For Those Who Remain Alive
on the fields of sorrow
the finches of hope are hovering
the winds of change are blowing
the skies look down
upon the trees whose hands are raised
in praise
of those who remain with the dignity of
their roots
spreading like grass
so many and so alive
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Whatever Happens, Move On, Pursue That End
when we begin we already know what distance is
we see it in the stars we hear it from the Siberian winds
we were telling the trees that our beginning was the smile of the snails
that the moss have always been faithful to the stones
at the middle we learned the games of the waves and the seagulls
there is always the happy chase between respect and dignity
like the moon how it sits on the black horizon how it lightens the silence
you want to know the intimacy of the wind and the cliff
how they have become almost the same in sonorous sounds
sometimes you sense the semblance of surrender
not wanting to go on and be the roots of the trees and the grass
i have touched the tips of your hair, though short, but that is enough
my wings have fully grown and the winds are waiting
i am destined for something else beyond the touch of your hands
i do not know how my story shall end, but the voices are assuring
whatever happens, tell me, for once, that you too shall find yourself
do not turn back, pursue the end without the trembling, the remorse of pain
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Clouds
Clouds, the clouds diffuse a sad and somewhat somber hue;
Rain, the rain descends aslant from angry ashen skies;
Winds, the winds bemoan their loss of reins and calm control;
Shades, the shades appear suffused, alone in lurid haze;
Trees, the trees enshroud the eyes of misty brooding woods;
Leaves, the leaves desert their branches, falling one by one;
Birds, the birds intone a tune, a mourning monody;
Grass, the grass surrenders blades, impaled in truant winds;
Fields, the fields imbibe and quaff to quench an arid thirst;
Stones, the stones repulse the pearls, exploding tears of gloom;
Streams, the streams meander, hushed, to distant vapid shores;
Clouds, the clouds diffuse a sad and somewhat somber hue
poem by Terry O'Leary
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The Lord GOD has given me a well-trained tongue, That I might know how to speak to the weary a word that will rouse them.
they are here
tongues from the skies of blue
skies of clear waters
tiny lights hanging
like fireflies on the trees
in multitudes
drips of light hovering
resting on the hair of my head
unlike the disciples
i do not speak
those tongues
i only write them
from here
where i sit
miles and miles away from you
i, trying to make
a connection
to
you, empty hands to empty hands
in space
we have never all meet
but we are beginning to understand
the wisdom of interlinks
that fence that separates my house
from your house
where a morning glory
climbs, hold on with her
roots
reaches to a sky
with its tendrils
and greets you
with the sweetest petal of
a very simple
hello
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Change In Scenery
I'll keep my small town girl name
but you can change the trees
change the breeze
I'll keep my big heart
but you can change the roads
change the toads
I'll keep my ice-melting smile
but you can change the distance
change the miles
I'll keep my soft hands
but you can change the grass
change the land
I'll keep what makes me me
but you can change our untogetherness
and change the scenery
poem by Jasmine Thompson
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Inner Light Is Finally Shining
Inner light is finally beginning to shine
People are no longer watching from sidelines
They are willing to look beyond their concerns
Help is pouring out all of a sudden.
Whether by lighting a candle or marching in silent protest
Against those who mindlessly perpetrate
Crime, or to help a software techie paralysed
And do whatever for the guy so traumatized.
Today I read the Tamil government has given eunuchs
Their rightful place as a third sex
These are signs to help those marginalised
Mere slogans are not enough it’s finally realised.
All is not lost
There is still hope
Let’s all be the change we want
And not wait for a magic wand
To heal ourselves and all others out there
Because charity begins at home but does not end there
Winds of change are blowing
Winds of change are blowing
Inner light is finally shining
There is yet hope, it is so heartening.
Note—written after reading some news items in the newspaper
poem by Mamta Agarwal
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I keep a summer in my mind
I keep a summer in my mind
far away our youth's initial built,
windows are open on every sunshine,
There I become molecule of air,
smile of the red cloud, an ocean wave's foam.
I know of a smiling place,
where you walk in eternal blossoms
hovering entity of the winds
with your hands reaching out for it
to last in dedicated heavenly shoals.
I know of a day I invited you
my soldiers' colors celebrating a feast
and always a visitor you 'll be
to keep a rhythm, to keep a scope
suspend our Sundays of eighteen.
I know of a space filled with school desks
illuminated molecules of dust
hovering our first-born rights
with constellations in held-up skies
and I have a right to change into this -
made of rock!
poem by Giorgio Veneto
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The Changes Of The Garden
was it the time? or was it us?
or was it change itself that keeps on wriggling
through history like a worm
or like a cocoon finally getting into a short-lived butterfly?
i remember green grass and blooming roses here.
there was a pool of goldfish and water lilies.
now when i come back
everything is gravel and rocks and trees without leaves
the clouds are heavy and gray
and the roots are foul and rotten
shall this be a stage of change? shall this be just temporary?
do you water all these with tears?
the winds have turned into
sobs?
shall i believe you? shall i pretend that this garden is still livable?
when shall be start changing the change?
i will sit here and wait for you.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Sorrow Seeks...
