For Mr. R
that time
all that he can do is flee the place
run away from his own house
that his son burned
it is not a question of whether he is responsible or not
it is a question of
not to hurt the one who caused him so much pain
and so all the memories are gone
the house that he built from his hard earned money for years
everything everything is gone
this time he does not flee anymore
there is no way that he is going to run away from anything again
he stays put on the ground which is right
nothing matters.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Related quotes
Transitions....
at first the house is one kind of a party
more friends are coming
you even let the mailman to have a drink
and stay for a while
though he has nothing to say just like
the masons and some carpenters
then the house was almost burned
there was so much panic that day
the whole village talked about it for weeks
of course, the house as usual is silent like
most rocks
to regain its solidity
it listens to the refreshes of the sea breeze
it resumes its pacific nature
facing the sea and learning from the past storms
then something so horrible happens
but no one in the house is telling about it
the pillars shook and some walls gave in
a part of the roof was taken by the hurricane
but the house is still in tact
changes come into play
the gates are closed
the mailman is having a hard time pressing the door bell
the mail box is broken
and some thieves are anticipating that someday
they can get in and make their presence felt
perhaps to take
what is essential
what they did not know is that
no one lives in this house anymore
all the memories are put into boxes and kept in the cellars
the house has become one mummified pharaoh
a pyramid that points to the sun
the village only talks about the built-in mysteries
it is one kind of a cadaver surrounded by flowers
whose heart has been removed a few days ago
and then the talk stops
and that was only when the last prayer was said.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Independent Woman....
we are in this house
that from our sweat built
there are only two of us
in this house
which we have not really
called as home,
something's missing
you give me a hint
not the glass window or
the ceiling fan,
i know it but how can i
tell you?
i won't tell, it will hurt you,
we continue living
somehow
just the two of us in this house
we have our own careers
and every morning we rush to go on our different ways
the night is the only place
of our tryst
we manage to spend time for love
we sleep together and share
what we can
there will be a time when this house shall fall
because it is not a home for us all
there will be one morning when you will finally leave
and take away everything from me
and then i will write it on the wall
this house is never a home,
she never wanted a child to bear.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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This House
(nile rodgers)
This house is built
On a foundation of love
This house is built
On a foundation of love
Our toys are in the attic baby
Pictures on the wall
We can see our memories
From the days past in the mirror
Down the hall, oh yeah
Our love will survive in our own little paradise
So inspired, so inspired
Palatial it may not be
But its a home and a castle to me
A dream from a magazine
And well never give it up cause
This house is built
On a foundation of love
This house is built
On a foundation of love
Ill try to comfort you baby
You try to comfort me yeah
I know you love me
With all your heart, oh yeah
cause you say you do
You know that when you are sad
Ill be there in a flash
At the drop of a hat, oh yeah
cause I want you to feel love
And you dont have to say a thing
You dont have to ask, cause baby
This house is built
On a foundation of love
This house is built
On a foundation of love
Maybe well strike it rich
One day really make it big
And I know because our love is so strong
Well always have a home
This house is built
On a foundation of love
This house is built
On a foundation of love
This house is built
On a foundation of love
This house is built
On a foundation of love
This house is built
On a foundation of love
This house is built
On a foundation of love
song performed by by Diana Ross
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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That house
That house
Feeling that sadness every time I go by
The house I stand in front of
She was the best I can’t lie about it
Look towards that house I’m scared
See her face in the pitchers on that wall though the window
I can’t go in she’s gone died in the ground
It’s hard to say why but the feelings hit me like no other
Making the pain come back
For every second I’m there
For every time I’m thinking about her
She was a friend who had no shame
The rain falls like music long ago befoe her time ended
poem by nic Leisure
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A Whisper
there is a whisper that arrived in our
little place
it's name is loneliness and it is looking
for someone that it has known years ago
in the place where it is living
it is knocking every door of the house
and someone opens it
it mentions my name and it asks whether
i still live here
someone takes the courage of telling it
that my house is about two hills away
from here
finally we meet. It stares at me. Closely.
Then it hugs me. It cries. It kissess my ears.
I am silent. I am still thinking of you for all
these years. Time cannot heal.And then the
whisper stays inside my ears. Silenced.
It is not saying any word anymore.
