Gripe Session
open up
burst, bubbles,
flood, and then
settling down
and then
the pond.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Related quotes
An Incantation
Come with me, and we will blow
Lots of bubbles, as we go;
Bubbles bright as ever Hope
Drew from fancy -- or from soap;
Bright as e'er the South Sea sent
from its frothy element!
Come with me, and we will blow
Lots of bubbles, as we go.
Mix the lather, Johnny W--lks,
Thou, who rhym'st so well to bilks;
Mix the lather - who can be
Fitter for such task than thee,
Great M.P. for Sudsbury!
For the frothy charm is ripe,
Puffing Peter bring thy pipe, --
Thou, whom ancient Coventry,
Once so dearly lov'd, that she
Knew not which to her was sweeter,
Peeping Tom or Puffing Peter; --
Puff the bubbles high in air,
Puff thy best to keep them there.
Bravo, bravo, Peter M--re!
Now the rainbow humbugs soar,
Glitt'ring all with golden hues,
Such as haunt the dreams of Jews; --
Some reflecting mines that lie
Under Chili's glowing sky,
Some, those virgin pearls that sleep
Cloister'd in the southern deep;
Others, as if lent a ray
Form the streaming Milky Way,
Glist'ning o'er with curds and whey
From the cows of Alderney.
Now's the moment -- who shall first
Catch the buble, ere they burst?
Run, ye Squires, ye Viscounts, run,
Br-gd-n, T-ynh-m, P-lm-t-n; --
John W--lks junior runs beside ye!
Take the good the knaves provide ye!
See, with upturn'd eyes and hands,
Where the Shareman, Bri-gd-n, stands,
Gaping for the froth to fall
Down his gullet - lye and all.
See!---But hark my time is out --
Now, like some great water-spout,
Scaterr'd by the cannon's thunder,
Burst, ye bubbles, burst asunder!
poem by Thomas Moore
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The Bottle
I am a bottle, so shake
me up. Or don't shake
me up. Do whatever
you want; either way,
I'll like it. If you shou
ld shake me up, the
bubbles will start for
ming, slowly at first,
then coming up to po
p the place above my n
eck and I could burst. I co
uld blow up, explode, spill ever
ything inside, sputter out all the i
nward items I hide. Things safe w
ithin me. They could flow, flood
out till I'm empty then you can de
cide if you want to recycle me. Pr
obably not. Maybe. Oh, I hope so.
Think green. Think of a better wor
ld. A better one. For you. For me.
For all the children that we could h
ave in the future. However, if you d
on't shake me up, I sit here on the
shelf, waiting for the time come a
nd I like that too. The building anti
cipation that builds excitement for t
he bubbles that could build inside
me. There's something safe, som
ething more comfortable in fanta
sy, keeping things hidden for
no one else to see. Pick me
up, put me down, dropp me
falling to the ground, place me in your hands and shake me up in my imagination. There's a soft, stirring feeling in thinking of that.
poem by Tim Stensloff
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The Dream I Chased
I chased a dream and,
I kept in my slippery hand,
You shook it,
It fell on the sand.
The bubbles burst into color
I couldn't touch it though,
It gave birth to another dream.
I chased the broken bow!
Now I am a woman of alley,
I don't chase any dream'
I don't chase the bubbles anymore
My life became a Scream!
poem by Nilakshi Das
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A Fishy Tale
A Japanese gentleman in Tokyo
kept koi carp in an outdoor pond.
They all had beautiful colourings
and they grew to be incredibly long.
At sunrise one Monday morning
he noticed something quite odd.
Two of the fish appeared to be different
and were kissing by a leafy pod.
At first he couldn’t believe what he was seeing,
but both had a human face.
They were blowing bubbles as they were talking
and what they said was out of place.
They spoke of their dreams and aspirations,
and a new life in a larger pond.
The very next day the land became flooded,
as though someone waved a magic wand.
poem by Orlando Belo
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Bubble Of Life Floats and Flies!
I am that bubble
On that infinite ocean,
I know I am eternal,
except that fills the bubble!
I am that infinite
One of infinite thoughts of the infinite!
Infinite filled breath into infinite bubbles,
I am one of these
Each day he transcends on Earth!
He is her great lover,
She is his fertile wife,
More fertile ones he has.
Everyday she becomes pregnant,
Everyday she breeds billion bubbles of billion species,
Some with brain and some without,
Some with hearts and some without,
But every bubble she breed, are with stomach,
hunger and thirst
Anger and lust
This was mechanical
Till they decided to breed which are their own copy,
With all capacity to understand parents,
Then that came the species of bubbles
Which can see back!
