Do Not Rest On The Laurels Of Your Head
we get old
the laurels mean no more
they become irritants
to the lines in our forehead
we finally let go
of these decors
we take the chances of
negating fame
embracing the privacy
of the walk
beside the hills
feeling the stones on our bare feet
touching the winds
and listening to its roars
wading to the waters
getting wet
and then take the much missed
plunge
we wish we are gone somewhere
to places
where no one finds us
where we look at no shadows
we stare
at the sunset
and then find the silence of
the coming darkness
perhaps the moon shall be full
perhaps the stars will gather in magnificence
perhaps we can love again
loneliness like the grass that we cannot uproot
amidst the daisies
they become part of us
they become us
in love and tolerance
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Love Song To The Coming Morning
I'm like night in the sunset
Feeling red clouds in the sky
Wind in the trees full of breeze
Swirling up leaves so they fly
Meadows and hills shades in blue
Flowers in silver and gold
Darkness comes so untrue
Fairies in the moonlight hard to hold
Magical moments in twilight
Breaking off silences with a song
Leaving the day coming to night
Shadows are still though young
I'm like night in the sunset
Touching the moments that go
Into umbrage of absurdities
That lived in the day a while ago
Lilies and fields are in darkness
Moon is behind a blue cloud
Day shall wake up in dawn fresh
When dusky shadows are disallowed
poem by Peter S. Quinn
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My Idea Of A Good Day
There will be no sleep
The pains of hunger
The searing burn of thirst
Discomfort
But not discontentment
A feeling of loneliness amongst the overwhelming presence
A feeling of depression amidst the joy
A feeling of chaos amidst the peace
A feeling of confusion amidst the wisdom
A feeling of dejection amidst the love
There will be success
The delights of a feast
The coolness of an iced drink
Contentment
Complacency
A feeling of completion amidst inner brokenness
A feeling of happiness amidst inner death
A feeling of peacefulness amidst inner turmoil
A feeling of wisdom amidst inner misunderstanding
A feeling of camaraderie amidst an inner and overwhelming loneliness
Here's a hint, my idea of a good day isn't based on feelings.
poem by David Knox
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In The Middle Of The Crowd
in the middle of the crowd
where there is so much noise
all mouths talking
with no one listening
all arms and hands
moving and shouting
and all feet walking to
and fro like grandfather's
clock's mechanical pendulum
when the world seems to be
crowded not just with people
but with words
dishonest words and other
things that we do not really mean
why not try the silence of the stars
outside this crowd
on the grass, soft, soft grass
with the wind, cool cool winds
why not try the silence of the stars
under the sky
why not spend a little time with
the moon
let us try silence for a while
who knows
this world may still have peace
who knows
our overbeating hearts may
find its needed rest
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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I Shall Not Look For You
you are gone
and you leave no note on the bed
i stare outside this room
and sees a field of grass
shadows of mountains
and a sunset
i shall not look for you
i am confident that now you have finally found a home
deep inside yourself you shall sing
and knowing that at last you are happy with yourself
i, too shall move on, close the door and take the walk
on the other side of the fence
it is nighttime and there are stars in the sky
i lay myself on the cold grass and i do not shiver a bit.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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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
poem by Indigo Rosedragon
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48.........silence
........Silence is a sign of loneliness.
Solitude and silence teach me to love,
for what they are,
not for what they say or
what they have done.
See how nature - trees, flowers, grass - grows in silence;
see the stars, the moon and the sun,
how they move in silence...........
we need silence to be able to touch souls.
In the attitude of silence the soul finds the path in an clearer light,
and what is elusive and deceptive resolves itself into crystal clearness.
Our life is a long and arduous quest after Truth.
(13th november 2009)
poem by Fawzia Zie
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In a Boat
See the stars, love,
In the water much clearer and brighter
Than those above us, and whiter,
Like nenuphars.
Star-shadows shine, love,
How many stars in your bowl?
How many shadows in your soul,
Only mine, love, mine?
When I move the oars, love,
See how the stars are tossed,
Distorted, the brightest lost.
—So that bright one of yours, love.
The poor waters spill
The stars, waters broken, forsaken.
—The heavens are not shaken, you say, love,
Its stars stand still.
There, did you see
That spark fly up at us; even
Stars are not safe in heaven.
—What of yours, then, love, yours?
What then, love, if soon
Your light be tossed over a wave?