Sorrow Seeks...
Sorrow seeks...
Like the roots of weeds
And as the roots grow deeper
the weight descends
Like gnarled hands grasping at your throat
Choking out the beauty within
A dandelion with a face that glows of golden sun
But within the soil it's roots grow so deep
With one pluck you think it is gone for good
Only to return stronger than before
Sorrow seeks...
Like the roots of weeds
4 April 2008
Winds Of Seasons With Hands Of Hope
i hear the wind
by the wind sound
talking to the waves
with a wind sound
mounted upon the leaves
on the ground
to wind through
and around the leaves proudly
as it runs through me so loudly
and mannered towards me so gladly
to sing a song
by the winds of seasons
as they change in seasons
and cheer in different joy
i feel the wind under me
i can see the sun shine over me
i can walk along the path to sober me
and sleep around the hands on me
to hold me with hands of hope
as all hands do matter
to hold each soul
with hope
today and the days ever
to let the hands of hope
touch my heart
and cleanse me for yet a season
in winds of seasons
opn17082012/2305
'winds of seasons with hands of hope'
'hands of hope' book no.9 of 2012
aug.2012
ntema's unique poetry (nup)
poem by Onalethuso Petruss Ntema
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Curl Of Smoke
a small fire...
blue skies throught barelimbed lenses....
frost bitten grass turns,
the hymn of death continues....
the taste of life, sharp, and pungent!
every touch turned electric,
even the air, alive, and heady!
the sound of lives, wind blowing tin,
and the silent grieving of the stricken!
prayer falls like sweat from dirty faces,
the axe feels good in my hands.
a nip of brandy, a curl of smoke,
alive, and singing the living!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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A Rural View Of My Village
today the women wearing buri hats are planting rice
on the muddy rice fields of Katipunan
the sun is up
the petals of white flowers are
still holding on to their dews
the finches are flying low
and hovering on the grass
the buffaloes are grazing on the field
the children are chasing chickens
and playing with the dogs
the amor secos are growing wild still uncut
as the some men are singing songs with their old guitars
a wooden sled filled with wood is hauled by a big spotted cow
the path is covered with stones that grate their sounds in the open air....
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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I Walk In Prayer
Fire flies amidst the green shadows
River of daunting beauty
Moonlight calls the poets
Vast sky of delight
Bask in serene breezes of dusk
Night cloaks the world of time
Timeless stars with regal glow
Trees whisper praise
I hear the words of love
Are you writing my dear tonight
Is the fire burning
I am the stranger you long for
You are the gold finches of hope
Shall we write of Keats and Dickinson
Shall we rest in each others array
Sorrow has sweetness of wings
Wings of requited joy
We are close
We are lovers in the desert moonlight
Your quill brings lace
Your heart sheds flowers
Fragrance of the divine night
Grass like moss of a bed
Islands of the rivers legend
I walk in prayer
poem by Joseph Narusiewicz
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Her Old Argument
we meet as old trees with roots deep on the ground.
twigs are trunks and leaves if they fall do not come back to hang back.
do not look for meanings, they are all there already
when we meet as old trees
when we agree that we meet as old trees so there will be no
compromise that you change that i change
that we become like each other in color and perceptions
what you see is what you get, that is your oldest premise
and i jump into conclusions: i am free, you are freedom.
somewhere, i also cannot bend as you keep that bent posture
when we meet as trees old enough to understand the spread of
our respective roots.
'you cannot change me, you can only love me' your ending statement.
' i give up the search for the idea, i stay put' my conclusion.
The pavement is so dry. There is no rain. I hear nothing.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Paying Tribute To Depression
you grow seeds of sorrow
on the earthen pots
i don't know if you grow them for me
so i may see what buds what flowers
have sorrows
days and years
they have become trees of your depression
i have seen how you thank
each leaf and twig
for all the poems spread to the winds
of change to the fields of time
filling in each space each furrow
each empty interstices in your marrow
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Lords Glory
clap your hands and praise the lord
clap your hands and sing a song.
give thanks and praise to the one above
he has given and shown us love.
when we are down and out
he picks us up and makes us shout.
all that he asks is that we praise his name
and the change in our lives will never be the same
give of yourself all that you can give
for a better life to live.
we must live in a world where there is no fear
and the lords word is everywhere.
where people learn to respect, instead of neglect
all that god created.
this is the way it was meant to be
to live with respect and dignity.
we must praise the lords glory
and spread the word of his story.
poem by Louis Rams
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Late October In Ireland
The leaves from the trees are beginning to fall
And the caterpillar seeks a crack in the wall
The month of October is slipping away
And Winter comes closer with each passing day.