The neighbors know that its name
is loneliness.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Pain Pain by cedrick dennis
Pain Pain over here pain over there Pain in my heart pain in my soul Pain in my mind Pain in my skin pain in my bones Pain being caused left and right Pain being caused till the heart bleeds red Pain being caused till the skin and bone rip Pain being caused till you break into tears Pain at school Pain at home Pain in my head, pain in my heart Pain in my mind, pain in my soul Pain happening in my sleep Pain happening in my thoughts Pain happening when I’m alone Pain happening in the shower, in my room, in my bed, in my house where I’m all alone Pain happening every hour, every minute, every second of my life Pain caused by anger and hate Pain caused by hurt Pain caused by greed Pain caused by sorrow and depression Pain caused by grief and confusion Pain caused by your family and friends Pain caused by the world Pain caused by people you love Pain driving me crazy Causing me to take pills till it fills up my veins I go to sleep never to wake up and see that light The light that will end my pain for good
poem by Cedrick Dennis
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Feeling Like A Stranger
in this place
this house without furnitures
all floors, this house with nothing but some stairs
and windows
you built it, i was away for years and we meet again
in this house
of acquaintances
devoid of affection, i have a way of telling what is this all about
by merely looking at the ceiling
there are no lights
to clarify me, who am i? in this house where i am not even a tree
or a vine
rootless, leafless
dying,
shall i continue living here?
i feel so unlike everyone else,
i am a total stranger
in this house that you built
this house devoid of affection,
i guess i have no choice
but to leave at once
otherwise, i too shall perish
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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How Long Has It Been?
How long has it been?
Since you left me
Our friends ask the question
All of the time
I tried to measure it
In years, months, and days
Even hours, minutes and seconds
But I lost track along the way
The hurt still lingers
The question, unanswered
And I’m getting to the point
Where I don’t care anymore
I used to look out the window
In hope you would one day pass by
But as time passed
The loving grew less
Now when friends ask
How long has it been?
I tell them I don’t care
But secretly I do
I’m still in love with you
poem by David Harris
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Tearing This House Down (A Song)
Me and this here dozer
Were gonna tear this house down
To many years of memories
Have all let me down
This house is coming down
I'm tearing this house down
To many years of memories
Where love was never found
I'm gonna start with the bed room
Where there's never been no love
And tear right through that living room
Where livings been so rough
You won it in divorce decree
So what is your is yours to keep
You can have whats left of this debree
But this house is coming down
This house is coming down
I've slaved for thirty years
This is the way you repay my love
The blood sweat and tears
So while your out with your honey do
Take your time I have a gift for you
Some modifications all brand new
This house is coming down.
poem by Bill Simmons
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Don't Hurt Yourself
(HogarthKellyMosleyRotheryTrewavas)
There'll come a time when all of this is over
Something else will grow and take it's place
The brand new car:scrap metal in a junkyard
The children playing will grow up and leave home
Put it away this dream you can't stop dreaming
Put it away this anger and desire
The open road is infinitely hopeful
Take all those memories and throw them in the fire
And don't hurt yourself
Don't hurt yourself
Don't hurt yourself anymore
There's old man on a warm and sunny island
No job, no money, just a smile to call his own
Know what he says?. "The past will only haunt you.
Live for today. Each day's an open door
Don't hurt yourself
Don't hurt yourself
Don't hurt yourself anymore"
Nothing to lose is nothing to fight over
The shining stars!
They've seen it all before.
Don't hurt yourself
Don't hurt yourself
Don't hurt yourself anymore
Dust keeps coming. Rust keeps coming. Weeds keep growing. Seeds keep growing
Where you going?
song performed by by Marillion
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Man Of The House
Well I ain't proud of what I'm about to do
All alone up here with you
With the picture of your man
Face down upon the night stand, so he can't see
And I don't like running all the red lights here
Every time the coast is clear
Any time you need my lovin'
You know I'll come running, faithfully
(Chorus)
Cause he stays so busy with his money
And you, you get so lonely when he's gone
And me, I'm just your temporary lover
'Til your blues are gone
I'm the man of the house whenever he ain't home
Now the statues on the side of that big gate
They're laughing as I drive away
And I can't keep from thinking
Are they laughing at your old man or at me
And the only part that I don't like to play
Is the part when I get up and go away
I find it mighty hard
Just keeping this old heart tucked away
Cause he stays...
(Repeat Chorus)
I'm the man of the house
When your other man ain't home
song performed by by Keith Urban
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Eumenides
Think you we slept within the Delphic bower,
What time our victim sought Apollo’s grace?
Nay, drawn into ourselves, in that deep place
Where good and evil meet, we bode our hour.
For not inexorable is our power.
And we are hunted of the prey we chase,
Soonest gain ground on them that flee apace,
And draw temerity from hearts that cower.
