,
And I may die by an enemys hand
And then I wont go to war no more
Send the boys all back to the farm
Tell the troops it was a false alarm,
cause if I die I want to be in your arms,
And so I wont go to war, no I wont go to war,
Said I wont go to war no more
song performed by by Utopia
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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To The Frog Clan
This shall be the symbol of my clan
The slime of my ancestors
For those whose claim for life and prosperity
Is as prolonged as the length of the list found in the clan’s tree
This frog is your frog
It is part of the multitude
Taking the power of the ten rivers
Its croaking
Is the uproar against the loudest blur of the reigning rains
You are the frog like us
From water to land to grasses to marshes to trenches
Of this earth
We shall remain as the true descendants of the great frog
By our nature
We shall not go hungry
By the power of the longest tongue
By the secret poisons of our skins
By our rounded views
By our slime
By the strong clinging of our ties
We shall all be saved
From the great flood
May our dead ancestors
May the great frogs
Lead us to the most secure pond of our future lives
And may the frog in us
Give us the great leap
The great jump
Taking us to our dream
Our clear cool waters
Teeming with mashing marshes
And there
Dear loving frogs of this clan
Let all our croaking be one.
Let all our croaking be true.
Let our croaking be love.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Law And Poetry
black and white like the point of view of
the cat is the law
hard to deal with
hair splitting and building
fences and trenches
keeping some enemies out
and friends in
keeping the nets catch the smaller one
but letting the sharks go
that is the first law
poetry: it is the hues of rainbow after the rain
flowers that bloom without much explanation
the sounds of her steps wading in the water
kisses without the penalties
making love without the risks of getting inside
some prison walls
the one that makes us so light as clouds and feathers
makes our hearts dance the ballet and do the triple twists and turns
in mid air
the music to our soul
the liberation of our bound spirits
the singing birds and cicadas in symphony
the frogs croaking
celebrating the first long rainy night ahead of me.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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When philosophers try to be politicians they generally cease to be philosophers.
quote by Walter Lippmann
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Philosophers are very severe towards other philosophers because they expect too much.
quote by George Santayana
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A toad
why cry all alone?
get out and meet somebody
the frogs are croaking
for companion, why arent you?
get out, and get to know somebody
anybody is better than nobody
even a toad waddling in the pond
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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The scientists often have more unfettered imaginations than current philosophers do. Relativity theory came as a complete surprise to philosophers, and so did quantum mechanics, and so did other things.
quote by Robert Nozick
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Apple for a prince
Nice apples can be red and often green
and sometimes something in between
Frogs are nearly always green
Soon you'll see what I mean
I took a bite and now the worse
as this apple had a curse
Im now a frog with little chance
of finding my desired romance
Sunlight came and sunlight go
Poor frog doesnt know
To lift the curse he needs a kiss
Can a princess take a risk
Ill try and reach her from the ground
Maybe she'll hear my croaking sound
Please be kind to frogs you see
As the one you spot may be me
poem by Alan Draper
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P.
in the same manner
i never expect you to take me
to you,
lighten my load
and please me
with your ways
swan-like and
peacock colors
there is the solitude of
your pond
the pale blue in your
clouds
there is the reality
of the croaking of your
frogs
the imaginary place
has welcomed me
like i am a part of you
since
no regrets i take
you as you take me
in this marriage
of our arts.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Poetry! Poetry! Poetry!
Poetry! Yes!
P. The Purple
P. The Pink
Poetry! Be a mix of emotions,
Poetry! The different kinds of expressions,
Poetry! The different kinds of experiments
Poetry! The Corners of exploration
Yes! Yes! Yes!
The Vague Of Emphasise.
Though be the same thoughts and emotions, he solves the different vexed questions of equations
Poetry! My blue sky!
Poetry! My brown skin
Poetry! My White clown
Poetry! My green grass
Yes! Yes! Yes!
Expressed and impressed,
applied and implied
thrown and blown
pen with a book,
a vein of a blood
Poetry! the visions of missions,
build in all kinds of potions,
Poetry! the zeal of joy,
it being in zone
I Learn!
