Getting Out From Time
mechanically all that the fingers do
is take off the watch
from the wrist
put it on the computer table
turn off
the switch and
rest
what choice have these fingers
when the spinal column begins to sound
the aching bells?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Related quotes
I See You in Your Fingers
I see your fingers
I see you in your fingers
I see your history from your fingers
I feel your touch from your fingers
They don't tell a lie to me
They don't give me a fake smile
Or promising kiss
But they give me a warm hold
and tickling touch
I see you from your fingers
I see the truth from your fingers
I see you in your fingers
poem by Maria Sudibyo
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Frenzied Fingers Run Amuck
When I get you into my arms
I can't control the things that I do.
Fingers grab the hair on your head.
Fingers caress the small of your back.
Fingers travel down your spine
and back up again.
Fingers reach to all corners of your being,
quietly unnoticed at first,
but more frenzied with passing time.
Wild fingers travel your soul
with frenzied action that is hard to stop.
Uncontrollable fingers run wild
until you beg them to stop.
But even then, there's no counting on it.
These fingers like to run wild.
Whenever I place my fingers on you,
frenzied fingers run amuck.
Blank, Numb, Floating
it is 1: 55 a.m.
i hear the rain falling
she is fast asleep tired of the demands of her day
i leave her and she takes the pillow for me
i turn on the light
and see this room of books and paperworks
i turn on the computer
i am feeling nothing and i am floating like i am but a spirit
i am numb and i am feeling so dumb
i see this blank wall
i am feeling so empty
i look at her again
she utters words in her sleep and i will not wake her up
i lay my hands on the keys
run my fingers on some letters
there is nothing to write
in particular but there is something to run my fingers on
this feeling
this attempt to imitate the sound of the rain in letters
to put the motion of the rain to put its smell
to be wet and to have the rain run over me
all over me all over me all over me all over me
blank, numb, floating and wet
this is the poem now
at 2: 03 a.m.
it has gained finally this form
and scent and motion and color
that you have never seen
or felt the way
i do.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Unheard Music
Unheard Music (Mozart)
The fingers on my left hand move all by themselves
like they are playing piano that produces music
I cannot hear. I watch my fingers play but it makes no
sense so I try to stop by holding them still with my
right hand’s fingers. So I sit like a vicar contemplating
the Sunday sermon, a mild one who hasn’t an arsenal
of fire and brimstone speeches, but would rather talk
about the coming spring. My wife brings me a glass of
water and a pill, fingers rest, but I would liked to have
heard the music they played, for all I know it could
have been music brought to me in a dream by Mozart
who died so young that he can’t believe it yet, and
tries trough, me to play his latest masterpiece.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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Pinball Wizard
Local lad:
Ever since I was a young boy,
Ive played the silver ball.
Ever since I was a young boy,
>from soho down to brighton
Ive played the silver ball.
I must have played them all.
]from soho down to brighton
But I aint seen nothing like him
I must have played them all.
In any amusement hall...
But I aint seen nothing like him
That deaf dumb and blind kid
In any amusement hall...
Sure plays a mean pin ball !
That deaf dumb and blind kid
Sure plays a mean pin ball !
He stands like a statue,
Becomes part of the machine.
He stands like a statue,
Feeling all the bumpers
Becomes part of the machine.
Always playing clean.
Feeling all the bumpers
He plays by intuition,
Always playing clean.
The digit counters fall.
He plays by intuition,
That deaf dumb and blind kid
The digit counters fall.
Sure plays a mean pin ball !
That deaf dumb and blind kid
Sure plays a mean pin ball !
Hes a pin ball wizard
There has got to be a twist.
Hes a pin ball wizard
A pin ball wizard,
There has got to be a twist.
Sgot such a supple wrist.
A pin ball wizard,
Sgot such a supple wrist.
how do you think he does it? I dont know!
What makes him so good?
how do you think he does it? I dont know!
What makes him so good?
He aint got no distractions
Cant hear those buzzers and bells,
He aint got no distractions
Dont see lights a flashin
Cant hear those buzzers and bells,
Plays by sense of smell.
Dont see lights a flashin
Always has a replay,
Plays by sense of smell.
n never tilts at all...
