For A Niece Who Just Had An Abortion
she left Ormoc
for it is such a small place for
her mind
she arrived in Cebu
that early morning
with a small pack of
clothes
she just had an abortion
and she felt so
isolated
she did not go direct
to her boarding house
she sat on one of the
benches in Fuente Circle
she cried, she is blank
as a grey sky sans the sun
she called my wife
through her phone, sobbing
'It is still very painful'
my wife listened
just listened
she knew how is it
to bleed
without stopping.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Related quotes
I would not have done, if I knew it earlier..
When you called me other day,
and told me your sad story,
I should have listened to you, not have done it.
When you called me middle of the night,
and told me that you had given up all hopes,
I should have listened to you only, not have done that.
When you came to my house,
cried your heart out,
I should have listened to you ONLY, not have done that.
When you made a hell out my weak heart,
pestered me to part the hard earned money,
I should have listened to you, not have lent the cash.
When I call you now,
You already changed your phone number,
several times.
When I come to your house,
your neighbors have become old,
and you shifted to a new house.
When I manage to get your new number,
and call you, you do tell me,
that I called the wrong number.
If I knew it earlier,
that you bargained my affection for money,
I would not have lent you the money,
at least I still have a friend or a relative intact.
poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I should have listened to God
I should have listened to God
When he said that it would end
I should have listened to God
And been just friends
I should have listened to God
Before it was too late
I should have listened to God
But now I deal with fate
I should have listened to God
That it would break my heart
I should have listened to God
That it would fall apart
I should have listened to God
Because he loves me in everyway
I should have listened to God
And all that he had to say
I should have listened to God
And show what he made me to be
I should have listened to God
But I know he has forgiven me!
0016 Orpheus - or his lute?
It was his listening; he listened
to himself; he listened to himself
listening to his lute; his lute perforce
listened to itself; listened to itself
listening to him..listened to
the measures of all things, even
the measures of mankind..
space, air, listened to his listening;
listened as the eagle made a silent,
perfect circle around a centre in its mind
high above Delphi that clear morning;
listened to the silent cliffs across the gorge,
silently ominous in their listening;
the stream which trickles down past the carved theatre,
cool and clear enough to wash your face;
look up the mountain and hope it sacred, holy; it
plashes like curiosity pursued, down towards the river
which is a mere pencil line at the bottom of the gorge
in this so unexpected place;
the sea barely visible in the distance,
misty with its myths unspoken;
space listened and loved his music, allowed this scene;
a cool air, this morning elsewhere hot, descends gently
down the mountain to the gorge, curves past these rocks
where a dark shadow here or there
could be where the Sibyl listened too.
we thought, boarding the hot bus,
that we were tourists; then we looked,
became pilgrims; then something more,
more like worshippers of the unknown god
whose altar we left behind in Athens,
silent beyond questions,
listening to the space
as if the space itself
listened to some instrument well tuned,
a voice perhaps, silent, powerful.
the sun, the sunlight, moved from rock to rock
this cool, clear morning, waking
clumps of sparse bright flowers, woken
again by morning bees
who may be unaware – or born to know—
they forage at a world heritage site as do we visitors,
at Delphi, where still truth speaks in silence;
bees who listen to each other,
dance their satnav trails,
listen inwardly to flowers,
to honey, and what else
poem by Michael Shepherd
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I Listened To The Learned Cosmologist
I LISTENED TO THE LEARNED COSMOLOGIST
I listened to the learned cosmologist
Explain how we are not really the center of anything-
Not Space not Time not even our own special creation on earth-
I listened to the learned cosmologist
Tell us we live in an obscure corner of the Galaxy
Just one small circling clod of a humdrum sun -
I listened to him tell us we should learn to be humble
For we are not the leader or the ruler or the purpose
Of the world.
