Henpecked
the usual long walks
in the morning
that's what's good for
my body
passing through pathways
watching newly opened doors
and clean yards stretching
where hen-pecked husbands are
feeding the chickens
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Related quotes
Editing Bukowski, Without His Permission
i
Long walks at night-
that's what good for the soul:
peeking into windows
watching tired housewives
trying to fight off
their beer-maddened husbands.
ii
(i am a minimalist, how about removing the last line,
ok, i will try)
Long walks at night-
that's what good for the soul:
peeking into windows
watching tired housewives
trying to fight off
iii
(hey, how about removing the first line,
the long walks are not really necessary,
ok)
that's what good for the soul:
peeking into windows
watching tired housewives
trying to fight off
iv
(hmm
why not remove the third and fourth,
it sounds good to me...
yeah, i will)
that's what good for the soul:
watching tired housewives
v
(what about using only one word
to make the poem
very brief?
ok.. i will leave the most important one)
-nothing follows-
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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What To Say To The Early Day...
four in the morning is usual
it is still dark in fact
and what surprises is that usual darkness has to offer?
the chickens are not making sounds
the pavements are empty of strangers
the road is wet with the whole night raining
there is this newness
of what to do for another day
and i say to myself, with all courtesy: good morning.
have i said it before? i must, but always to someone other than myself.
it is unjustified.
at this early hour i have no one to talk to.
darkness is always silent. Twilight is still far.
the morning is not saying anything.
but always time moves, darkness fades away
and so
we always welcome the light
it happens.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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And The Moon And The Stars And The World
Long walks at night--
that's what good for the soul:
peeking into windows
watching tired housewives
trying to fight off
their beer-maddened husbands.
poem by Charles Bukowski
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It's Hard to Grow
Little do they know,
Each season has an ending.
With one clean sweep...
What was no longer is to be!
It's hard to grow,
And go through doors that have to close.
But for them...
They want these doors stayed open.
But they've been stopped...
Hitting bottom from the top.
Dropped and blocked.
Little do they know,
Each season has an ending...
Swoosh
With one clean sweep...
What was no longer is to be!
Oh Lawd it's hard to grow,
And go through doors that have to clossssuup.
But for them...
They want these doors stayed open.
Little do they know,
Each season has an ending.
With one clean sweep...
What was no longer is to be!
It's hard to grow,
And go through doors that have to close.
But for them...
They want these doors stayed open.
But for them...
They want these doors stayed open.
But for them...
These doors will not be opened again!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Clean
Eat clean,
Live clean,
Sleep clean,
dress clean,
Walk clean,
Learn clean,
Play clean,
Think clean,
dance clean,
Talk clean,
Sing clean,
work clean,
Because the world around you is watching what you do;
You are the only one on this earth,
So live and let us live too.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Inside My Study Room
five o'clock, the usual time
but i already woke up at 3: 45
too early really
but i could not go back to
sleep
the words arrive
riding on the boat
such wind
hovering
disembarking in my
brain
i am surrounded by
glass walls
and light brown
drapes
books scattering
like garbage
on the floors and
tables
i smell the odor of
dust and
water inside a vase
unchanged
the red rose
had long wilted
no one comes around
to fix things
and keep all of these
in their proper places
the windows are still
closed and it
is still dark outside
though the crows
have already
sounded their
sad calls
the cocks keep sounding
it is already morning
and the windows
must not be opened
i write some lines
as usual and then
i'll wear my socks
and put on my
rubber shoes
and then i will take
my walk to the
woods
it will be cold
and i can see my breath
like smoke from a pipe
but i need this
my body craves
my feet want to move
the walls are too much
and the curtains feel
like they have to be washed
i open the door
and then i meet a new
world again
i know at first it will
still be cold
that is usual
i know after this
the sun comes again
as usual
and things will warm themselves
again
on promises
like what hope is all about.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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INTIMACY between man and dog
LAST night the dog
was alone. It has to be outside the house.
It is his job.
This morning it slips through the
newly opened door
waggles its tail
licks my feet
and keeps its body beside mine.
There is no grudge.
Last night was forgotten.
People should have been like that.
Duty and intimacy
holding close.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Behind closed doors
Doors made of steel
others made of wood
life going on behind them
things that are bad and good.
Doors that are always closed
while some are forever open wide
behind doors can lie secrets
and where people can go to hide.
A door opened to a new future
another one blocking your way
families at war behind the door
but where children can happily play.
Prisoners locked in behind solid doors
waiting for the key to turn in the lock
as lonely people sit in their homes
waiting for someone just to knock.
