Giving the carabao feelings of wings
The carabaos are grazing again
It is summer and
The white herons are teeming
On the green fields
Some take the usual sight
Of friendship
The white heron on top
Of the carabao’s back
They are so close I wonder
If there is this familiarity
Between them
Their friendship has lasted
For centuries
They say the white herons
Feed on carabao's lice
And to repay the kindness
The carabao gives the bird
Its free ground ride
I disagree totally
There is no pecking that I see
And there is no distance
Whatsoever that the carabao gives
This is friendship, this is a picture
Of friendship, the heron is giving
The carabao the feel of its white wings.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Related quotes
It Is So Common
a common plague
here
how a fly
hovering on
a carabao's back
now behaves
and feels like that
big black
carabao itself?
not uncommon
yet everyone
speaks to no one
about
this discrepancy
as the carabao grazes
on the pastureland
stupidly
as usual
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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319
a common plague
here
how a fly
hovering on
a carabao's back
now behaves
and feels like that
big black
carabao itself?
not uncommon
yet everyone
speaks to no one
about
this discrepancy
as the carabao grazes
on the pastureland
stupidly
as usual
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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A fly that lands on a carabao feels itself to be higher than the carabao.
Paco De Lucia In Guitar Strings
the guitar strings of paco de lucia
are not new to me
the sound of his spanish guitar
strumming on my mind
they were with me
in my childhood
with my friends
we get a smooth
long and strong
coconut palm
take it on top
of a hill
covered with green
carabao grass
and we ride
on the palm
slide it
on the hill
and
yehey
yehehey
yehey yehey
we laugh
so hard
my little
brown friends
that
the foreign
white visitors
call monkeys
we take
the coconut palm
on top of the hill
we ride on it
and we slide
on the
hill
green
with
carabao grass
grass
yehey
yehehey
yehey
we tumble
and roll
when we
reach the
foot of the hill
covered with
green
carabao
grass
we
crash
there may
be some bruises
on our arms
and
legs
but we
laugh
we enjoy
the sliding
the falling
the crashing
on the green
green
carabao
grass
we
crash
yehey
yehehey
yehehey
we are
the happy
little brown
monkeys
yehey
yehehey
yehey
we are
happy.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The White Herons And The Black Buffaloes
the harvest season is over
the women had gone to their homes
with their men and children
around the table of wood
dinner of fish and rice
the family eats as one
how close can a family be
in love and friendship
last night the rain poured heavily again
flooding the rice fields
this early morning before the sun rises
the black buffaloes graze and
then wade in the muddy waters
above their heads the white herons are flying low
gracefully hovering and landing
at their backs
some stand beside their thick skins
pecking for lice
how close can these creatures be
on friendship consistently
symbiotically designed
by nature's hands
sometimes i wish
we can be like all these
on a friendship without vested interest
on love platonic
in sickness and in health
......
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Reality...two
three well covered farmers
plow the rice fields
beating the carabao
under a drizzle of soft rain
this november
at the right side of this scenery
a herd of carabaos graze
vast expanse of grass and
beside them two children flying kites.
on the telephone wire
two finches watch
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Farmer and His Carabao
Sitting on a saddle-like mounted stones,
Watching the river runs gently yonder,
Wondrous, countless, tiny whirlpools,
Sublimely caught his eyes to ponder;
Alone, he sees, he hears nothing but
To himself as high as the bird flown,
To charcoaled stem of a dead tree, it sat,
Mimicked all noises if he had not known;
Under that tree, his carabao rests in a paddle,
Snorting and snoozing on his muddy cradle,
But his master came to drag him out again,
So he rose without a splash of complain.
Back and forth, he and his master worked on,
To an acre of land that this man only owned,
As they labored together, time didn’t matter,
‘Till the summons of the night ruled thereafter.
Like a glowing star afar from the moonlight spot,
A kerosene lamp lit by the window of cogon hut,
While the son’s fueling a kiln to steam a pot of rice,
The farmer and his carabao made home without sighs.
poem by Efren Petalver Carranza
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Friendship
Friendship
Friendship is love,
Without friendship love means nothing!
Without friendship love is empty…
Without friendship love is boring...!
Friendship means sharing…
People learn to share from friendship,
Share everything they have in life,
Friendship is like stars,
Even though we always see them together
Always mean to each other…
But,
Sometimes they argue!
Friendship is like flower,
Soft but strong!