I Observe
I Like
But! I Love!
poem by Anele ''The African Son'' kaPotelwa
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My reason's why poetry is never devilish,
My reasons why poetry is never devilish,
My reason is that poetry made me realise knowledge of Imagination,
It is from the pleasure that express Human emotions,
If Man is from God then poetry is from man,
A man is a Spiritual being,
Existing with Infinite Knowledge,
Poetry is not supporting felonies,
Either way the great Prophet's recognised poetry,
Poetry can take away Indifference,
Create a spiritual man into Beauty of the soul,
My reason is that felonies is worser than writing a poem,
Fornication and gossip is much distinguished from Angelic Realm,
I think that Poetry hast better explanation,
In a World that is very Shallow in Spiritual Knowledge.
poem by Abdul Karim
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Its Croaking Shows Its Presence! !
The croaking echoes through the neighborhood,
the blasting croaking echoes as braying,
sometimes as barking, another time as whistling,
the sounds of croaking may crack our heads,
in the tropical region where it rains,
every other day and musical begins,
with the mono syllabic cricket,
house lizards join them occasionally,
The frogs repeats one day and one night,
as the Native American folklore says,
brother sun agreed and the bear hibernated,
the frogs repeat one day and one night,
it may not be alive the next day,
unnecessary croaking,
is being heard by something,
that slithers and hungry,
its croaking showed its presence,
right to the mouth of that reptile.
In the middle of the meetings,
some of us croak to show our presence,
Croak the wrong information,
out of our peanut brains,
sometimes we croak in the viva verse,
mostly something the invigilators unaware,
fail us then and there,
keeping quiet, sometimes good,
people assume that we know many things,
Politicians croak,
clergies croak,
our teachers croak,
our parents croak,
our children croak,
you and I croak,
our nature make us to croak,
most of the times we get caught,
because we croak a lot.
poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
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Tonight, Tonight, Another Love Another Promise
i have given you the key to my room
but despite that
i have decided to leave the door open
despite the danger
that thieves instead of you my secret love
shall come in...
there will be fears that sooner i may fall asleep
without you
but the anticipation is greater
the beating of my heart even louder
than the sounds of the rain and the croaking of the
twenty frogs combined
tonight yes tonight my love
shall be another tryst with you
i am waiting
naked to the truth of my being
that love is not confined
within the chains of
fidelity that love's essence is its variety
a multiplicity of desire
a showering rain of affections
a flood of kindness and sharing
unhindered by any code
of marriage
unbound by the chains of
the cruelty of the law...
tonight my love
i shall live another nine lives
in the heat of your embrace.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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On Clear Pond
ON a clear pond
not far away from the house
there live two
frogs
who blend well in their
croaking
during the rainy season
contented on a lotus leaf
for a home
and few moths,
bugs and
flies for their
meals
they are happier on this
simple terms
together
there is no marriage
for them to
boast
but it is still death
that does them part
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Episode
We walk by the sea-shore
holding firmly in our hands
the two ends of an antique dialogue
—do you love me?
—I love you
with furrowed eyebrows
I summarize all wisdom
of the two testaments
astrologers prophets
philosophers of the gardens
and cloistered philosophers
and it sounds about like this:
—don’t cry
—be brave
—look how everybody
you pout your lips and say
—you should be a clergyman
and fed up you walk off
nobody loves moralists
what should I say on the shore of
a small dead sea
slowly the water fills
the shapes of feet which have vanished
poem by Zbigniew Herbert
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Frogs in Love
The bogs are damp with almost too much rain -
By night, the frogs have returned once again,
For November; it is the time they mate,
But why O why our backyard populate?
Perhaps they feel it's romantic: the smoke,
The chill, the wet; relentlessly they croak!
Dear God! Why let the bogs with tall grass grow?
Or teach a colony of frogs to Love?
poem by Dinesh Sairam
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There will be no end to the troubles of states, or of humanity itself, till philosophers become kings in this world, or till those we now call kings and rulers really and truly become philosophers, and political power and philosophy thus come into the same hands.