En.Citatepedia^®.ro

God is here....

last night i had a very sound sleep
it felt like a still pond without a fish
but only moss and stone and light

like there was a full moon
drifting among the tree tops
no ripple of the air from the winds of the sea

and i remember what i dream
no bridges and flood below this time
it was like a Chinese painting of a river and mountains behind

it was so peaceful
that i can hear the sound of the leaf falling from its branch

and i told myself
this is home,
this is heaven
and what i have been dreaming has become all too true

i now, believe,
God is here.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Windy Town

Driving home from the highland line
We done some gigs on the clyde and the tyne
They flew us in from a hamburg strip
The taste of dusseldorf still on our lips
And on the bus there is a friend of mine
We go way back to the scene of the crime
We sit up front and share a cigarette
And try to remember what we tried to forget
He say do you remember?
He say do you recall?
I say yeah I remember, oh, I remember it all
Every time that cold wind blows
Every time I hear that sound
Late night trains shunting down by the river
I remember windy town
We come so far and we move so fast
Making hay see it all go past
Round the world and round again
Up and down on that gravy train
But every time that cold wind blows
Every time I hear that sound
The east coast cross winds on the cold wet stone
I remember windy town
The freezing corners and the empty streets
The burning passion and the cold wet feet
Three tricky miles home every night
Dodging from the shadows underneath those amber light
No car for kissing and nowhere to go
Except inside each other and I loved you so
I held your face as you shivered in the rain
Girl Ill always love you and Ill love you again
Oh everytime, everytime
Every time that cold wind blows
Every time I hear that sound
Late night trains shunting down by the river
I remember windy town
Every time that cold wind blows
Every time I hear that sound
The east coast cross winds on the cold wet stone
I remember windy town

song performed by by Chris Rea
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Winter's Tail

It's winter-fall
Red skies are gleaming - oh -
Sea gulls are flying over
Swans are floatin' by
Smoking chimney-tops
Am I dreaming
Am I dreaming ...?
The nights draw in
There's silky moon up in the sky - yeah -
Children are fantisising
Grown-ups are standin' by
What a super feeling
Am I dreaming
Am I dreaming ...?
woh-woh-woh-woh
(draming)
So quiet and peaceful
Tranquil and blissful
There's a kind of magic in the air
What a truly magnificent view
A breathtaking scene
With the dreams of the world
In the palm of your hand
(draming)
A cosy fireside chat
A little this, a little that
Sound of merry laughter skippin' by
Gentle rain beatin' on my face
What an extraordinary place!
And the dream of the child
Is the hope of the man
It's all so beautiful
Like a landscape painting in the sky - yeah -
Mountains are zoomin' higher - mm -
Little girls scream an' cry
My world is spinnin' and spinnin' and spinnin'
It's unbelievable
Sends me reeling
Am I dreaming...
Am I dreaming...?
Oooh - it' a bliss.

song performed by by Queen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Visitant

1

A cloud moved close. The bulk of the wind shifted.
A tree swayed over water.
A voice said:
Stay. Stay by the slip-ooze. Stay.

Dearest tree, I said, may I rest here?
A ripple made a soft reply.
I waited, alert as a dog.
The leech clinging to a stone waited;
And the crab, the quiet breather.

2

Slow, slow as a fish she came,
Slow as a fish coming forward,
Swaying in a long wave;
Her skirts not touching a leaf,
Her white arms reaching towards me.

She came without sound,
Without brushing the wet stones,
In the soft dark of early evening,
She came,
The wind in her hair,
The moon beginning.

3

I woke in the first of morning.
Staring at a tree, I felt the pulse of a stone.

Where’s she now, I kept saying.
Where’s she now, the mountain’s downy girl?