Friendship is like sun,
Bright and beautiful!
Friendship is everything in life,
Life without friendship is like life without air…
Life without friendship is like eats without food
And
Life without friendship is like body without soul…
Friendship is wide!
Anybody can be our friend,
Our parents, our grandparents, our sister, our brother and even our school principal!
Friendship….
Is everything!
poem by Qistina Zaini
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Plain Citizen Juan De La Cruz
he thinks he is part of the government,
correct,
he is part of the people whom the government taxed
taking his money
and later some of his property, his chicken, his pig, his carabao
his plow,
then the government enters into war
plain juan de la cruz becomes the soldier
killing another soldier
in the killing fields in the mine fields he will soon lose his arm
if not both his feet
plain juan de la cruz
then the rebels come, the insurgents, the belligerents
juan de la cruz is not in his house
his wife and children are now the pawns
the victims
the servants
the wife cooks for the comrades the child runs to the nearby store
to buy cigarettes and liquour
then they too will ask for the chicken, the pigs, the carabao,
the rice and some vegetables and beans and
a little money to support their cause
plain juan de la cruz
plain citizen, will he survive the war on both sides?
let us have a sandwich
for a metaphor, this poem looks like it,
plain de la cruz is in between
and he has no choice.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Existences
Fenced carabaos of this Agricultural college Thrive on limited spread of grass Man-made They look forward To angles and rows of green hills and valley And clear flowing creeks To the other side The white herons, (wild ducks, sparrows, and mayas)
Fly above trees and (daffodils) And land on paddies with flecks Of surface mud fishes and tadpoles and mosquito larvae
I see The sparrows rest In flocks Lining up On electric cables Or Power Lines Watching army Worms and golden shells (kuhol) etching slowly, eating green greedily On rice and grass stalks
An owl hovers (the late owl, where was it last night?) On the island of twigs On an old mango tree (balding & ugly & dying)
No wonder The white herons (about twenty in all, I counted them patiently on digital cam) taunt The carabaos (muddy and thin as grasses were cut and cleaned by ROTC cadettes on Sundays, I can’t rationalize why the grass population be reduced) fenced On a limited supply of Manmade grass and Growth controlled
They wing finally when I got near them Lightly like blown leaves
This February wind And land on Carabaos’ backs Gleaning for lice Feasting on some pecking and swallowing & pecking again
Thriving on carabaos’ Hairs and skin some creatures though still
On the other side of the landscape A thin brown, woman With a buri hat And a rattan basket on one hand and a sack on the other Leans over A dry ricefield Gleaning for leftovers of palay
Beside her but not that really near The man drives the white herons Away to the other side of the island of banana trunks
Then he goes to the carabaos Their wet noses tied to an abaca roof and tied again to the cemented posts of this accredited agricultural college spreading about two hectares of stupidity
The questions about lice and herons and carabaos and grasses
And golden snails, tadpoles and mud fishes and sparrows died
The lice are free Feeding away from The eating white herons
They have flown away since then to the other side of my world
By now the flock of Sparrows On the electric cables or power lines Wing their way To a farther town as I leave them fast for lack of time for shortness of serendipity for lack of interest
There are pebbles inside my shoes.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Happy Friendship Day,2011
Good friendship is important in earthly life
True friendship is a rare find, lasting a life-time
Friendship is supportive, wholesome and priceless
Friendship must grow but is difficult to keep.
Friendship affords joy, solace and distraction
Friendship gives a better meaning to life
Friendship may deliver what parents sometimes fail to
Friendship is valuable, useful and advantageous.
Friendship makes the world a better place to live
Friendship makes living worthwhile, loveable and liveable
Friendship creates the right environs for sharing
The basis of good friendship is selfless, dedicated love of a special kind.
