Fun
as age
increases its creases
like a convoluted species
of the brain
fun rewrites itself
in some straight lines
shunning curves
and crooked edges.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
It's kind of like trying to make straight lines from curves, but involving shapes that sort of dictate what the curves are, if you like, and the difference between two separate pieces creates a third transitional piece if you like.
quote by Sean Booth
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Blame The Weather
When your loves flown out the window,
And the pain comes through the door.
Once again youve missed the boat,
And youre stranded on the shore.
And you find out that what you had,
Was never yours at all,
Friends and lovers that you knew so well,
Will never take your calls.
So,
You blame the weather,
Oh-oh,
Blame the weather,
Oh-oh,
Blame the weather,
Oh-oh
Cant you see youre in your prime?
Youre turning creases into lines.
If you play the game
Youve got to be prepared to take a knock,
You get put down so many times,
But you keep on getting up.
So put your tears away,
And dont forget to worry is a crime,
Nothing bears thinking about too much,
Youll be old before your time.
So,
You blame the weather,
Oh-oh,
Blame the weather,
Oh-oh,
Blame the weather,
Oh-oh
Cant you see youre in your prime?
Youre turning creases into lines.
The pool of tears you left to drown in,
The helping hands that never came,
The years you lost out to another,
All up in flames
So,
You blame the weather,
Oh-oh,
Blame the weather,
Oh-oh,
Blame the weather,
Oh-oh
Cant you see youre in your prime?
Youre turning creases into lines.
song performed by by Xtc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Blame The Weather
When your loves flown out the window,
And the pain comes through the door.
Once again youve missed the boat,
And youre stranded on the shore.
And you find out that what you had,
Was never yours at all,
Friends and lovers that you knew so well,
Will never take your calls.
So,
You blame the weather,
Oh-oh,
Blame the weather,
Oh-oh,
Blame the weather,
Oh-oh
Cant you see youre in your prime?
Youre turning creases into lines.
If you play the game
Youve got to be prepared to take a knock,
You get put down so many times,
But you keep on getting up.
So put your tears away,
And dont forget to worry is a crime,
Nothing bears thinking about too much,
Youll be old before your time.
So,
You blame the weather,
Oh-oh,
Blame the weather,
Oh-oh,
Blame the weather,
Oh-oh
Cant you see youre in your prime?
Youre turning creases into lines.
The pool of tears you left to drown in,
The helping hands that never came,
The years you lost out to another,
All up in flames
So,
You blame the weather,
Oh-oh,
Blame the weather,
Oh-oh,
Blame the weather,
Oh-oh
Cant you see youre in your prime?
Youre turning creases into lines.
song performed by by Xtc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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And then the paper is dirty
You start with a clean sheet of paper
Write some words, scribble, draw some lines
Some curves, sharp lines, tangent to bold
Lines, and rough sketches of faces and
Bodies, thin lines that get crooked from
End to end of this limited space,
You doodle, you get wild with so
Many lines unimaginable, senseless,
The paper finally looks dirty,
And you do not like it, you crumple
It and throw it in a waste basket,
You get another clean sheet,
And this time, you think what is
It really that you want to make
Out of this new clean sheet of paper.
You think, you ponder, and you need
More time this time not to waste
This clean, glossy sheet of paper.
I think you are doing well with your life.
You see you are supposed to be careful
Every word is delicate and every paper
Is actually accounted.
Never mind guilt, set it aside for a while.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Crooked
Crooked.
There is nothing straight about it.
There is nothing in the eyes,
Or the face that projects...
An honesty that's been sewned,
For an expected harvest
That reaps up rot instead of respect.
Crooked.
Like snakes with coiled tails.
Thieves bewitched like these,
Should not be speaking to appease...
With such ease.
Crooked are the hoodwinkers' comments.
And what they have done...
Should land everyone of them in jail!
Tastefully displayed...
And yet crooked are the beasts that lead.
Living in shells and crawling to prevail,
Like escargot when 'cooked'...
Are nothing more than scavenger low life snails!
Feeding on and releasing junk,
Are the crooked!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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There are many crooked lines and one straight line. Which is the line of truth? Why the straight line? Truth is always the shortest distance between two points.
quote by Sun Myung Moon
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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An Old Man Tries/ To Memorize A Few Lines
AN OLD MAN TRIES/ TO MEMORIZE A FEW LINES
An old man tries,
To memorize a few lines-
His mind is slower than it was.
Inside,
Where the old poems lie-
He writes and rewrites them.
But he knows,
His poems now are not what they were,
And he is not what he was
And the world isn’t either.
Dark days are coming
And with them Darker nights
May we have the strength
To survive them.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Pathways Of Life
i walk the
straight path and no
one noticed me,
the straight path
is the most ordinary one
you can have here
at first it was boring
when no one
notices you
so i tried the twisted
path
the one that is crooked
from bottom to
top
the old women scolded
me and the old men said
i am a
big disappointment
the men and women of my
generation
still did not mind
they are busy
taking their own paths
and these are the
paths
which are neither crooked
nor straight
sometimes we look at each
other
and we nod
without saying a word
we feel
that we perfectly understand
each other
all along
there are paths you know
which are neither wrong
nor right
they simply have to
be trodden
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Perusal
after a hard day
the day of the letters and convoluted thoughts
i glance upon the pages
of the virtues of
lust...smooth skins, beautiful lines
flowering into curves,
butts and in betweens shaved by the razor
of art, hairless
and so alluring to the hairs of my senses
my armpits giggling
my saliva excited so excited about what i can
touch in the mind of the
tired day...this is the start of selfish pleasure
so convenient
nothing to dress for
so cheap
after
it lulls me to sleep and dream
tomorrow i will be out again on a rough journey
after the pleasure
of my lone body.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Turning Point
she was taught nothing but straight lines
and her life has always been like the way she was taught
a straight one
no curves, no angles, no secants,
nothing to decant, nothing foamy, everything is settled
like some mathematical principles
solid, stoical, hard, sturdy,
devoted to nothing but study
laughter is strange
the frown is welcome, and
like a stuffed toy did she become
in one of those cabinets
she bathes in the antiquity of her silence
until she exploded, she was shattered into
concentric pieces, tangent minuscules
her mouth foamy, her eyes all too hazy
her neck strangled, and we took turns
looking at her scattered limbs.