But the bright day had no answer.
A wind stirred in a web of appleworms;
The tree, the close willow, swayed.

poem by Theodore Roethke
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A Winters Tale

Its winter-fall
Red skies are gleaming - oh -
Sea-gulls are flyin over
Swans are floatin by
Smoking chimney-tops
Am I dreaming...
Am I dreaming...?
The nights draw in
Theres a silky moon up in the sky - yeah -
Children are fantasising
Grown-ups are standin by
What a super feeling
Am I dreaming...
Am I dreaming...?
Woh-woh-woh-woh
(dreaming)
So quiet and peaceful
Tranquil and blissful
Theres a kind of magic in the air
What a truly magnificent view
A breathtaking scene
With the dreams of the world
In the palm of your hand
(dreaming)
A cosy fireside chat
A little this, a little that
Sound of merry laughter skippin by
Gentle rain beatin on my face
What an extraordinary place!
And the dreams of the child
Is the hope of the man
Its all so beautiful
Like a landscape painting in the sky - yeah -
Mountains are zoomin higher - mm -
Little girls scream an cry
My world is spinnin and spinnin and spinnin
Its unbelievable
Sends me reeling
Am I dreaming...
Am I dreaming...?
Oooh - its bliss.

song performed by by Queen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sound Of The Beating Heart!

we spend lifetimes searching
for the sound the leaf makes
turning from green to orange to red...
we spend our loving burning branches
in the shadow of the tree.
we spend our faith trying to capture,
and hold the wind for a moment...
never knowing that what we search for
is only our own being!

we are the leaf, the branches, the fire,
the tree, and the wind...
the sound, the loving, and the faith.
and yet we are nothing.

we are but a moment,
familiar taste and scent.
we are eternity,
the breath of an unknown god.

the sun has set,
stillness comes walking
across the mountains.
i listen for the voices
that have no face.
dead poets sit by a vagrant fire,
immigrants, refugees...
spinning old tales.

my friends smell like trees,
and leaves turned brown.
we cross bridges unseen,
with no destination.
and the only sound
that even god can hear...
the sound of the beating heart!

poem by Eric Cockrell
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I Could Have Told You

THAT YELLOW
SOLO LEAF floating on a very clear pond,

was it last summer?
will it really matter when someone is finally gone?

will the wind remember?
will the deep water of the pond be always true to its clarity and peace?

that yellow leaf that sank on the very clear pond on one peaceful day

will someone still remember?

i think, i will,
if i, too, shall live
longer than
you.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The moss that loves the stone

It is the moss that loves the stone
Most. No matter what or when, the
Moss somehow manages to stay
Even without a why, they say.
But the moss keeps on sticking
To the body of the stone that
Keeps its nonminding stiffness.
It is cold, it is hard, it is unfeeling
At all. It is the moss that keeps its
Love. It sticks with it, rain or shine.
It rolls with it. It stays with it even
In the desert, even it if means its
Own death. It is the moss that sticks
To the stone. It is its true lover.
In the river, the water has ordered
The moss to leave. It ordered the stone
To crush it. The moss cannot be
Removed. It covered the stone.
It is loving it whole.The stone has
Become the moss, and the stone
Is gone.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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You Told Me

I remember you reading me about
Places beyond the mountains,
Above the trees and behind rainbows-
You told me that skies turned gray here sometimes
And the sound of thunder would
Resonate throughout -
The places I used to run and hide from and
Those places where the skies would at times turn red in hue
Where the light of the sun would bear down
Upon that paranormal pond I so often spoke of-
I had told you about the world I lived in where
Few people lived and cats ran wild while
Trees grew tall to scrape the clouds as
Pink and silver as they reflected in
The course of a running stream that lead
Towards a safe place where I could hide from
That world I so feared where cars ran vicariously-
Clocks ran from nine to five in that world where
Three billion people were known to live-
That world where I had never felt safe at home.
To retreat to the land beyond the mountains and
Behind rainbows-
I told you in those rare moments when I was afraid to speak and
Fearful of everything you deemed as “real”-
I know the world in which you live is real to you and
Although this land of purity, and through my eyes
I saw as safe and majestic-
You told me this was none but a delusion-
I remember living for a short while
In your world, where guns fired, thunder clapped, cars would rush
Carelessly down boulevards and skyscrapers were built
To barely withstand rain, sleet and snow-
In desperation I spread the wings you told me did not exist-
Lifted my body and flew beyond the mountains and the rainbows and far away from
This world so overwhelming and so threatening-
You were the one who read me tales about lands beyond the mountains
And in my mind I found a place behind a rainbow-
And it didn’t matter if it was none but a delusion because-
Through my own eyes, what feels like home,
No matter where the place may be-
Is truly home to me- no matter where its destiny-
You told me the thunder would sound soon and the lightening would strike-
I told you “Never in my world” and if some day I also saw it as a “delusion”
It would not matter because I have found my safe haven here-
Alive and content in this place where I can call myself
Settled and secure,
I would never turn my head to see the rain falling upon
Skyscrapers and cars breaking down on the highway
Early in the morning-
Whether my dream world is real to you or
Just a figment of my imagination in your mind,
It is true to life to me-
That is what matters and
If some day you wish to see what living blissfully encounters-
Climb over that mountain and beyond a rainbow
After a storm-
You shall find me there to
Welcome you and perhaps you also-
Shall never see any turning back, as
What is veracity and what is phantasmal-
Is as has been said-
Is in the eyes of the beholder-

