Heirless Future....
it is horrible to see
that thing over there
we stand a little bit taller
to have a glimpse
a desert, the sun its only eye
the sands in cinders
every sand in abandon
it trembles me no end
that it is our possible destination
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Grain....
when life one dark night says
that it is tasteless and so bland like the air
the leaves of the mahogany trees hear it
and the following morning confide it with the
sea breeze
who tells it all to the sands who spread same story
to the waves of the shores
who deliver it to every desert in the sand
who keep all these in the heart of their
sacred solitude
and the wisdom stops in there
every dry sand of the desert
thrives upon this story
and sleeps so soundly.
'it is a fact and we are not surprised' the grain
of sand so proudly tell the others.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Someone Keeps Moving My Chair
Mr. horrible
Mr. horrible
Telephone call for mr. horrible
But before he can talk to the ugliness men
Theres some horrible business left
For him to attend to
Something unpleasant has spilled on his brain
As he sponges it off they say
Is this horrible?
Is this horrible?
Its the ugliness men, mr. horrible
Were just trying to bug you
We thought that our dreadfulness
Might be a thing to annoy you with
But mr. horrible says, I dont mind
The thing that bothers me is
Someone keeps moving my chair
Would you mind if we balance this glass of milk
Where your visiting friend accidentally was killed?
Would it be okay with you if we wrote a reminder
Of things well forget to do today otherwise,
Using a green magic marker, if its alright
On the back of your head?
Mr. horrible
Mr. horrible
Were not done with you yet mr. horrible
You have to try on these pants so the ugliness men
Can decide if theyre just as embarrassing as we think
We have to be sure about this
But mr. horrible says, I dont mind
The thing that bothers me is
Someone keeps moving my chair
Someone keeps moving my chair
Mr. horrible says, I dont mind
The thing that bothers me is
Someone keeps moving my chair
song performed by by They Might Be Giants
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Personal Evolution
My shores are all but gone now...
Time has claimed my sands
Tears i have cried o'er Love that has died
My waves ebb and flow now on command;
The moon has all but given up
Taken it's leave from shining o'er Earths floor
Silence and sorrow are my constant companions
Embraced by tattered shores of nevermore;
Life 'tis but a glimpse of Divine Light...
A solumn glimpse of Eternity...
Shores of once sweet abandon-are gone now
Swallowed up, i am now, by the Sea;
poem by Theodora Onken
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Skeleton Coast
Footmarks in the sand,
White bones across the land,
Your sea is wild,
Your sands barren of life,
Wind swept, a land in strife,
My soul desolate as your beach,
Heart and mind out of reach,
Loneliness my only companion,
Leaves me without desire,
A lone Seagull reaches higher,
Isolated from my brothers,
Are my bones to join the others,
Oh where to go, what to do?
Will my treasures sink into the sand?
Lost forever to your land?
Rejected, I leave you with your decision,
Choices made, in derision,
A glimpse you had of my riches,
What help if they will not hear?
The cost will be made clear,
On I walk in your sand,
Sadness reaches across the land,
Regret has no place, leaves a trace,
My destination is uncertain,
When will be the final curtain?
April 2012
poem by David Andre' Klopper
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For Wanting To Write....
perhaps, because of this
i may end up
with a head cut, or
a body shredded like
cheese,
tired limbs like
burnt toast,
perhaps because of that
i may not reach
what destination is reserved by
the lines of my palms,
perhaps i may not even end at
all,
because here you are
reading these lines
and you will like them
not because they are as palatable
as exotic friend frogs
but because you have felt sorrow
and have the smell of pain
the sound of acidic rain
over your hair
now melting and before you notice it
you too have become bald
because of having known much
than what is permitted by all these lines
it is about us,
it is about our being part of this vast
nothingness
sands of the desert
light of the moon spreading on sands of the desert nights
hushing wind
taking all the possible directions
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Juan....
what if i go there
undressed, completely undressed
and i shall be confronted with the vastness of the desert
and i shall hear nothing but the
wind and the slush of the sands?
am i ready to scorch in the desert
and die and be one of the unaccounted skulls there
together with some
unnumbered cows and
jackals?
the idea is horrible.
and i am staying here within these four corners
fully dressed.
because i am
moral citizen
Juan.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Crying Desert
Each and every sand of desert
Asks me as an expert
Where you were
When she was doing this crime
She left me alone, all alone
In the roaring desert zone
I just wanted her to phone
But she was not in the home
The scene was so horrifying
I searched and every sand
The desert called me crying
She is now in their hand
poem by Vizard Dhawan
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Love Sonnet 169 I Have Seen Sadness On The Prestine Sand
I have seen sadness on the pristine sand,
In faded footprints, you have failed to make,
More so that sands were once huge rocks, so grand,
Before this fate, that only sands could take:
To become the dunes, were dwelt my sorrow,
In dire stillness that aggravates my loss,
The craved tenderness, which you did not show,
That spawned a desert, much too wide to cross;
Though minute are the grains that slip my grasp,
Like truths that seep through a mind grief ridden,
Vicious as though rose harboring a wasp,
Thereby, in sweetness lurks its sting, hidden;
......Yet, your footprints did not last till evening,
......As blown sand covered your tracks of leaving.