Always has a replay,
That deaf dumb and blind kid
n never tilts at all...
Sure plays a mean pin ball.
That deaf dumb and blind kid
Sure plays a mean pin ball.
I thought I was
The bally table king.
I thought I was
But I just handed
The bally table king.
My pin ball crown to him.
But I just handed
My pin ball crown to him.
Even on my favorite table
He can beat my best.
Even my usual table
His disciples lead him in
He can beat my best.
And he just does the rest.
His disciples lead him in
Hes got crazy flipper fingers
And he just does the rest.
Never seen him fall...
Hes got crazy flipper fingers
That deaf dumb and blind kind
Never seen him fall...
Sure plays a mean pin ball.!!!!!
That deaf dumb and blind kind
Sure plays a mean pin ball.!!!!!
song performed by by Who
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Slippin' Through My Fingers
Schoolbag in hand, she leaves home in the early morning
Waving goodbye with an absent-minded smile
I watch her go with a surge of that well-known sadness
And I have to sit down for a while
The feeling that I'm losing her forever
And without really entering her world
I'm glad whenever I can share her laughter
That funny little girl
Slipping through my fingers all the time
I try to capture every minute
The feeling in it
Slipping through my fingers all the time
Do I really see what's in her mind
Each time I think I'm close to knowing
She keeps on growing
Slipping through my fingers all the time
Sleep in our eyes, her and me at the breakfast table
Barely awake, I let precious time go by
Then when she's gone there's that odd melancholy feeling
And a sense of guilt I can't deny
What happened to the wonderful adventures
The places I had planned for us to go
(Slipping through my fingers all the time)
Well, some of that we did but most we didn't
And why I just don't know
Slipping through my fingers all the time
I try to capture every minute
The feeling in it
Slipping through my fingers all the time
Do I really see what's in her mind
Each time I think I'm close to knowing
She keeps on growing
Slipping through my fingers all the time
Sometimes I wish that I could freeze the picture
And save it from the funny tricks of time
Slipping through my fingers...
Slipping through my fingers all the time
Schoolbag in hand she leaves home in the early morning
Waving goodbye with an absent-minded smile
song performed by by ABBA
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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United In Pain
my fingers
are not mine anymore
they are running
out of control
i do not wish
to write some more
to infuriate you
but my hands are
rebels
coming out from
my arms
into their
fingers
writing these
lines
i am detached
severed
from the rest of my
parts
i have no more control
about
destiny in the making
birds of blue
feathers
are coming out
from my mouth
and they are not
coming back
my fingers are
automatons
writing now on
their own
i am not
responsible for your
anger
i am a useless man
and my fingers
are not mine anymore
my C5 chokes a nerve
i am numb
my fingers are at war
against
each other now
thoughts converge
without much meaning
united
in pain.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Slipping Through My Fingers
Schoolbag in hand, she leaves home in the early morning
Waving goodbye with an absent-minded smile
I watch her go with a surge of that well-known sadness
And I have to sit down for a while
The feeling that Im losing her forever
And without really entering her world
Im glad whenever I can share her laughter
That funny little girl
Slipping through my fingers all the time
I try to capture every minute
The feeling in it
Slipping through my fingers all the time
Do I really see whats in her mind
Each time I think Im close to knowing
She keeps on growing
Slipping through my fingers all the time
Sleep in our eyes, her and me at the breakfast table
Barely awake, I let precious time go by
Then when shes gone theres that odd melancholy feeling
And a sense of guilt I cant deny
What happened to the wonderful adventures
The places I had planned for us to go
(slipping through my fingers all the time)
Well, some of that we did but most we didnt
And why I just dont know
Slipping through my fingers all the time
I try to capture every minute
The feeling in it
Slipping through my fingers all the time
Do I really see whats in her mind
Each time I think Im close to knowing
She keeps on growing
Slipping through my fingers all the time
Sometimes I wish that I could freeze the picture
And save it from the funny tricks of time
Slipping through my fingers...
Slipping through my fingers all the time
Schoolbag in hand she leaves home in the early morning
Waving goodbye with an absent-minded smile...
song performed by by ABBA
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Girl with the Croissant.