(7-8-11)
poem by John Celes
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The Simple life I live
An afternoon walk
Seeing the white birds again
On these green ricefields
And the carabaos wallowing
Refreshing their skins in mud holes
It is the beginning of the
Planting season again
The weeds are uprooted
The plows run again
To make this land arable
The rain comes and too
The sun and the wind
The hills are greener
The trees are blooming
And so are the flowers
Along the footpaths
My dog walks with me
And his friend dog too walks with us
The wind so cool touches my face
The man nearby pastures his carabao
The woman washes some clothes in the river
The waters are still clear reflecting bluer skies
There are no sounds of buses in here
Far from the city in this little village
Where people are still innocent about greed
And grief and self-made confusions
The complications, the sophistications
I can live on a cup of rice, this mudfish,
This glass of water from the rock’s spring
This big banana leaf on my head
And the moon above everything else
And some stars lighting this lovely darkness
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Excerpt: The Magma
the natives are smelling so badly
saliva dries on their lips
they rub carabao manure on their bodies
and put
a dead beetle on their navels
there is no water in the river where they come from
it was taken by thirsty fish towards the
China sea
they are thin
i mean their children who only eat
buds of
the guava tree
their stomachs are filled with air
their
hairs with lice
i guess you know when this happens
and why this happens
because, it is fiesta time
and there is no more road for us to use
because the more important figures
are busy playing
deaf.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Green Ricefields
green ricefields spreading to a distance
some white herons circling and landing finding a hiding place
for a while gone and then the wind comes from the trees swaying
the white herons in a flock of fives fly away again
to another rectangular spread of a green ricefield
a scarecrow stands in the middle of the place
the clouds arrive turning from pale to grey to blue
the sun has come in full grandeur
i am just amazed, sitting on a bench praying
simply watching and wondering
they all say that i am lazy and doing nothing
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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True Friendship
Regardless of the relationship
Having a strong friendship
Should be the base of it
Lucy and Nenita you guys
Are an awesome fit
No matter the distance
You two I will never forget
Years have gone by
My how time flys
I have always thought
Of our goodbyes
As long hellos
Because our friendship
Runs deep in my soul
Your friendship is such a treasure
Real friendship is not easy to come by
Even if you try
One can learn much
From the Redwood trees
You see how tall
That the tree grows
Towering above the ground
But beneath it
The roots are joined together
Strong forever
I wish that I
Could show you my heart
Then you would
Be able see
Your special spot
For now my words
Are all I've got
Always believe
What you mean to me
Our friendship will
Always Be
poem by Tameeka Smith
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I Stopped In The Green Rice Field
they pass me by
and they did not notice
how i stop my walk
and
feasted on the white heron
on tall yellow legs
my eyes in wonder
the beauty without
my spirit has wings
lifted to the flight of the white
wings of that bird,
so light, so swift, so free.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Invincible Giant
i am a giant
not a silly cyclop
i have two beautiful eyes
two moons
you are pygmies
ants
am a carabao
i am a tower
of light
you are boat abducted
by a storm
i am a rock
you are the rain
with all these
i only speak
i do not touch you
i only whisper
i am all these
but you shall never see
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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remembering J.
TWO kids on the side
of the river
and there was a big boulder
sort of the Rock
on the other side
in between is a deep dark
portion and they swam toward
the other side
climb the steep stone
and on wet hair and
dripping waters from their
skins
they bask under the sun
and feel all the warmth
of that friendship
above their heads the white herons
pass by
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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A Friendship Is But A Flower
A friendship is but a flower
Growing out in Gods garden
Helping out the fellow man
Not knowing should they get a pardon
A friendship is but a flower
Waiting to bloom in the spring
Waiting with a helping hand or an ear
To help or listen to most any ol thing
A friendship is but a flower
That God lends to us for a while
To help us along our way
And give us a reason for a smile
A friendship is but a flower
Leaving impressions on our hearts
Never knowing when it might end
But, always happy to see it start
A friendship is but a flower
Sent with guidance from above
The friendship must be based on trust
But, like the flower, it's started with Gods love
Friendship is but a flower
Sent down for all of us to share
So pass on your bit of friendship
Show someone just how much you care
A friendship is but a flower
And this friendship I pass on to you
So please take my flower and friendship
So you can pass it on to others too
wrote 3/3/2009 by Norman Hale Jr
poem by Norman Hale
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Frozen in Summer
Sunlight never warm my back
i was lied with shine it reflects
Sun shy hiding behind white clouds
Whisper a spell, calling for thunders
blazoned arrows hit the ground
Still not warm on my back
This skin, summer never lay
I kept frozen in May
but all of sudden
i wonder what is happen
Heat slowly being felt
I'm going to melt
In heart, friend like u reside
Frozen outside warmer inside
Honest and respect all collide
this warm because of u beside
In this summer we meet
water a seed of friendship with greet
care with honest sight
Delete the word of fight
then it glows like stars at night
: : : : : : : : : : : : Theme: Friendship/relationship: : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : :
poem by Unwritten Soul
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