.
poem by Reyvrex Questor Reyes
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Lies About Tall Guys
Just seems like it’s that way to me
Taller guys seem to get executive jobs
Shorter guys work mostly as clerks
Taller guys never seem to be slobs
Shorter guys always seem to be jerks
Taller guys seem to get all of the action
Shorter guys seem to be quite invisible
Taller guys always seem to deserve satisfaction
Shorter guys are lonely and miserable
Just seems like it’s that way to me
Taller guys just seem born to play sports
Shorter guys kinda seem to like tennis
Taller guys certainly look better in shorts
Shorter guys look like Dennis the Menace
Taller guys are usually at the top of their class
Shorter guys seem to fail quite a lot
Taller guys always seem to kick ass
Shorter guys want to, but simply cannot
sure seems like it’s that way to me
Taller guys get better grades and such
Shorter guys seem to barely scrape by
Taller guys seem to do better, pretty much
Shorter guys always wonder why
Taller guys seem to have eyes like a hawk
Shorter guys seem to wear glasses a lot
Taller guys cover more ground when they walk
Shorter guys, to keep up, have to trot
Sure seems like it’s that way to me
Taller guys and their friends look like N.B.A players
Shorter guys look more like cheerleaders
Taller guys seem to look like dragon slayers
Shorter guys look a lot more like bleeders
Taller guys seem to have more gear to protect
Shorter guys wear more protective gear
Taller guys, more confidence seem to project
Shorter guys have less confidence, more fear
Really seems like it’s that way to me
Taller guys appeal to the female gender
Shorter guys always seem to choke
Taller guys carry a lot more legal tender
Shorter guys always seem to be broke
Taller guys seem to drive high dollar cars
Shorter guys drive toyotas
Taller guys seem to reach for the stars
Shorter guys reach for diet sodas
Taller guys are obnoxious, let’s neuter them all
Shorter guys are great people, always a delight
Taller guys are an abomination against mother nature’s law
If you think I’m a short guy….well, you’re right!
Really seems like the way it should be
poem by David Whalen
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The Impermanence Of Our Lives
what we carefully build
for years and years
like a mandala sand painting
of the monks
we soon shall destroy
we soon shall leave and
had that feeling of abandon
like the colored sands that we
finally sprinkle on the river
of life.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Hold Her In Your Hand
You got to walk a little slower when youre with her
Take the time to be tender, thats the plan
You got to stand a little taller while her world falls to pieces
Only then can you hold her in your hand
You got to live for every moment that she gives you
Make the one in a million understand
You got to stand a little taller while her world falls to pieces
Only then can you hold her in your hand
Now too many faces have come down between us
And I was the fool to be
And I cant deny you the wide open spaces
As long as she stops loving me
You got to stand a little closer when you hold her
Make her feel like a woman , understand
You got to stand a little taller while her world falls to pieces
Only then can you hold her in your hand
song performed by by Bee Gees
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Questions to Desert Wind…
You wonder,
Did the desert wind already forgotten to past?
No dearest, it has always blown so gently…
Crafting this dry open desert,
Shifting mystical sand dunes,
Bringing precious droplets to a thirsty bird,
To comfort her broken heart!
You further asked,
O desert wind…
Why erased my written message in the sand?
So let it be a permanent secret,
Cause I have already engraved it in my heart.
poem by Desert Life
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Pity The Violets
in the desert
some tiny flowers grow
the sands are blown by the wind
and we cover our eyes
we do not want to be harmed
we continue walking
in the desert some tiny
violets still grow as tiny as sand
no wind is that so cruel
to blow them all away
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Winds Of Change
Walk softly through the
Desert sands
Careful where you tread
Underfoot are the visions lost
Sleeping not yet dead
Hang on - winds starting to howl
Hang on - the beast is on the prowl
Hang on - can you hear the
Strange cry
Winds of change are blowing by
Mountains crumble and cities fall
Don't come to an end
Just lie scattered on the
Desert floor
Waiting for the wind
Chorus
You got your life planned carefully
But you left out one detail
The hidden hand deals just one round
And the winds of change prevail
Chorus
Walk softly through the desert sand
Old dreams lead the way
Nothing new in the sands of time
Just changes every day
Hang on - it's starting again
Hang on - there's no shelter from
The wind
Hang on - like a fire from the sky
Winds of change are blowing by
song performed by by Jefferson Starship
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I loved all the love away
I loved all the love away
Left with mine prodigal hand
Mine heart through my fingers play
To soft white sensual sand
In a desert of sheer famine
Bereft of love and love's sea
I scavenge the ground and examine
The desert of what's left of me
Nothing but white sand and shore
Where the moon tide's waves
move rippled sand of desert galore
to taunt and with will depraves
The love I need, but shows the love I had
Lost in the desert delusional I'm utterly mad…
poem by Kevin Michael Murphy
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Monuments
Crystal the desert
Sands sifted in dry air
Sun flecked sparkling.