I listened to the learned cosmologist
And I wondered why the love of a few on this earth
Makes me feel there is home and happiness
Special blessing in my life -
I wondered why what will be at the end of the end of the end
Seems to mean so much less to me
Than what will be in the brief time I am here-
I listened to the learned cosmologist-
And knew somewhere in me and on this earth and in this universe
There are other worlds
Than the ones he is describing
And we to each and every one we love are
More than all the suns and the distances
However small and insignificant we ultimately be.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Togetherness Is Gone
My wife,
Stop cleaning the house
Please come here
To accompany me
My husband,
The house is dirty
We aren't able to pay the maid
You've already retired
My wife,
Don't cook
It's a holiday
Let us eat outside the home
My husband,
Don't eat outdoors
We need efficient
You've already retired
My wife,
Let's keep me company
Why the rush to sleep
It's still early
My husband,
I have to get up early
To clean the house
And prepare breakfast
My wife,
I have to go this morning
My friends were waiting
Long we don't meet
My husband,
Be careful on the road
Greetings for your friends
But, why not breakfast?
My wife,
You have fallen asleep last night
I see you sleeping soundly all
I don't have the heart to wake you
My husband,
I'm sorry
I don't welcome you home
But, why should sleep on the sofa?
My wife,
I have to go again
I have social activities
With my old friends
My husband,
Don't forget dinner at home
You look very dapper
Although not wear perfume
My wife,
sorry, we were very busy
I had dinner with friends
Happy dinner, dear
My husband,
I woke up too early
But you're not at home
Where are you?
My wife,
I came home at midnight
I have to go early in the morning
I don't have the heart to wake you
My husband,
I just finished washing clothes
I've found the clothes that you wear today
But, why the smell of perfume?
poem by Hasanudin Sofyan
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A Home
I mistook the warnings for wisdom
From so called friends quick to advise
Though your touch was telling me otherwise
Somehow I saw you as a weakness
I thought I had to be strong
Oh but I was just young, I was scared, I was wrong
Not a night goes by
I dont dream of wandering
Through the home that might have been
And I listened to my pride
When my heart cried out for you
Now every day I wake again
In a house that might have been
A home
Guess I did what I did believing
That love is a dangerous thing
Oh but that couldnt hurt anymore than never knowing
Not a night goes by
I dont dream of wandering
Through the home that might have been
And I listened to my pride
When my heart cried out for you
Now every day I wake again
In a house that might have been
A home
A home
Four walls, a roof, a door, some windows
Just a place to run when my working day is through
They say home is where the heart is
If the exception proves the rule I guess thats true
Not a night goes by
I dont dream of wandering
Through the home that might have been
And I listened to my pride
When my heart cried out for you
Now every day I wake again
In a house that might have been
A home
A home
song performed by by Dixie Chicks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Shoulda' Listened
Ohhh... yeah
I should have stopped, looked and listened before I proceeded
But caution I threw to the wind
Manyve been placed in my life to help lead me and guide me
But I didnt want to talk to them
So I ignored their advice and I tried to disguise pain from you and all the things you did
The wrong road was chosen my heart has been broken
Cause I didnt want to hear them
Shoulda said what I didnt say
Shoulda went right but I went left that day
Shoulda prayed but instead I strayed
Shoulda gone a different way
Shoulda listened to my mother
When she said that you were no good for me
Shoulda listened to my pastors
When they told me turn around and leave you be
Shoulda listened to my sisters
When they said that I was too blind to see
But I see the light somehow
And I vow to listen now
I had the chance to advance and it seemed like the best
Opportunity that I could get
I didnt bother to see if my people agreed
Maybe I knew what they would say and yet
I didnt control it I kept going for it
When I shoulda known it wasnt in Gods plan
Had to let go, had I listened before
I wouldve said no from the door
Shoulda said what I didnt say
Shoulda went right but I went left that day
Shoulda stayed but instead I strayed
Shoulda gone a different way
Shoulda listened to my mother
When she said that you were no good for me
Shoulda listened to my pastors
When they told me turn around and leave you be
Shoulda listened to my sisters
When they said that I was too blind to see
But I see the light somehow
And I vow to listen now