And more than understand,
This lovely child stared weeping on arrival,
Making others happy!
when bubble grew up,
Understood parents,
Sister bubbles
Brother bubbles
Dictating mother,
But not the father,
Mother is soft and caring,
Felt for children and fad them with the best,
When sons Grew, sometimes taller
Than Father,
Started to say I know mother,
I don't know, whether I have father,
Since father was hiding in everyone, who filled his own breath inside these bubbles,
He was helpless when ignorant bubble say there is no ocean,
When bubble learns,
All is his,
Understand what is what,
But for that bubble, jumping and dancing,
With that nuclear arms in his arms,
when adam had Eve in his arms,
Eve had serpent to seduce,
Man made parents stay apart!
the stay apart, still not divorced,
When the divorce, bubble bursts,
But bubble when tries,
To live, it may burst,
When it wants to burst it may live,
This is what we enjoy
And call as life
poem by Ramdas Bhandarkar
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Children With Soap Bubbles
Like smoke the bubbles whirl up
in the wind’s frolicking game
hopping like horses that gallop
and other children have got to look out
or their eyes are going to burn.
Like smoke the bubbles whirl up
against the arms and heads of others
before they heave into the air,
hopping like horses that gallop
with children blowing over a soapy soup
soap-bubble after soap-bubble burst,
like smoke the bubbles whirl up
like balls kicked off by the wind
when mothers scold their dirty children,
hopping like horses that gallop
and later an adult looks after them
to set rules for the game,
like smoke the bubbles whirl up
hopping like horses that gallop.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Soap
you wish i were true
to every word i wrote in my poems
like sadness
that i must be sad when my poems
talk about sadness
like separation and disgust and pain
that i must suffer
with the poems i write that i must have despair
and pain too
and disgust
for every word of disgust written in every word
in every line
how cruel of you
how cruel of truth
how can i justify my death when i speak only of death
and in the very poem
where i write the word
death
there is soap
there is this box of untruths in pandora and when i open it
they must spread and you may refuse to believe
me again
but it would be very cruel of you
to make these poems
all these poems be my life my only life
and lived
and day by day lived in accordance with the
mouths of these poems
empathy
is the word, it is like i am putting my feet in another person's
shoes
then i write, and i could have written about this word: happiness
joy, bliss
ecstasy, light, and amazing glory
i choose not to,
i think, i have too much of it, and i do not share it for now
there is no necessity
and i cannot really help
with so much loneliness and sadness out there
with them i stretch my hands to hold them and feel them
and they all become
myself. it is not soap then, and there are no bubbles in the skies
there is no child playing amazed by the bubbles that burst and by the
bubbles that
are so abundant.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Reconnection
Koi feeding on
my hand
in the clear pond
beside
the neighbor's house
it is the first day
of this year
bubbles of water
rising to the surface
green moss and
rocks
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Just Like Me
Hes so independent
He acts like he couldnt care less for us all
Hes someones descendent
Their child
But hell never acknowledge their call
Hes afraid to be loved
And I know hes afraid not to be
And hell laugh and hell cry
And someday hell die
Just like me
Just like me
Hes settling a score
With a world
That wants a reason
Every time you turn around
Just like me
Hes looking for a door
Standing open, saying welcome
Come and lay your troubles down
Just like me
Hell drop his pretenses
Youll see through the stone to the heart of the man
But the moment he senses youve seen him
Hell leave you as fast as he can
Hell return to his shadows
Where no one can look in and see
And hell wake in the night
And hell cry like a child
Just like me
Just like me
Hes settling a score
With a world that wants a reason
Every time you turn around
Just like me
Hes looking for a door
Standing open, saying welcome
Come and lay your troubles down
Just like me
Ive seen him look hungry for someone
To tell him youre doing just fine
The songs that hes sung me
Have loneliness woven between every line
With no strings to hold him
I guess he could call himself free
Yes, hes free to be empty and lonely and wrong
Just like me
Just like me
Hes settling a score
With a world that wants a reason
Every time you turn around
Just like me
Hes looking for a door
Standing open, saying welcome
Come and lay your troubles down
Just like me
song performed by by Joni Mitchell
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Water so Deep and Profound
Water so sinuous and devious,
And as mystifying as you.
Water is always hiding its true self,
Never in one form.
Water can be the shimmer,
Reflecting off the light of the pond,
Making the pond seem magnificent.
Water can be the rushing sound,
As it escapes the secretive pond,
And runes down into the vast ocean,
Seeking adventure and unfound dreams.
Water can be the feeling of calmness,
As it sits there, overlooking the pond,
With wonder and seeing how it made it what it is.
Water so supple and wondrous,
The pond is born from the water.
Water so deep and profound,
Just like you,
The pond so incomplete without water,
Just like your family.
poem by Music Galore
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Wisdom dawns posthumously.
Waves ebb; ripples fade; bubbles burst.
Yet they seek to strive; yes, they must.
Innocent of the end, they exult.
Only in the end would come regrets.
26.10.2004
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Painted Veil
Millions of bubbles; bubbles, bubbles, bubbles.
Who could have thought that so small
could be the curse of all,
and source of all our troubles?
Microscopic seeds
encasing nuclei of fire.
Each germinates and breeds
subtle filaments of desire.