Wind plays out,
Whistling, weathering rock
Sculpting.
Sand blasts in desert storms.
Fine glass moulds, shapes,
Caresses, smooths.
Forged in the heat of the desert days
Cold of its night.
Making monuments to natures art.
Towers of pink and yellow
Watch over rock strewn plains
Waterless river beds
In silent serenity.
Copyright P H Brookes 2012
poem by Paul Brookes
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The accident was a horrible thing - but that horrible thing made Chris, at the end of his life, Superman. It's a happy irony if there is such a thing. I'm proud to have known him.
quote by Morgan Freeman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Philosophers Bones
He’s given them all to a Desert Man
Underdog bitten holes of the head
He’s given them all to a Desert Man
Unleashed sunflower sunward led
He’s given them all to a Desert Man
In windblown power the dinas bled
He’s given them all to a Desert Man
Like tears in the desert rose shed
Stone alone atoned in the last sand clock
Soul alone attained keyed within the lock
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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A New World Is In The Coming
Pre-noon, sun preparing to turn harsh
Large shade of a gulmohar tree
A four or so year old boy
Sitting on a small sand heap
Near a construction site
With a blue jeans
Here-and-there torn
White fibres running across the opening
And an odd size dark red colour shirt
His parents working there nearby
Father a mason
Ever busy with mixing cement and sand
And also supervising the work
Of some construction labourers
His mother carrying a head load of bricks
At regular intervals
Once a while she comes near him
And sees from a distance making sure
He is safe and behaving
The boy minds not things around
The horn of a passing car gets unnoticed by him
He knows the car will pass without hurting him
A barking dog cannot threaten him
Nor a cow going very close to him
He is unmoved by any such
Normally-termed unsafe situations
He poses to be smart
As he probably is exposed to these
For more than two years now
He is happy throwing handful of sands around
He makes a small ball of sand
And enjoys the sight of its breaking
At the pressure of his tender fingers
Suddenly he thinks of a small hill
And starts pushing sands
Towards a centre point
So that the collection heaps up to hill
He has almost done it
His dad appears yelling at him
Move away, I need this sand
I am to prepare a fresh mix
Lifts his son single handedly
Practically throwing his son onto the road
The child cries
He can stand hunger,
He can stand un-attending,
He can stand thirst,
He can stand beating,
But not this insult of
Denying him the only play thing, the sand
He started crying pitifully
Mother after unloading her head load of bricks
Comes rushing to her crying son and says
Stop crying, do not worry
A new lorry load of sand will soon come
You can stay atop on a big heap of sand
And play for long
The boy, our hero, understands
Stops crying at once, as he knows
A new world is in the coming
poem by Bashyam Narayanan
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Lost legion for Friend Thad
The earth beneath the desert sun is baked to shades of brown and dun.
A sea of sand which ceaselessly moves with wind uneasily.
The land marks here are far and few but known by those belonging to the nomad bands who freely roam this sea of sand and call it home.
A people fierce and proud and free who guard their secrets ruthlessly.
Intruders are not welcome here; invaders simply disappear.
Their fate is very seldom known, the desert can protect its own
Whole Roman legions were erased their resting place cannot be traced.
The desert knows but will not speak some bones are found by those who seek
to solve the ancient mysteries. Perhaps rewrite the histories.
To validate their theories of how an army disappears.
without a clues as to their fate. A subject open to debate.
The desert sands move constantly, sometimes revealing teasingly
bleached bones and weapons on the sand which scholars strive to understand.
Does it matter anyway? Why do we seek to know today
what happened to the lost legion. Although the legend lingers on.
The desert will not satisfy our burning curiosity
The desert knows but will not share the scholars find this hard to bear.
The desert lands conceal with ease volumes of untold histories.
Which earnest scholars yearn to read, perhaps one day they will succeed.
But until then the burning sun will bake the earth to brown and dun
Maintaining its long secrecy in brooding silent dignity.
30-Dec-08
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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