Shoulda listened to my mother
When she said that you were no good for me
Shoulda listened to my pastors
When they told me turn around and leave you be
Shoulda listened to my sisters
When they said that I was too blind to see
But I see the light somehow
And I vow to listen now
Shoulda listened I know I shoulda listened
But I know that I vow to listen now
Shoulda listened I know I shoulda listened
But you dont have to tell me twice I'm going to listen now
Shoulda listened if only I had listened
But Ive learned my lesson now
Im gonna listen now
Shoulda listened cause I just cant be missing
All the things God has for me
Repeat till end
song performed by by Out Of Eden
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Should Have Listened To Me
(tim hunt/steve bogard/rick giles)
(track 4 - time 3:30)
When you told me you needed a little time on your own
I kinda lied and said Id be alright all alone
My friends said hey man what can you do
Let her see whats missing and shell come back to you
They all said it was for the best
But I knew as I watched you leave
I shouldve listened to me, and gotten down on my knees
I heard the words in my heart, dont tear us apart
Come back baby please
I shouldve swallowed my pride, I shouldve broke down and cried
I was the one who knew that you and I were meant to be
I shouldve listened to me
Call it intuition, an instinctual feeling
When you know you bet it all and your gonna lose everything
Thats what I had when you walked out the door
And as each day passes Im feeling it more and more
Now that Im hear its all so clear
How could I have made you see
I shouldve listened to me, and gotten down on my knees
I heard the words in my heart, dont tear us apart
Come back baby please
I shouldve swallowed my pride, I shouldve broke down and cried
I was the one who knew that you and I were meant to be
I shouldve listened
I shouldve listened to me, and gotten down on my knees
I heard the words in my heart, dont tear us apart
Come back baby please
I shouldve swallowed my pride, I shouldve broke down and cried
I was the one who knew that you and I were meant to be
I shouldve listened to me
I shouldve listened to me
song performed by by Yankee Grey
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Story Made
The table with its sunshade wide,
listened to the chattering.
Old and young sat side by side
around it, gaily nattering.
The birds perched nearby in the trees,
listened to the chattering
rising up on a light breeze.
Indeed the sounds were shattering.
The sun that shone down from the sky,
listened to the chattering.
Knew that once the rain came by,
there would be gentle pattering.
The young and old who felt the drops,
ceased to do the chattering.
Went indoors under rooftops,
resuming their loud yattering.
The sunshade dripping from the hail,
listened to the chattering.
Felt so sorry for a snail,
getting such a harsh battering.
The chairs where everyone had sat,
listened to the chattering.
Many were now lying flat.
there had been quite a scattering.
And so all these things a story made,
all about the chattering.
The elements well displayed,
when all received a splattering.
poem by Ernestine Northover
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Silly; Old Age; Marriage: Who Put The Vacuum Cleaner Away?
I biked to Radio Road yesterday while my wife vacuumed house.
When I got back she was at computer, .....quiet as a mouse.
I did a little chore or two outside before starting late day routine.
I read to my wife as she fixed the evening meal. I'm sure the house was clean.
Sometimes when she vacuums, I find the vacuum left in my way.
Then, if she's finished, I help..... by putting it in its place. Hey!
Yesterday I found no vacuum left about. My wife is getting better.
The progress of my feet (through our house) no vacuum cord did fetter.
So it was a minor shock to me what my wife said this morning.
[ It wasn't a world-shaking statement, but I had no real warning.]
She said 'thank you for putting vacuum cleaner away.' Something like that at least.
It was nothing I expected to hear from her....at our late morning feast.
[Our conversation then went something like this; I will paraphrase.]
He: 'no I didn't put it away sweetheart. Are you in a daze? '
She: 'no I'm not in a daze my dear. I'd not store it that way.'
He: 'wife, I'm not kidding you. If I'd done it I would say.'
She: 'I don't put it under the seat that way. I'd have left it neater.'
He: 'I'll challenge you to a senility test.' [I think that I could beat her.]
She: 'I'm really worried about you Bri. Who will care for you? '
Don't you remember putting it away? Please Bri, tell me true.
He: I'm telling you the truth dear wife. Why would I lie to you? '
Ok, sometimes I'm forgetful, but at times you are too.'
She: I did not put it away. I would not leave the lace on the seat askew.'
