Early Morning Scenario
the frogs are singing
gratitude for the heavy rain last night
the pond has ripples
some fish jump with joy
the trees are tall and fresh
the rainbow appears
the grasses are still filled with dew
disturbed by a little bird that flew
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The River of Me
I launched myself on the river me
Way back when I was two or three
I sailed out through the wall of snow
Beneath the bridge where all kids go
That Cheyenne Bodie was ten feet tall
His voice so deep it filled a hall
And that was who I dreamed I’d be
Until Cochise came on the scene
There was ice on the river and ice on the pond
And the singing nun sang on and on
There were trees on the river bank, cliffs by the sea
And fish galore in the river of me
The fields were full of cows, corn or wheat
The air was thick with bees and heat
The summer lasted all year long
I never knew til it was gone
And then of course came that high school girl
Her glances made my river swirl
More complex than the universe
I never knew what she’d do next
There was light on the river and light on the pond
And the singing nun sang on and on
There were trees on the river bank, cliffs by the sea
And fish galore in the river of me
And up we soared towards the sky
Through songs and dancing by and by
My waterfalls and waves ran high
For just the winking of an eye
And in the distance the quiet sea
was waiting on the river me
And on the banks the weeds grew tall
Where rusting leaves began to fall
Now there’s night on the river and night on the pond
And the singing nun is long since gone
There are trees on the river bank, cliffs by the sea
And memories in the river of me
I launched myself on the river me
Way back when I was two or three
I sailed out through the wall of snow
Beneath the bridge where all kids go
In Priaise Of Idleness...
i sit on the stair
to see the world
to follow the flight of a bird
and appreciate the beauty of its song
in my imagination
i listen to the rain
observe its heavy downpour
i am passive
i do not run away
to chase a bird
i do not go out the house
and bathe under the rain
i do not destroy the
placement of the grasses on the lawn
i do not cut the stalk of the daisy
and bring it home
i hear the frogs croaking
excited to their games
jumping and swimming
on that greenish pool
i stay on the porch
lean upon a wall
i listen to the wind
i let the hours pass
i do nothing...
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Astonishing Forest
Where the house filled with living
The house continuously giving
Where the house filled with nature
The house filled with adventure
Anything can survive
With the nature it provides
Where the house filled with grass
The house filled with hedges, bushes and plants
Canopy trees be it rain or shine
Will be there for you at any time
Where the green house filled with fresh air
Will shelter you in the heavy rain
O the house of beauty
O the house of sound
So much variety is yet to be found
poem by Sehar Zaman
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About The Scissor
yes there was this scissor
on the window
one night looking at the moon
asking if
somewhere it can cut
the darkness
and allow so much light
to pass through
the covered walls
the bats flew feeding on
some rotten star-apples
the moon as usual sitting on the pond
seeing its reflection
undisturbed by the ripples of the fish
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Deserted Fields
seldom do you find this place
tall grasses on the fields
white herons feeding
upon the green frogs gallivanting
on the muddy pools
bluer skies fresh air
trees nested by sparrows
trails of men
there are no houses here
flowers on the pavement bloom
nobody comes here anymore
most of them have left for good for the city
where work is available
where money can be harvested
like fruits from concrete trees
from cemented fields
under the flicker of neon lights
from unfriendly people
i am here, at home, with all my silence.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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55
I went out early this morning to take a walk and see the world
At its unfolding, Skies grey and moving slowly away from light,
The dim lights, Pushing away dark clouds vice versa tugging each other Perhaps not wanting to part (Whatever happened last night? Nobody wants to recall)
Towards an edge on the right corner of the gym, Everything is shadowy (Like a dawn tryst In a tight room so foul
Filled with cheap perfume Beating warmth like Pink baby rats)
A black outline of coconut trees, Some houses appearing as smoke
Rising to the skies Like men smoking, Letting go off The sighs inside
their hearts
They are huge and keeps a chest full of Frogs wanting to jump
Into the pond, their dreams croak and croak
Throughout this hot summer Pleading to the white heronFor rain and more rain Lest they die
What arrived instead is the plow, Their territories cut into small pieces
And some will have no place to live, I am referring to the frogs
like men And the children Of the little space This pond drying itself
To death. The air is thin and sharp to the feel Of guts
Gathering the early dusts of the south bound road, And few raindrops
Fell on the chalky pathways some two or Three farm children running for cover,
I walk fast, trying to outrun The children, the frogs, the men,
And the shadowy coconut trees, Fast and faster still Like my thoughts running and running In circles Oval to this gym
The first ray is coming out From the edge of a grey cloud Pushed towards a darker side To my eyes Lights stab and light
With more light Gushing forth from the stomach
Of dawn.