on this turning point of her life,
the straight line travels dissolving as air
in a distance.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sometimes my plot lines are so convoluted, I get calls from friends at 3 am saying; you SOB, you'll never pull this one off.
quote by Clive Cussler
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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An Exhortation On Some Lines....
something is missing in your lines.
i regret to tell you that.
it does not speak well of yourself
or the world
or any moment, it is like a desert and all we have is space and
a horizon
there is even no wind to blow the sands away
i do not expect rain in the desert
but i could have seen a camel or a line of trucks or a
caravan
or even a Bedouin riding on his black horse with a scimitar
here i am again
in my worst self trying to tell you what to do so that you can be what you are
your lines are straight and too clean and that make them appear
dishonest
people love crooked lines and those that move in free directions
lines that are cold like the wind
and yet vibrant at night
not really dead, but simply grieving in silence for the loss of
someone so loved and missed.
i do not want you to change your lines, they are yours to
show,
i may be unfair wishing that your lines may be like mine
but mine are too sad and always sounding like a lover abandoned.
the beautiful lines are not clean.
they are imbued with our errors, erasures, blasting in our faces
like explosives
where shattered as we are on the fields of our disasters
only in a few seconds
we become silent spaces again.
mine are sad, and lonely and abandoned.
they are the only ones i have now, and so i must be compelled to
have them and love them
just the way they are.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Projection
you don't feel like talking
to myself yet i insist that we talk
things out
thresh the chaff from the grain
smoothen the edges
remove the creases
before the sun sets
you don't mind me at all
and now you are telling me
that i am angry at myself.
it is solved. You feel for me.
Now i can sleep.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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09. A Woman Waits For Me
a woman waits for me
to angle me in such a position
it clears the brain, mind
from blotches, obstructions
oiling them for prime functions
flight between the planets
decipher the lines of einstein, plato,
picasso, van gogh
i find the extra mental sphere for poem
between the seams of her wear
delicate corners, curves
that set the brain
on a different dimension
your voice, your hair, legs, bossom
a design to spearhead me
a rocket waiting to be launched
by your softness, scent, voice, gestures
my crystalised selves that come in jets and spurts
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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“great Souls Live In Crooked Bodies”
Judge not, measure not,
The greatness of a soul;
By how one looks outside
By how one speaks or acts
By home where they reside
Instead observe how you react
Should you feel shame for them
or pity should arise,
It’s that your mind is closed,
Heart wearing a disguise
Crooked faces, crooked smiles
Fool those like you and me
Crooked limbs on crooked forms
Create ill will, poorly we then see
We must offer love to one another,
For that crooked man you scorn
As God would have it is your brother
Heaven-Sent and Earth-Born
poem by Ray Lucero
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Beautiful Creases
i tried to look at the
corners of my
past,
and just like the present
there are some creases there
of life's
fabrics
and you predicted well about
what i did and what i will do
i am consistent
i do not want to change anything
the creases of the fabrics
are beautiful
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Something That Flows Away
FINALLY you tell me
you like an empty house
something minimal
all white with no curves
just straight lines
your want is small now
something that makes us close
something that shrinks
to make an intimacy
you want a house just
for the two of us
i am thinking if these thoughts
are a little bit late
my dreams are different
i am thinking of a bird-house
i am thinking of grains
i am thinking of water
something that i can leave
something that i can give
something that flows away
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Paint My Life
let me at least choose
the colors
red for love
blue for my sorrow
gray for my confusions
do not draw me in
bold strokes
for i was never brave
do give me crooked
lines
minimize the straight ones
my eyes are two moons
my feet are trees without roots
my face the sun
its rays my hair
my whole body
a driftwood
my moles be islands
my hands are branches
without leaves
praying to the sky
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Crooked Smile (song)
With your deep brown eyes
and your crooked smile
you swept me away for
quite a while when you smiled
a crooked smile
Then you came and
asked for a chance
but all I said was
How bout a dance
and then you smiled
A crooked smile
(Chorus)
Now your gone
and I'm missing you
and my broken Heart
wont be in two
when you smile
a crooked smile
Years have passed
and tears have too
but all I know
is I love you
and your smile
your crooked smile
Yesterday when you
got off the plane
you ran to my side
cuz I stood at your gate
and then you smiled
a croooked smile
You pulled me close
and said hello
but I could see
you were being mellow
til you smiled
a crooked smile
(Chorus)
now your here
and I'm loving you
and my broken heart
won't be in two
when you smile
a crooked smile
Moments passed
and memories made
And I know there ain't a better day
then when you smile
a crooked smile
Oh when you smile
my heart goes wild
poem by Jasmine Thompson
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