You watch the way the girl
Pulls apart the croissant with
Her slim fingers and licks each
Finger in turn sucking on each
With the passion of one making
Love and yet as she pulls it apart
There is that slowness oh that
Deliberate tearing open as if she
Were now opening herself for her
Latest lover as her fingers pull and
Her eyes gaze and her tongue licks
The corners of her soft mouth to
Catch escaping crumbs as if they
Were the juices of her lover’s sperm
Then she turns her head and sees
Your stare and you just wishing you
Was the croissant in her fingers there.
poem by Terry Collett
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While Posing.
Mr Clementon says to sit
and wait and pose and you
sit as told and watch as he
prepares the easel and sorts
his brushes and paints and
all the while he sings in a soft
humming undertone his focus
on his task and not at all on you
and you watch and see how slim
his fingers are and not at all like
most men’s fingers are and his
hands are white and his face now
turned to you is shaved clean and
unblemished like a baby’s skin
and you think how soft it must
be to be close to him and sense
his flesh on yours and try and keep
your head still Molly he says firmly
bringing you down to earth and
drawing you from your thoughts
I need you to sit still and not move
unless I say and he begins and his
eyes move from you to the canvas
and back to you again and outside
the window the beginning of rain.
poem by Terry Collett
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Long Long Way To Go
While I sit here trying to think of things to say
Someone lies bleeding in a field somewhere
So it would seem weve still got a long long way to go
Ive seen all I wanna see today
While I sit here trying to move you anyway I can
Someones son lies dead in a gutter somewhere
And it would seem that weve got a long long way to go
But I cant take it anymore
Turn it off if you want to
Switch it off it will go away
Turn it off if you want to
Switch it off or look away
While I sit and we talk and talk and we talk some more
Someones loved ones heart stops beating in a street somewhere
So it would seem weve still got a long long way to go, I know
Ive heard all I wanna hear today
Turn it off if you want to (turn it off if you want to)
Switch it off it will go away (switch it off it will go away)
Turn it off if you want to (turn it off if you want to)
Switch it off or look away (switch it off or look away)
Switch it off
Turn it off
song performed by by Phil Collins
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Bows & Bangles
Born and raised in wilderness
Of suburban shops and schools
How she tried and tried to be satisfied
With a job on the typing pool
She hated the smell of carbon paper
The office so smoky and dry
How she longed for the day she would make her get away
And say her last goodbye
Bows and bangles on her fingers
And silver bells on her toes
That lady has music where she wonders
That lady has music where she goes
Married a guy with prospects
And so became his wife
And that my friend is the end of the story
cos that was the rest of his life
She could have been a movie star
She could have made the scene
Right or wrong she still hangs on
Each night to her favourite dream
Bows and bangles on her fingers
And silver bells on her toes
That lady has music where she wonders
That lady has music where she goes
song performed by by Chris Rea
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Bows And Bangles
Born and raised in wilderness
Of suburban shops and schools
How she tried and tried to be satisfied
With a job on the typing pool
She hated the smell of carbon paper
The office so smoky and dry
How she longed for the day she would make her get away
And say her last goodbye
Bows and bangles on her fingers
And silver bells on her toes
That lady has music where she wonders
That lady has music where she goes
Married a guy with prospects
And so became his wife
And that my friend is the end of the story
'Cos that was the rest of his life
She could have been a movie star
She could have made the scene
Right or wrong she still hangs on
Each night to her favourite dream
Bows and bangles on her fingers
And silver bells on her toes
That lady has music where she wonders
That lady has music where she goes
song performed by by Chris Rea
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Fingers Of Love
Can you imagine this
An itch to sensitive to scratch
The light that falls through the cracks
An insect to delicate to catch
I hear the endless murmur
Every blade of grass that shivers in the breeze
And the sound that comes to carry me
Across the land and over the sea
And I can't look up
Fingers of love move down
And I can't look back
Fingers of love move down
Colour is its own reward
Colour is its own reward
The chiming of a perfect chord
Let's go jumping overboard
Into waves of joy and clarity
Your hands come out to rescue me
And I'm playing in the shallow water
Laughing while the mad dog sleeps
And I can't look up
Fingers of love move down
And I won't be hit
Fingers of love move everywhere
There is time yet
Fall by the way
From the cradle to the grave
From a palace to the gutter
From beneath the dying waves
To the sun like fingers of love
Through waves of joy and clarity
A fallen angel walked on the sea
And I'm playing in the shallow water
Laughing while the mad dog sleeps
And I can't look up
Fingers of love move down
And I won't be hit
Fingers of love move everywhere
There is time yet
For you to find me
And all I want
Fingers of love move down
song performed by by Crowded House
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Wrist Watch Man
He is marching dusty highways and he's riding bitter trails,
His eyes are clear and shining and his muscles hard as nails.