Shuddering we gather in the house of ruth,
And on the fearful turn a face of fear,
But they to whom the ways of doom are clear
Not vainly named us the Eumenides.
Our feet are faithful in the paths of truth,
And in the constant heart we house at peace.
poem by Edith Wharton
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Time in Iraq
A time to fight,
A time to pray,
A time to leave,
A time to stay.
A time to question guilt,
A time to count the friendships built.
A time to smile,
A time to cry.
A time to say 'Hello'
A time to say 'Goodbye'
A time for living,
A time for giving,
A time for forgiving,
A time for pain.
A time to blame.
A time to kill,
A time to maim.
A time to to settle back,
A time to retire and stay home.
poem by Philip Lore
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The House Of Passion
This house is disintegrating
Do I have time?
Before the house disappears
It’s been built on dreams of emotion
It’s fragile
I can’t see is falling
It’s a pity!
Give me strength give me time
But who!
Can I salvage my bondage?
To the house of passion
Built carelessly in clouds
Do I have a choice!
But time isn’t mine
And I am slowly falling
poem by Shushil Choubey
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What Am I Doin' Here
What am I doin' here
Alone in this lonely house
This house that we dreamed about
This house we shared till you walked out
What am I doing here
This place ain't no good for me
It just brings back memories
And the last thing I need is memories
I should be movin' on
What am I doin' here
Now that you've really gone
Why can't I dry these tears
But oh, the years we had
Here in this house that we both loved so madly
I've never been like this
Just livin' in yesterdays
But there's so much I miss
And so much that I still can't face
If there's a chance for me
I just can't see it now
All I see is what can't be
And all I see is no way out
I should be movin' on
What am I doin' here
Now that you've really gone
Why can't I dry these tears
But oh, the years we had
Here in this house that we both loved so madly
What am I doing here
I should be movin' on
What am I doing here
What am I doing here
song performed by by Barry Manilow
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sonnet: Money
Money when God-given, will everlast;
Though spend you may like water for good deeds;
Money when earned by man will get spent fast;
And never can suffice to meet your needs.
Money when God-given will grow like trees,
And give you many luscious fruits and seeds;
Money when earned by man is gone with th'breeze,
And grows to be like scattered, useless weeds.
Money when God-given in time will stay;
Remaining blest, it helps to change man's fate;
Money when earned by man fritters away,
And invites vices, troubles, peoples' hate.
Money God-given can't beget evils,
The soul stays pure, resistant to devils.
poem by John Celes
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From This City I Want To Escape (Free Verse Quatern)
From this city I want to flee,
to find a place of some solace,
not again I want to return,
where city lights sometimes blind people.
I still think about how it was,
from this city I want to flee,
I cannot fit in this anthill,
a bridge to escape, I must find.
The city makes me uneasy,
I want to wander on the beach,
from this city I want to flee,
I want to vanish by bus or train.
Now I splash in a city stream,
at times are in the open air,
about freedom I can just dream,
from this city I want to flee.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Just a little poem about a house
A house made out of glass and bricks
That has seen some tricks
A house that has been here for years
This house has witnessed some happiness and some tears
This is house used to be my home,
Used to call it my dome
Now it doesn’t exist anymore
Glass and bricks are swept to the floor
Memories of the past, weren’t meant to last
The only thing that still stands, is the drawing in your hands.
poem by Oopsie Woopsie
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Who Am I? 3
Who am I? Who am I?
I don’t know anymore.
Not so long ago I had friends by the score
who were knocking on my door,
but not anymore.
Just the nagging question.
Who am I?
Who am I? Who am I?
I don’t know anymore.
My parents are gone
and my sister does not want to know.
I am left in a limbo
and not sure which way to go
with only a nagging question.
Who am I?
Who am I? Who am I?
My identity is fraught with indecision.
My life is in a whirlpool of dissention.
I am lost in a wilderness
of which there is no escape.
I cannot tell who I am anymore.
All I have is a nagging question in my mind.
Who am I?
18 May 2009
poem by David Harris
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Leaving an old ancestral house...
i always remember someone leaving the house with a heavy heart. I sympathize. My heart is also heavy.
It is dark and someone carries a bag and begins to step away.
The steps become fainter.
I like to help. I suggest he stays. But Papa is vehement
and decisive.
Many years ago, five or ten people already left this house.
I stayed. I keep on staying.
The house is empty now.
I have decided not to listen anymore about the sound of emptiness.
The house of Gregorio must fall.
Everyone here dies.
I want to live. And so i must go somewhere else.
Where there are no hands that will choke me.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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