Will you count the darkness a grave,
And swoon, love, swoon?
poem by David Herbert Lawrence
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if you are on the same boat with me. Come.
as you read these lines
(let me tell you, there is nothing
significant, and i may advise you
to quit and may even ask
that you write your own
instead
it may be good for you
than continue to read
on the next line...
why not write
something about yourself and the
full moon and the lonely tree
that needs badly a
good company to pass the dark
night away)
why not just be
on your own,
solitude and self-introspection?
the secret journey to your heart
looking for
the place that is only for you
happiness, right?
eternal bliss, how about it?
you are curious about my boredom
the ennui of the century
perhaps you like to know how i deal
with the numbness of my being
every night every day
when slowly i die and feel so excited
about ending this ordeal and
how i cope with it
yes, the it.
this it. my it. this self....
attempting on
writing lines
whatever lines that come into my mind
words that try to please my senses
symbols that give me hope
figures of gods who may be able to say
something wise and
inspiring,
images. lots of images...
the image of the wind
on the wings of the seagulls
the colors changing on the horizon
like a swab of orange and red and black
or blood
or pastel green on the shadows of the hills
or the brightness of the sun when i stare at it and hurt my eyes
and then i close them
and see this world as all red
bursting red
like a sunset coming
and then fading away like a song
of a flute faraway
i wish i could stop writing
i wish that i could get a nice sleep
a restive mind
a peaceful state
a harmony of all my sense
up and down
but nothing seems to work right for me
i tried to sing the songs of love
but my ears say
liar! you do not have love in your heart
you do not know the feeling anymore
i tried drawing my thoughts and putting bright colors
on the images of green fields and blues skies
and stars and even seven moons of the other planets
but always they end up so displeasing
i am looking for the meaning of my life and if you are
on the same boat with me
then come and take the ride
on the stormy sea
no lamplight
no island to land
no north star to guide us
i ask you to quit reading but you are just like me
hardheaded human being insisting that there is meaning to all these
and the inability to stop
and be a quitter
quieter, i mean.
hopefully.
in the silence of the cat's feet
cautiously catching another prey
let me stop now. quit me.
Look at the sky. Do you see stars?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Where Is The Love?
where is the love?
you ask me when i kiss you
you doubt the warmth of my lips
the truthfulness of my arms
the civility of my fingers
the trustworthiness of my hands
where is the love?
you look into my eyes
like you are a woman swimming in my river
you feel the coldness of my waters
the silence of my stones
the calmness of my sands
the coyness of my fish and snails
where is the love?
you ask me
you find the lotus without a flower
you find the driftwood on the water
my love, try finding love in the sky above
do you see love in the sun?
do you feel love with the moon?
do you hear the love from the tiny stars?
tell me.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Deep In The Middle Of The Night And Beyond
deep in the middle of the night
and even beyond
this darkness
in my solitude
below the stars and the
full moon
i sit in the form of the lotus-god
praying
there is this silence
contained in the circles
of divinity
this is the throne of the ear
the bed of the mind
this bridge
between God and Myself
the strong silence amidst
all the noise
the glitter
amidst this cacophony
of a tarnished
silver
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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On Burning Coals
Loneliness of non-being and,
reality, fill up the vessel.
I search for the eloquence while,
emptiness will be my forte.
Countless words are crossing
like a promise in milk-white days
I gather sunlight through grass leaves.
Life had been full of shadows,
lengthening, penetrating
the tapestry of love.
The descent was steep.
Coming home I found
no humming words.
Sitting in dark
I wait for shooting stars.
Measuring the blood, drawn from our hurts
was a royal reward
for your fingers.
You are allowed to compare blood
with brown coffee.
Sand in our eyes,
we walked bare-foot
on burning coals.
poem by Satish Verma
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Playing In The Dark Beside The Full Moon
it is dark,
the full moon arrives
hovering upon the marshes
the waters become one
golden sheen rippling as the
shadows of birds
lay on the floating lilies
a wooden hushes
it is wading as
the young man paddles silently
on the water
the woman below him
sings a beautiful love song
it is time to play.
it is dark and the moon is full tonight.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Early Works - Near The Close Of Day
The crimson sunset breezes
dawn lines across the water
as dinghies nudge their moorings
in the quiet of the evening.
We sit in stillness on a hillside
the world beneath our feet
a closing day before us
seems all within our reach.
The last forays of gulls,
across the quiet waters
way beneath our feet,
as time stand still around us.
The creatures of the daylight
find a place to sleep
we watch the beauty before us
change moment to moment.
Shadows creep across the landscape
near the closing of the day
soon night will be upon us
and the moon will send shafts of silver.
Across the stilled waters of our little bay,
we will retire to ours beds
and wait for the coming day
whose sunshine again
will warm the ground.
21 July 1995
poem by David Harris
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Daisy Time
See, the grass is full of stars,
Fallen in their brightness;
Hearts they have of shining gold,
Rays of shining whiteness.
Buttercups have honeyed hearts,
Bees they love the clover,
But I love the daisies' dance
All the meadow over.