poem by Claudia Krizay
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Lady Magdalene

The man on the right is a man undone
he'd give you his soul if you asked him
for some.
A child in his way for he needs to believe
that love is a song
for each man to sing.
The man on the left is a prize unwon
a candle
unlit and a song unsung.
Believing that love is a dreamer's dream,
the man
on the left the me in between.
Lady Magdelene, I can hear your distant
trumpet
calling from the morning mountain,
singing to the passing river.
Take me home, show me peaceful days before my youth has gone.
The man
in between waits between the two
not hearing the lie and not seeing the
true.
Unknowing what is and denying what seems
and there he will sleep the
man in between.
Lady Magdelene, I can hear your distant
trumpet
calling from the morning mountain,
singing to the passing
river.
Take me home, show me peaceful days before my youth has
gone.
Lady Magdelene, make the sound of silent thunder
calling from
the lips of Abraham
make a sound that we may wonder, where we are.
Take us
to you soul for we have wandered far.
The man on the right was a man
undone
the man on the left like a prize unwon.
And God only knows what
their time will bring
or what will become of the man in between.

song performed by by Neil Diamond
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Lady Magdelene

Words and music by neil diamond
The man on the right is a man undone
Hed give you his soul if you asked him for some.
A child in his way for he needs to believe
That love is a song for each man to sing.
The man on the left is a prize unwon
A candle unlit and a song unsung.
Believing that love is a dreamers dream,
The man on the left the me in between.
Lady magdelene, I can hear your distant trumpet
Calling from the morning mountain,
Singing to the passing river.
Take me home, show me peaceful days before my youth has gone.
The man in between waits between the two
Not hearing the lie and not seeing the true.
Unknowing what is and denying what seems
And there he will sleep the man in between.
Lady magdelene, I can hear your distant trumpet
Calling from the morning mountain,
Singing to the passing river.
Take me home, show me peaceful days before my youth has gone.
Lady magdelene, make the sound of silent thunder
Calling from the lips of abraham
Make a sound that we may wonder, where we are.
Take us to you soul for we have wandered far.
The man on the right was a man undone
The man on the left like a prize unwon.
And God only knows what their time will bring
Or what will become of the man in between.

song performed by by Neil Diamond
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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When The Rain Stopped Falling

there is this heavy rain
falling on top of your roof and it is so disturbing
that you wake up
and lock your windows
to shut yourself away from the sounds
of falling

but you cannot help worrying even when you cannot
literally hear the sound of the falling rain

you still imagine how they fall inside your mind
as though you can hear every syllable that every neddle of rain
is pricking in your brain
your ears
and your eyes still have the image of these
series of fallings

that even if the rain finally stopped
and you open your window to check
in the middle of this time
when morning cracks fromt the shutters of your windows

you still think like crazy
you hear the sound of the wind and it is like the sound of the falling
rain
and even if the wind has left like a leaf flown to the eastern side
of your house
even if there is no shadow of the leaf anymore
you hear your heart falling from your chest

now you must accept
leaving.
now you must accept the pain.
do not deny it.

it is you that is falling out
from the grace of her love.
it is you.