Someone just performed The ritual of morning The birth Of another day, I walk past time And must go home on time
I have my lover for breakfast Waiting And some thoughts
Running and running thoughts wanting To stop.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The ritual of morning
I went out early this morning to take a walk and see the world
At its unfolding, Skies grey and moving slowly away from light,
The dim lights, Pushing away dark clouds vice versa tugging each other Perhaps not wanting to part (Whatever happened last night? Nobody wants to recall)
Towards an edge on the right corner of the gym, Everything is shadowy (Like a dawn tryst In a tight room so foul
Filled with cheap perfume Beating warmth like Pink baby rats)
A black outline of coconut trees, Some houses appearing as smoke
Rising to the skies Like men smoking, Letting go off The sighs inside
their hearts
They are huge and keeps a chest full of Frogs wanting to jump
Into the pond, their dreams croak and croak
Throughout this hot summer Pleading to the white heronFor rain and more rain Lest they die
What arrived instead is the plow, Their territories cut into small pieces
And some will have no place to live, I am referring to the frogs
like men And the children Of the little space This pond drying itself
To death. The air is thin and sharp to the feel Of guts
Gathering the early dusts of the south bound road, And few raindrops
Fell on the chalky pathways some two or Three farm children running for cover,
I walk fast, trying to outrun The children, the frogs, the men,
And the shadowy coconut trees, Fast and faster still Like my thoughts running and running In circles Oval to this gym
The first ray is coming out From the edge of a grey cloud Pushed towards a darker side To my eyes Lights stab and light
With more light Gushing forth from the stomach
Of dawn.
Someone just performed The ritual of morning The birth Of another day, I walk past time And must go home on time
I have my lover for breakfast Waiting And some thoughts
Running and running thoughts wanting To stop.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Jump Jump
Wearing stripes, arms up high, as tall as can be,
Nothing more than a frozen smile to see.
In the cage hell defy all thats logical.
Under lights, stay up all night with his formula.
In the grip in the step of potential rage.
Oh its hip, formulated to fascinate.
If you do it like this: jump! jump!
Do it like this: jump! jump!
She moves faster than any eye can see,
Moving parts that arent moved normally.
In the haze what it isnt is what you see.
On and off, up and down, like a yo yo string.
Try to do it like this: jump! jump!
No, no, like this: jump! jump!
Do it for a kiss: jump! jump!
Do it like this: jump! jump!
They shine, we shield our eyes to see what is the dazzling and the enchanted.
They whine come closer to me.
That is the dizzying, the dancing sorcery.
Jump little doggie. do what she say. jump jump jump.
Jump little doggie. do what she say. jump jump jump.
Jump little doggie. do what she say. jump jump jump.
Jump little doggie. do what she say. jump jump jump.
Whoa whoa, my little doggie, he does a trick.
Ruff ruff!
He went to school to learn how to sit.
We were excited, delighted having fun.
As we decended the exit, got off the bus,
We got friends, we got fans now, and this is proof.
Can you tell me why that guy is on the roof?
Oh ho, do it like this: jump! jump!
Try it like this: jump! jump!
Do it more like this: jump! jump!
Jump little doggie. do what she say. jump jump.
Jump little doggie. do what she say. jump jump.
Jump little doggie. do what she say. jump jump.
Jump little doggie. do what she say. jump jump.
song performed by by Blondie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Shadows And Tall Trees
Back to the cold restless streets at night
I talk to myself about tomorrow night
Walls of white protest
A gravestone in name
Who is it now
It's always the same
Who is it now
Who calls me inside
Are the leaves on the trees
Just living disguise
I walk sweet rain tragicomedy
I'll walk home again
to the street melody
But I know, oh no
But I know, oh no
But I know...
Shadows and tall trees
Shadows and tall trees
Shadows and tall trees
Shadows and tall trees
Life through a window
Discoloured pain
Mrs. Brown's washing is always the same
I walk street rain tragicomedy
I'll walk home again
to the street melody
But I know, oh no
But I know, oh no
But I know...
(Out there)
Do you feel in me...
Anything redeeming
Any worthwhile feeling
Is love like a tightrope
Hanging from the ceiling
But I know, oh no
But I know, oh no
But I know...
Shadows and Tall Trees
song performed by by U2
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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Reflection's on pond
Dragonfly gone frogs tongue,
Ripples another life’s page.
haiku by Ken e Hall
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Clearing at Dawn
The fields are chill, the sparse rain has stopped;
The colours of Spring teem on every side.
With leaping fish the blue pond is full;
With singing thrushes the green boughs droop.
The flowers of the field have dabbled their powdered cheeks;
The mountain grasses are bent level at the waist.
By the bamboo stream the last fragment of cloud
Blown by the wind slowly scatters away.
Li Po
tr. Waley
Rainbow On A Morning
Thanks Dark - for the nightmares!
Rain bleeding all over me,
Like swarms of needling gnats
God what a night!
I parted the curtains of my ragged tent-
My little hellhole
A single crepuscular ray
Sneaked through a small rent in the filth
Of crawling clouds
I stared cynically
But yep! I admit, the rain was dying down-
My canvas yammered less
Was Nature having a tea break?