He: 'I love you dear wife. Maybe I did do it....., but I think you did....I do.'
poem by Bri Edwards
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Bullet Proof
Do you listen to yourself
Never live for someone else
Do you like the way you feel
Nothing hurts when no one's real
She wants to shake this scene
Yeah she wants to shake with me
She's not looking for the holes in all the lies
I wanna bullet proof your soul
Would you like to lose control
I won't let you fall until you tell me so
What are we? (Whatchya wanna be)
Everything! (That you wanna be)
All I need (Right in front of me)
I've know before
Would you come my way
Or did you burn out to the end
Would you come my way
Should have listened when you called my name
Yeah she wants to tear you down
And she leaves without a sound
It's like fallin' backwards
Into no one's arms
You're a bullet through my soul
And I'll never let you know
I won't let you fall until you let it go
What are we? (Whatchya wanna be)
Everything! (That you wanna be)
All I need (Right in front of me)
I've know before
Would you come my way
Or did you burn out to the end
Would you come my way
Should have listened when you called my name
Would you come my way
Or did you burn out to the end
Would you come my way
Should have listened when you called my name
Should have listened when you called my name
Should have listened when you called my name
song performed by by Goo Goo Dolls
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Getting Out
i did not say it was a mad house.
perhaps it was me, when i left it.
perhaps i have not seen the light.
or perhaps it was too dark inside.
or perhaps the darkness is just inside myself.
but then i left it. It is now a fact.
i smile to the world now.
i have many choices about what colors
of shirt, or pants or socks to wear.
i can read any book and i can be anywhere
i want.
i did not change my face or modify my body.
there was no pressure to adopt my vision
to anyone else
or to that house that is set in the middle of the
big city and walled as high as the clouds.
all i felt was the hanging
and the inhibition as though i am caged
but you have always said
this is part of the molding and it
will be painful for a time.
i want a ring with a name and date on it.
i want a house without walls.
a face with eyes open and hands outstretch
to the sky.
i want to listen to the sound of the river
as it longs for the mouth of the sea.
i went to the mountain with trees and
listened to the songs of the birds
and the aria of the wind.
i went on top and saw the city
and it is too small for my hands.
now, i have seen the light.
now i feel freedom.
now i am myself. there is no fear
and all i have is love and
compassion.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Feeling lousy
Feeling lousy is seeing this lady laughing
She does her thing with confidence like she
Knows everything; what to do with this
Matter called
Everything,
She knows her place and claims it as hers,
She tells you, you are never like her doing so well
In fame,
Glory, and
Honor,
She has her circle of friends, a nice reliable computer
And an internet facility
To get her on top
On top of shape, on top of everything,
Yes, this everything,
Which she has control of,
And feeling so lousy, I wish how I can be like her,
This great woman of everything
But then, I wonder, I have my place, where she can never be,
This lowly place, this small space she detests,
This is mine, I am small,
This small place I have
Where she can never be
And I own this,
Enough for me,
I am happy.
And, oh well, I do not like everything,
Too big to handle and
I know
I would be unhappy by then.
I simply like myself being small.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Five
Feeling lousy is seeing this lady laughing
She does her thing with confidence like she
Knows everything; what to do with this
Matter called
Everything,
She knows her place and claims it as hers,
She tells you, you are never like her doing so well
In fame,
Glory, and
Honor,
She has her circle of friends, a nice reliable computer
And an internet facility
To get her on top
On top of shape, on top of everything,
Yes, this everything,
Which she has control of,
And feeling so lousy, I wish how I can be like her,
This great woman of everything
But then, I wonder, I have my place, where she can never be,
This lowly place, this small space she detests,
This is mine, I am small,
This small place I have
Where she can never be
And I own this,
Enough for me,
I am happy.
And, oh well, I do not like everything,
Too big to handle and
I know
I would be unhappy by then.
I simply like myself being small.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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I Shouldve Listened
I SHOULD'VE LISTENED WHEN MY MOM SHOWED ME RIGHT FROM WRONG
I SHOULD'VE LISTENED TO MY MOM WHEN SHE SAID BEING IN THE STREETS ALL NIGHT LONG WAS WRONG
I SHOULD'VE LISTENED TO MY MOM WHEN SHE TOLD ME THA TI WAS IN THE WRONG
I SHOULD'VE LISTENED TO MY MOM WHEN SHE WAS ONLY TRYING TO KEEP ME SAFE
I SHOULD'VE LISTENED TO ALL THE THINGS THAT MY MOM ONCE TOLD ME...NOW ITS TOO LATE CAUSE IM GONE...