cry it out!
shout it!
it is you.!
it is you!
it is not the rain, it is not the wind, it is not the leaf that was blown away
towards the eastern part of the house.it is not the design of the house.
it is not the purple curtains. it is not the lonely courtyard
it is not the red bowl. it is not the tower.
it is not the blank sheets of paper.
it is not the bell.
it is not the winding stairs.
it is not the dirty garage.
it is not the scaffold.
it is not the white paint.
it is not the doorbell.
it is not the turbulence of the plane.
it is not the slap of the hand.
it is not the blue fan.
it is not the cellophance floating in the air and whirling in that corner
a dead-end.

it is you! and that is the truth!
be calm now. wipe the tears.
try sleep and dream.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Mountain Men

The poacher and his daughter
Throw soft shadows on the water in the night.
A thin moon slips behind them
As they pull the net with no betraying light.
And later on the coast road, I meet them
And the old man winks a smile.
And who am I to fast deny the right
To take a fish once in a while?
I walk with them, they wish me luck
When I ship out on the sunday from the kyle.
And from the church I hear them singing
As the ship moves sadly from the pier.
Oh, poachers daughter, sunday best,
Two hundred brave souls share the farewell tear.
Theres a house on the hillside, where the drifting sands are born.
Lay down and let the slow tide wash me
Back to the land where I came from.
Where the mountain men are kings
And the sound of the piper counts for everything.
Did my tour, did my duty. I did all they asked of me.
Died in the trenches and at el alamein
...died in the falklands on t.v.
Going back to the mountain kings
Where the sound of the piper counts for everything.
Long generations from the isles
Sent to tread the foreign miles
Where the spiral ages meet.
Felt naked dust beneath their feet.
Future sun called winds to blow
And the past and present hard-eyed crow
Flew hunting high and circling low over blackened plains of eden.
Theres a child and a woman praying for an end to the mystery.
Hoping for a word in a letter
Fair wind-blown from across the sea
To where the mountain men are kings
And the sound of the piper counts for eveything.
Theres a house on the hillside, where the drifting sands are born.
Lay down and let the slow tide wash me
Back to the land where I came from.
Where the mountain men are kings
And the sound of the piper counts for everything.
Where the real mountain men are kings
And the sound of the piper counts for everything.
Feel the naked dust beneath my toes
While the future sun calls winds to blow
And the past and present black-eyed crow
Flies hunting high and circling low
Between dream mountains of our eden.

song performed by by Jethro Tull
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A New leaf

There’s a new leaf upon the Tree
A thousand, thousand have been before
In the life of this great tree
Yet, the Tree rejoices, and is glad
For there is a New Leaf upon the tree

The roots are deep, and hidden
Tis one tree from root to branch
And lives in and through each leaf
The hearts’ smile resurrected
Through the New leaf upon the tree

Like the stars of heaven
New leaves have been many
And so they all are One
For they all share the same root
Bless the New leaf upon the tree

Perfection in the Blessing
Joy released in tears of love
The strength in life will comfort
From root to God above
A New leaf upon the tree

Beauty, Truth, and life
Complete from root to branch
When life’s cycle turns
Leaves fall to nourish roots
And behold, a New leaf upon the tree

poem by Adrian Wait
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Moon Shining Over The London Bridge

The sky is dark now
And the night is here again
But there is a moon shining over the London Bridge right over the sky
And I keep watching that moon while I rest for a while at the Thames River
But I can't take my eyes of the moon that is shining over the London Bridge right over the sky because it is beautiful to see
And at the same time it is getting late now but I don't mind at all because I Rather stay all night at The Thames river watching the moon shining over The London Bridge right over the sky
Yes the Big Ben chined midnight now and London is going to sleep
But I am falling asleep now at The Thames river below the naked three That is there at the Thanes River
Also all the buildings near The Thames river have their lights out
And I am sleeping in totall darkness and at the same time enjoying the Peace and quiet of the Thames river during the night
But near the Thames River is always cold and I don't mind at all Because I am dressed for this kind of weather
But this night at the Thames River I will always remember because it Will be the best sleep I ever had in years

poem by Aldo Kraas
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To Gather Moss And More Of Moss

to gather moss
be a stone
to gather more moss
be a very still stone
be a stone still till the end
of time

you stand still and think
you want to be the moss
rather than a stone

to be all moss
you must betray the stillness
of stone
you must even forget
the importance of
what a moss can be

then you think some more
to be completely this moss
you need to be friendly
to the water and to the river

then you decide to be the water
instead of the moss
to be more than the water
you wish instead to become the river

and so you flow and learn the rush
and become the running river
until what you want really
is just to flow
to rush and run and then
you become nothing
but the motion itself
until you are lost

and then
you become what you are now
lost but real
always flowing, rushing, running

where nobody owns you
not even the river
or the stones or the moss

you have become
this running, this flowing, this being
so real so free

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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At a koi pond in a nursery