Desire slides in and overpowers,
making our best intentions fail
and weaves the warp and weft of the painted veil
which shrouds this world which is not ours.
Lift it?
It proliferates with every minute.
See?
Our eyes are trapped within it.
The world?
The world's a vast, empty machine
which thunders on,
blunders on,
silent and unseen.
poem by Brian Taylor
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Bubbles Bursting
A frog snatches several bees
and his throat is stung
A beaver fells a tree
the wrong way and it falls on him
A python eats a crocodile
and then ruptures.
Encased in form, in so many ways
do beings'
bubbles burst into the bay of God
poem by O. Anna Niemus
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Feelings Crossing the Barriers
From a cooped up heart,
feelings, sad and joyous burst
and flood the whole earth.
poem by Rajendran Muthiah
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An Open Grave
The water in the pond is like the gold of Uphaz,
But the realm of the Chaldeans is like a cake unturned!
To the residence of the heathen with eyes to see,
For behold! I am for you like the breath of life.
I will turn my door wide open for you always,
Of the garden of sweet love to touch your heart;
So come into my room and see the sweet bed of love.
I am from the four winds of the earth,
And i am always around you to share my love with;
So come and expose your nakedness to me,
Like the sweet garden of love with sweet apples.
Don't be like an open grave without a clue,
For you are so beautiful by all standards!
Because, the water from your pond is like the gold of Uphaz.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Most Of What I Have Is
Anger, bull anger, dragon anger
Tiger anger,
Strong anger of twisters,
For the one I truly and truly love,
The desert and the volcanic ash
The ungiving, the unyielding
It is like,
A dead pond
Murky, brackish water,
It is the dwelling of
A porcupine-fish, just that,
It does not even swim
Or tried learning the art
Of swimming
It is my pain
This is my pain that I painted
On a piece of paper
One dark line in black
At the end at the rightmost tip
Is the red
Tip of iron-hot jagged-edge acetylene torch fire
It is aimed in my head in my heart
It is anger
That is angry to itself
And so everything in this pond dies,
The moss, the lilies,
The tadpoles the catfish the last catfish
Of this pond
Died the other day the frogs Stopped croaking since
The toads found warts on their throats
It is anger
A blizzard
Burst my eardrums
She may sing the songs
Of love to my deaf
Ears
Perforated Eardrums of anger
It is anger That keeps me alive
Its only desire Is to kill This anger this looseness
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Bubbles of Love
This poem was inspired while watching the MTV reality show A Shot at Love with Tila Tequila. take it or leave it, you can interprete it the way you want.
Miss Tequila I wish to confess
There is something odd I wish to express
One day I had one shot too many for a penny
As my eyes opened up to 'Bubbles of love'
Bubbles of love
Bubbles of love
This awesome beauty that you possess
Your tanned skin calls for a touch of caress
Bubbles of love
Bubbles of love
Your succulent lips demand a kiss of finesse
And lets not forget the sexy curves you possess
Bubbles of Love
Bubbles of Love
I will fight with words not fists and head butts
I can't help feeling all hot with no second thoughts
These feelings I wish sometimes to suppress
Because I play my life like a game of chess
I know youthful beauty fades as that is its trade
But yours merely radiates over man and hand-made
Miss Tequila I wish to confess
Sometimes I do things in a little excess
It is you I wish to undress in your nightdress
While your breasts pressed against my bareness
Rather than breaking loves no one code
By driving carelessly on slippery roads
For you I'll wear my heart on my sleeve
Kisses, romance, love, the whole lot we can achieve
I see only 'Bubbles of love'
Beyond your smile and sexy little curves
I see only 'Bubbles of love'
In you, a ravishing blessing from above
Miss Tequila I wish to confess
It is you I wish and want to process
One day I had one shot too many for a penny
And in you I saw my little American Princess
Copyright 2008 - Sylvia Chidi
poem by Sylvia Chidi
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The National Flood Insurance Program is a valuable tool in addressing the losses incurred throughout this country due to floods. It assures that businesses and families have access to affordable flood insurance that would not be available on the open market.
quote by Gary Miller
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Mr. Pessimist
Time will swallow
Your precious time
Like magic create the future
What makes man so fickle ?
Who put the daggers in those eyes ?
Was it to learn
Through dark days of struggle ?
Was it to burn
To burst all our bubbles ?
Thunder and rain
Well the cynicle flame will it heat
song performed by by Tears For Fears from Elemental
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Open Your Box
Open your box,
Open your box,
Open your trousers,
Open your thighs,
Open your legs,
Open, open, open, open, oooh.
Open, open, open, open,
Open your legs,
Open your flies,
Open your ears,
Open your nose,
Open your mouth,
Open, open, open, open, oooh.
Open.
Open your cold feet,
Open, open,
Open, open, open, let's open, let's open the cities.
Open the cities,
Open, open, open the world,
Open, let's open the world.
Open, open, oooh -
Open, open, ooh!
song performed by by Yoko Ono
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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