I WAS SIXTEEN AND WAS BURIED 6 FEET FROM HEAD TO FEET...
I SHOULD'VE LISTENED.
poem by Gaby Pineda
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Hiram Helsel
Air -- "Three Grains of Corn"
Once was a boy, age fifteen years,
Hiram Helsel was his name,
And he was sick two years or so;
He has left this world of pain;
His friends they miss this lovely boy,
That was patient, kind and brave.
He left them all for him to mourn --
He is sleeping in his grave.
He was a small boy of his age,
When he was five years or so
Was shocked by lightning while to play
And it caused him not to grow,
He was called little Hi. Helsel
By all friends that knew him well --
His life was sad, as you shall hear,
And the truth to you I'll tell.
His parents parted when he was small,
And both are married again.
How sad it was for them to meet
And view his last remains.
He was living with his father then,
As many a friend can tell;
'Tis said his father's second wife
That she did not use him well.
Just before little Hiram died --
His uncle and aunt were there --
He kissed them both -- bid them farewell,
They left him with a prayer.
Now he is gone, Oh! let him rest;
His soul has found a haven,
For grief and woe ne'er enters there,
In that place called heaven.
poem by Julia A Moore
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The Quaker Of The Olden Time
THE Quaker of the olden time!
How calm and firm and true,
Unspotted by its wrong and crime,
He walked the dark earth through.
The lust of power, the love of gain,
The thousand lures of sin
Around him, had no power to stain
The purity within.
With that deep insight which detects
All great things in the small,
And knows how each man's life affects
The spiritual life of all,
He walked by faith and not by sight,
By love and not by law;
The presence of the wrong or right
He rather felt than saw.
He felt that wrong with wrong partakes,
That nothing stands alone,
That whoso gives the motive, makes
His brother's sin his own.
And, pausing not for doubtful choice
Of evils great or small,
He listened to that inward voice
Which called away from all.
O Spirit of that early day,
So pure and strong and true,
Be with us in the narrow way
Our faithful fathers knew.
Give strength the evil to forsake,
The cross of Truth to bear,
And love and reverent fear to make
Our daily lives a prayer!
poem by John Greenleaf Whittier
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Life is Give and Take
There was a lady I once knew
who lived in a house all alone.
She never ventured far from there,
this place where she had grown.
She never called me by my name.
She only called me friend.
We'd talk a while and then were quiet.
But before the visit would end
she'd place her hand inside of mine
and hold it tenderly.
As I left I always felt
her touch I'd take with me.
I looked forward to these times
and knew that she did too.
When she died I cried a little
and was glad she never knew
that I had lost my vision
and was blind just like she.
I'm glad I never told her that.
She thought that I could see.
Life is give and take I know.
Nothing else matters much.
The part of her that stays with me
is her friendly touch.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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You listened
You took the time
To hear me.
A person that
Was never to judge me.
You listened to my fears.
You would listen
As I nearly cryed.
I never really knew.
An act of kindness.
Till you came
And you listened.
Nothing I said
Ever makes you mad.
You listen to everything
Trying to help me.
You listened
To every thing
I had to say.
Never judging.
You would listen as
I would cry.
You didnt seem to mind
If I did or not.
You always take
The time to listen.
Amy Kerswell
poem by Amy Louise Kerswell
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The Dying Gamblers Story
In a little secret Gambling house in a city known for fame
There sits a man of tender years his head bowed down in shame
That young man told a story as sad as can be
And if you will but listen this is what he said to me.
A year ago I had a wife but she was called one day
And as she lay so near to death she pressed my hand to say
I'm giving you my wedding ring to cherish all your life
And with these words the reaper called away my loving wife.
Soon I started gambling til I never had a thing
And on a hand I thought would win I bet my dead wife's ring
I drew the card and looked at it, Oh God I cried aloud
I've lost my dead wife's wedding ring to this drunken jeering around.
When he had finished speaking he bowed his head and sighed
And we who heard his story knew that he had died
But that dying gamblers story didn't mean a thing
Too bad they said, dealt the cards, and bet his dear wife's ring.
poem by Kenneth T. Schofield
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