Blow, O blow, you happy winds,
Singing summer's praises,
Up the field and down the field
A-dancing with the daisies.
poem by Marjorie Lowry Christie Pickthall
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Our Own Dance....
in the darkness of our
nights
we shall dance
my love
just the two of us
and our shadows
that the moon so full
shall fill with delight
our music is our silence
oh, many shall join us
in this merriment
the sands of the shores
the leaves of the coconut trees
the winds of the horizon
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Come With Me To The Edge Of The World
Come with me to the edge of the world,
Let's go there where sunset is touching the horizon,
Where is only silence and peace,
There is a place just for us, for you and me.
Far away from people, far away from crowd,
We are running to find a place for our hearts,
Where is only sky above us to share with it our dreams,
Where is only peace and harmony.
The night was coming, such a silent night,
Only your arms and wind were wrapping me,
Only your whispers and seagulls were my music,
Only your heart was belonging to me.
The sea is touching our feet laying on the sand,
Only seagulls are screaming crossing the sky,
Making aware us this is not a dream,
Is reality of our lives, another page in the book of life.
There is a place just for us, for you and me,
Where is only silence and peace,
Let's go there where sunset is touching the horizon,
Come with me to the edge of the world.
poem by Cristina Teodor
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So Many Stars
Maybe I didn't love you
As I turn onto Union Square
Maybe I didn't love you
As I slip my token into the turnstile
Maybe I only need to think about the past
You can understand
As I wedge myself between two boom-box boys
On the A train
Maybe I don't love you now
As I check out a brand new stove
Walking by a kitchen-wares store on Lex
Maybe I just needed to love
Anyone at all
Maybe I won't ever love you again
As I walk into Manny's for some strings
Maybe we won't ever be friends
Could I have needed to love the dark
As I try to avoid a jakey on Broome
Could I have conjured you
On imaginary avenues
Well maybe I need to merge with the all
As I stare at the sunset over the Hudson
And there you'd become one of
So many stars
What if I couldn't tell you apart
What if I couldn't pick out your face
What if I didn't love you
Didn't love you
There are so many stars
What if I couldn't pick out your face
Or find your hands
There are so many stars
What if I didn't love you
But what if I do
How will I know
What will you do
When I find you
There are so many stars
What if you're out there
And I just didn't see you
I could lose you just like that
Maybe forever
There are so many stars
So many stars
There are so many stars
There are so many stars
song performed by by Carly Simon
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Broken Shadows
Lament for disillusioned youth,
Take a little time to gather your breathe,
Restless, still we evoke the moon
To follow in our stride
Running backwards out of time,
To find a place Ill call my own.
So hard to find your peace,
When yourlost this far from home.
The tempest clouds cast broken shadows
Over the gathered crowds as silence hangs so heavy in the air
To look back now, you’d be pushed to know you were ever there at all.
Drift on down the river of existence,
Know all your knowing, show me the way for a while,
So I can rest my weary eyes,
Swallowing up the last rays of the dying sun.
You’re looking for love in all the wrong places,
Faking your smiles to all the wrong faces.
Time to change, to rearrange the mantle and the moon
Bare your wounds girl; I’ll find out soon enough
What it is that makes you bleed.
poem by David Lacey
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Sawdust Trail
Leave me alone
amidst the daisies.
I have come to talk
to a quivering dandelion.
I must see. I must
count the teeth of the tiger
who had stopped killing
the bucks, but-
there was death in the grass.
Cannot believe in
shadows moving behind the
moon. The space was
shrinking, and tongues were
very sharp, but -
there was death in the grass.
poem by Satish Verma
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I Come to Dwell In This Loneliness
I come to dwell in this loneliness.
It is my turn to do it as I wish!
I am not that far away from moonbeams,
And stars.
But right now I'd rather ponder my heart...
Where it is,
And who has a part!
I come to dwell in this loneliness.
Thinking of those I love...
And how much they are missed!
In a way I can only say,
As a poet can convey.
I come to dwell in this loneliness.
But torment and grief...
Is not what I am here treating!
I am remembering them,
With love that wont end!
I come to dwell in this loneliness.
It is my turn to do it as I wish!
And when I am finished,
I feel a burden lift!
Without agony relived...
Since I am aware,
Love is still there.
And for me I realize,
True love was shared!
I come to dwell in this loneliness.
And it's okay...
It does not stay.
Like the love that was known,
And remembered shown that way!
I come to dwell in this loneliness.
And when this period permits...
It will leave me lifted,
When it is done with its visit!
I come to dwell in this loneliness.
But not to hide...
Or become absorbed with it!
It is my turn to do it as I wish!
And when it departs,
It leaves a happiness in my heart!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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