He is wearing Yankee khaki and a healthy coat of tan,
And the chap that we are backing is the Wrist Watch Man.
He's no parlour dude, a-prancing, he's no puny pacifist,
And it's not for affectation there's a watch upon his wrist.
He's a fine two-fisted scrapper, he is pure American,
And the backbone of the nation is the Wrist Watch Man.
He is marching with a rifle, he is digging in a trench,
He is swapping English phrases with a poilu for his French;
You will find him in the navy doing anything he can,
For at every post of duty is the Wrist Watch Man.
Oh, the time was that we chuckled at the soft and flabby chap
Who wore a little wrist watch that was fastened with a strap.
But the chuckles all have vanished, and with glory now we scan
The courage and the splendor of the Wrist Watch Man.
He is not the man we laughed at, not the one who won our jeers,
He's the man that we are proud of, he's the man that owns our cheers;
He's the finest of the finest, he's the bravest of the clan,
And I pray for God's protection for our Wrist Watch Man.
poem by Edgar Albert Guest
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Serenity
inside the mall
with so many people
you are part
of this senseless
crowd
you turn off
a switch
somewhere
first it becomes
soundless
then you
changed
adjusted the
colors
to black and
white
and then
you sit there
on the table
and watch
everything
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Garden Lady
Her fingers long and slender
As to the rest of her
Wonder how such frailty could, labor
Seen with dirt under nails
Her drive is a better world
She has gone further
Than just a frail young woman
Her fingers long and slender
With the smell of future flowers
Soon will give you much to see
Exceeding your garden needs
The plants she sows
They are hardy
They will grow
Through heat
Through neglect
She will give you what you expect
And tell you not to neglect
Keeping them alive is nothing new
Seedlings comming through
In a secret garden
Away from the cruel....
She holds a thornless rose
Timeless and fragile
Pretty and pink
With other pastel inks
The blossoming is forever
In her heart
A model for all to know
For no other could grow
Another season begins
Life lush and green
That is her nature
Fingers long and slender
poem by Howard Johnson
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All In All I Know
When I asked myself the other day I came to realise I'm not ok
I've burned my fingers bad before I've seen myself through worse I'm sure
But just the same I'm really not ok
Oh how I wish that I could sleep
I try but won't just sink that deep
My fingers won't stop aching so tired yet awaken
Or should I let it all loose and just weep
I've been pacing up and down my floors I have lost all sense of time
I sometimes halt and ask myself if I'm about to loose my mind
All in all I know ::
From when I get up way past lunch time I keep on asking myself
If when the night falls hard on all I'm up to pace around again
All in all I know ::
song performed by by Quorthon
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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With Hope We Build
With hope we build our own
fingers into mission light.
Our temple fingers steeple form
to reaffirm prayer light.
Only our fingers when humanity
needs salvation hand?
Prayer our fingers steeple pray
peace earth wide in every land.
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Just When I Thought I'd Seen It All
OK I know it's a liitle early
For Christmas poems
But the catalogues have been coming
By mail for weeks
So I'll keep this short
For those of you or
People on your shopping list
Who still have self-winding watches
Wrist that is
That need help getting wound
It's hard to believe
But they have come up with a cure
This machine $100 to $200
Holds one or up to four
Wrist watches - - - at last count
I only needed one
If you haven't had enough activity
During the day
To get your watch wound
It will do it for you while you rest
However if you can't get your watch to go
I can't see why you'd need more rest
I cut the advertisement out
So I can look at it
From time to time
And remember when
At 11: 02 - - mail was early that day
I saw it all
poem by Tom J. Mariani
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