The garden flowers have disappeared from the lawn
And the salmon are moving up river to spawn
And the days getting shorter and the nights growing long
And the thrushes and finches no longer in song.
The rain fall in drizzle from sky gloomy gray
And cattle in wet pasture are bellowing for hay
And farmer depressed for the Winter he fear
And fodder quite scarce due to very wet year.
Hedgerows lose their colour as winds strip them bare
And Winter approaching 'the signs everywhere'
And grass growth almost ended and grass not so green
And wildflowers disappearing and few to be seen.
The wind blowing colder and the river in flood
And the water bank high flow the colour of mud
Late October in Ireland and Winter so near
And song birds grown silent and weather severe.
poem by Francis Duggan
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The Tree, the Vine and the Grass
The tree said to the grass, Is it your contentment
To be just at my foot, remain under my shade
Why don't you do as I, my aims are very high
I want to reach the moon and the stars in the sky
With far reaching vision, I stand in dignity
Stand out for the rest of the forest to see
Oh yes, oh yes, my friend, said the vine to the grass
Why do you not aim high, just like the two of us
My stance is upright, reaching high altitudes
I can stand side by side with any tree I choose
Unlike you who remain earthbound without a choice
To you my friend, a tree, I do not want to be
equal to you in height, low I would rather be
For the law of nature, I clearly remember
You stand the higher, you will fall the harder
I do not aim for things I know I would not reach
Earthbound I chose to be, than fail in my attempts
To you my friend, a vine, here's what I have to say
Stand I won't if on borrowed stability
On the arms of a friend you just cling and depend
You cannot stand alone, own strength you do not have
When I pause to reckon and try to look around
In the world of humans, the likes of you abound
They cling to anyone who has money and might
As you cling to the tiniest twig or biggest branch
Wanting not to be low, not to be trampled at
Then a hurricane came with its wind blowing wild
It uprooted the vine, the tree fell to the ground
And there they lay in waste, under the sun they died
The grass is still there, flourishing and alive
poem by Pacific Hernandez
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The Future
Quiet gold locks of butter fields
I walk on velvet praise
Your mind has portals
Groves of earnest tears
Do you peak at the fall sorrow
Blue birds have joined my secrets
Hope is a fragile wing
Parables like leaves of red skies
Beauty is free yet sublime
References are gone
We are on our own
Love is a master of disguise
Every forest has love
Today love touched me
Darling you are a hurt river
Flowing like a wound
I know because secrets fly
They gracefully land on trees
When ever we look back we cry
When ever we hold on we die
Will you visit my grave one time
The future isn't that easy
poem by Joseph Narusiewicz
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Roots Bloody Roots
Roots Bloody Roots
Roots Bloody Roots
Roots Bloody Roots
Roots Bloody Roooaaaaaahh
I believe
In Our Fate
We Don't Need To Fake
It's All We Wanna Be
Watch Me Freeeaaak !!
I Say
We're Growing Every Day
Getting Stronger In Every Way
I'll Take You To A Place
Where We Shall Find Our
Roots Bloody Roots
Roots Bloody Roots
Roots Bloody Roots
Roots Bloody Roots
Rain
Bring Me The Strength
Is Breeding Me This Way
To Get To Another Day
And All I Want To See
Set Us Free
Why
Can't You See
Can't You Feel
This Is Real
Ahhh
I Pray
We Don't Need To Change
Our Ways To Be Saved
That All We Wanna Be
Watch Us Freak
song performed by by Sepultura
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Lament of the Frontier Guard
By the North Gate, the wind blows full of sand,
Lonely from the beginning of time until now!
Trees rail, the grass goes yellow with autumn.
I climb the towers and towers
to watch out the barbarous land:
Desolate castle, the sky, the wide desert.
There is no wall left to this village.
Bones white with a thousand frosts,
High heaps, covered with trees and grass;
Who brought this to pass?
Who has brought the flaming imperial anger?
Who has brought the army with drums and with kettle-drums?
Barbarous kings.
A gracious spring, turned to blood-ravenous autumn,
A turmoil of wars-men, spread over the middle kingdom,
Three hundred and sixty thousand,
And sorrow, sorrow like rain.
Sorrow to go, and sorrow, sorrow returning.
Desolate, desolate fields,
And no children of warfare upon them,
No longer the men for offence and defence.
Ah, how shall you know the dreary sorrow at the North Gate,
With Rihaku's name forgotten,
And we guardsmen fed to the tigers.