When her fingers
lightly ripple the water,
a row of fishes
dart to come to investigate.

Fins cut through the water
and big eyes,
come to look
near to the surface.

Big and small bright coloured koi’s
dash past through the water,
while dark fresh water crayfish
crawl on the bottom of the pond.

The ripple on the water
rings out wider and wider,
till where it disappears in to eternity.
.
In my hart the sound
of the beautiful day resounds,
while I stand fascinated
at the fish pond.

poem by Gert Strydom
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Everything In Its Own Time

Remember everything I told you
Keep it in your heart like a stone
And when the winds have blown things round and back again
What was once your pain will be your home
All around the table the white haired men have gathered
Spilling their sons blood like table wine
(spilling their sons blood)
Remember everything I told you
Everything in its own time
The music whispers you in urgency
Hold fast to that languageless connection
A thread of known that was unknown and unseen seen
Dangling from inside the fifth direction
(dangling from inside the fifth direction)
Boys around the table are mapping out their strategies
Kings all of mountains one day dust
A lesson learned a loving God and things in their own time
In nothing more do I trust
We own nothing
Nothing is ours
Not even love so fierce it burns like baby stars
But this poverty is our greatest gift
(nothing is ours)
The weightlessness of us as things around begin to shift
(the weightlessness as things begin to shift)
Remember everything I told you
(remember everything I told you)
Keep it in your heart like a stone
(keep it in your heart like a stone)
And when the winds have blown things round and back again
(when the winds have blown things round)
What was once your pain will be your home
Everything in its own time
Everything in its own time
Oh
Oh
Oh
Oh

song performed by by Indigo Girls
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Full Cold Moon

This night
All light
Full still moon

Lamp lit
Silhouette
Full still moon

Many faces
Secret places
Full still moon

Supernal eye
In the sky
Full still moon

Big stone
Cold Alone
Full still moon

In reverie
A memory
Full still moon

Only one
You are
gone

Only night
to dream
upon

Full

Cold

Moon

poem by Ari' Anna Arena
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Fish Song

Sat here by this stony brook until the grey day turned to dust
When up swam a fish with a childrens book thought that I was lost.
He was on his way to the salmon hop, thats where they go to breed
Saw me sitting on this log and thought Id like to read.
The night was cloudy but the moon he found a hole
Said that he felt bad for me cause I had no place to go
Why arent you at the harvest ball with some sweet young gal
You just sit like a bump on the log and call that fish your pal.
Well, I told him I was an orphan lived here all alone
But many people have often tried to catch and take me home
They never caught me!
Thought that I was a hiding, call this log my home
But the fish and the moon and a sweet young gal
All want me for their own.
The night was cloudy but the moon he found a hole
Said that he felt bad for me cause I had no place to go
So I met that gal at the harvest ball, she took me to her room
While I slept in childrens dreams, the fish ran away with the moon.
The fish ran away with the moon
The fish ran away with the moon.

song performed by by Nitty Gritty Dirt Band
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Brackish Water

I heard something I never could have thought would ever exist
Coming home was only a myth
I saw something cant make it up but could never forget
Seeing only what the water reflects
Seems all right, should have known
I dont care if youre not alone
In the brackish waters of home
Reasoning what I had lost
Watching the ? rain falling down
Where we went around
Falling to brackish sound
Trees and the crabgrass only look covered by time and the moss
Hoping for the time we had lost
Seems that now Ive had my say, should never be ?
Coming home was always a joke
Reasoning what I had lost
Watching the washington rain falling down
Where we went around
Falling to brackish sound

song performed by by Gin Blossoms
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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