Another ray, fewer drops, lifting hope:
A winning sun!
A bird told the story on her flight;
Even she was looking over at the prism-
The over-arching schism through the gloom
Uplifted, upstanding, I even smiled;
When Nature turns and shows Her brighter side-
The one with rainbows on a morning
Dusted with a fine sprinkle of rain-
Then She has reminded us:
Catch Her at Her best
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2010
Rainbow=rainbow=rainbow=rainbow
rainbow rainbow rainbow prism
Rainbow=rainbow=rainbow=rainbow
rainb ow rainbow rainbow schism
rainbow rainbow rainbowism
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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When I Go Fishing
when i go fishing
i am always reminded
of the fish in the pond
and the hook, line
and sinker
the bait is this worm
this shrimp
and objective is always
the fish
in there
one drinks so much silence
by the pond
i see the ripples
i see the shadows of fins
i drink so much silence
i fathom so much depth
i might have missed the elusive fish
losing my worm and my shrimp
what i bring home is this inner peace
and so i never mind the shadows of the fins
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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In Time Of Silver Rain
In time of silver rain
The earth puts forth new life again,
Green grasses grow
And flowers lift their heads,
And over all the plain
The wonder spreads
Of Life,
Of Life,
Of life!
In time of silver rain
The butterflies lift silken wings
To catch a rainbow cry,
And trees put forth new leaves to sing
In joy beneath the sky
As down the roadway
Passing boys and girls
Go singing, too,
In time of silver rain When spring
And life
Are new.
poem by Langston Hughes
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AE01 growing fish
fish lips barely off water
filtering food crumbs
floating like carpet
fish pond feeding time,
amazing appears as unit
focus to food, giant vacuum
swirling mass of fins, bubbling
some jump with open mouth
catching whatever it pass by
total chaos, survival of fittest
soon nets come for collection
feed them now, to feed you later
poem by Manonton Dalan
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I Wish You a Rainbow
I wish you a rainbow after the rain
Through the good and bad times I've seen your pain
For so long, it has rained on your parade
And because each raindrops are as heavy as the tears rolling down your face
I wish you a rainbow after the rain
Letting you know through all problems there is many options but only one solution
Which will lift up any blockades or burden
On the road to success, which you have taken, I could have wished you
An umbrella, a raincoat, hell even some rain boots
You know, anything to keep you dry and mud off your shoes
But a rainbow is what I thought of, so a rainbow is what I'll wish you.
poem by Landsley Alexandre
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Ocean Poem
I am merely a fish swimming in a pond of darkness.
The trees are anemones standing alone.
Yet still i ride on not giving up
Not stopping at all til we reach the home.
We are all just fish swimming around
We do not take in anything other than the water we breathe
We care about nothing
Its only ourselves we see
that’s why I swim alone in this pond
I don’t want to be like those others
The ones who are all the same
Ill be fine just remember my name
poem by Courtney Tak
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When He's In Love Again
the clouds are so blue
the sea so calm and
the night so serene
the leaves have forgotten
to say a rustle and the
skies are whiter
the mountains silent
the trees tall and dignified
the grasses crawl
with the usual determination
the birds are singing
and the grasshoppers are
jumping
inside him rages a very
sweet storm
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Rainbow Snake
This story of the Rainbow Serpent is an Australian aboriginal legend and I have re-told it, with the best of intentions, for an international audience. I may have made some changes to the story and I hope my re-telling is true to the spirit of the original versions.
the rainbow snake
see it tickles
the frogs
and water fills the rivers and gullies
and waterholes;
and see the rainbow snake
see it brings forth
all life sleeping before
it is the beginning
and the earth is bare and barren
and the Rainbow Serpent
dear Ngalyod, powerful Borlung
the lovely Rainbow Serpent
she moves across the earth
and where she moves
see
how she creates tracks and dry courses
and huge craters;
and see how the Rainbow Serpent
she digs into the earth and emerges crashing into the air
on the other earth side of the world
and see how she throws up mountains and crags
and hills and mounds
and the Uluru and ravines;
and she calls the frogs
who come in heavy and bloated
and she tickles the frogs
and the frogs laugh
and the waters flow and the rains have come
and the dry lands are replete
with billabongs, rivers, creeks and lagoons
and the mighty oceans;
and the Rainbow Serpent is pleased
and she calls forth all
sleeping beings
and they all awake
and the Rainbow Serpent is pleased
and she provides them laws
and she disappears into another waterhole
and you can see her
you can see the Benevolent Rainbow Serpent
as she travels from one waterhole to another
as she emerges from one and she is in the sky
and you can see her
the lovely creative Rainbow Serpent in the sky
and she disappears soon enough
into another huge waterhole
somewhere on our earth
the rainbow snake
see it tickles
the frogs
and water fills the rivers and gullies
and waterholes;
and see the rainbow snake
see it brings forth
all life sleeping before
poem by Raj Arumugam
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