The doors of Gold created in Heaven
only opened for the chosen few
behind them lies an eternal life
but will they open for me or you?
poem by Kevin Halls
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how do i remember you Ms. Belen?
we met as teachers in the college of the arts and sciences,
and i was busy with my poems, those that drained my sorrows
and longings dragged into some forms of
words,
metaphors kept me bound to some illusions
of beauty, as usual the good that i always pursue,
and the truth
which always put me in some wars with almost
every creature in the world,
you will remember me as a poem
and how do i remember you, Belen?
since then you were always like the white cherry blossom
graceful to the morning sun
and not afraid of the heat
and resilient to the cold,
there was one scene i cannot forget
we entered a newly opened noodle restaurant
we ordered our favorite
and we waited
and talked from a to z
did it rain then?
did we have the noodle finally?
did we really enjoy each other's company?
do you still remember?
the sound of the young city
the hush of the hands waiving always these departures
someday, perhaps we shall have more hellos
hey there, i am back, and i am staying here
in this courty for good
the Philippines.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Buried in the Sunset
Sun is crawling down
I wait for you
Two yards under
I was buried in the sunset
Im still alive here
Still waiting for you
Two yards under
I was buried in the sunset
Days are passing by
Its getting hard to breathe
Two yards under
I was buried in the sunset
I faked my death
since i felt a threat
Two yards under
I was buried in the sunset
Now real death is drawing near
as the sun breaks the new dawn
but Im no longer waiting for you
I sacrificed,
Two yards under
I buried myself in the sunset
- FaraM Siddiqui
poem by FaraM Siddiqui
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Last Night I Dreamed of Chickens
Last night I dreamed of chickens,
there were chickens everywhere,
they were standing on my stomach,
they were nesting in my hair,
they were pecking at my pillow,
they were hopping on my head,
they were ruffling up their feathers
as they raced about my bed.
They were on the chairs and tables,
they were on the chandeliers,
they were roosting in the corners,
they were clucking in my ears,
there were chickens, chickens, chickens
for as far as I could see...
when I woke today, I noticed
there were eggs on top of me.
poem by Jack Prelutsky
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Tossed Away
When a people,
Fed on corruption...
Start to blame,
A newly elected president...
To be the cause of their woes,
And a weakened economy...
Even a monkey,
Accustomed to feeding on bananas...
But has chanced upon,
An opened can of smoked caviar...
Tossed away in a remoted jungle,
Stops...
To scratch its head!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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To Be Over
We go sailing down the calming streams
Drifting endlessly by the bridge
To be over
We will see
To be over
Do not suffer through the game of chance that: plays
Always doors to lock away your dreams
Think it over
Time will heal your fear
Think it over
Balance the thoughts that release within you
Childlike soul dreamer one journey
One to seek and see in every light do open
True pathways away
Carrying closer go gently
Holding doors will open everyway
You wander true pathways away
After all your soul will still surrender
After all dont doubt your part
Be ready to be loved
song performed by by Yes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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To Be Over
We go sailing down the calming streams
Drifting endlessly by the bridge
To be over
We will see
To be over
Do not suffer through the game of chance that: plays
Always doors to lock away your dreams
Think it over
Time will heal your fear
Think it over
Balance the thoughts that release within you
Childlike soul dreamer one journey
One to seek and see in every light do open
True pathways away
Carrying closer go gently
Holding doors will open everyway
You wander true pathways away
After all your soul will still surrender
After all dont doubt your part
Be ready to be loved
song performed by by Yes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Morning Poetry Ritual
what comes in
let it enter
i always will
each precious hour in the morning
these are guests
that feed us and not us
feeding them
these are the carriers of bounty
the harbingers of good news
the doors are open
and so are the arms
the hands are ready
the monitor is awake
and then the fingers
start to press the words.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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A Morning Greeting
good morning, my friend
hope you're fine like the smooth morning rays of the sun
on soft hands caressing the shiny brown skin of my face
did you sleep well last night? let me ask if you have dreams
that make waking up a regretful event
i am out now for my usual walk to see the usual rising of the sun
on the golden ricefields on the road leading to a group of nipa huts
i am asking myself today: is there meaning to this usualness
this routine that comes to us without any break?
is there something new to the sun that we always expect to shine?
is there a twist to the usual chirps of birds, the usual white color of their wings? is there something better to do than walk and think the usual
thoughts of how to make a living and be the fit person to survive
this war on boredome
this struggle for meaning
this monotonous routine of this and that and this and that and this and that and this and that and this and that this and that and this and that and this and that and this and that and this and that this and that and this and that and this and that and this and that and this and that this and that and this and that and this and that and this and that and this and that this and that and this and that and this and that and this and that and this and that this and that and this and that and this and that and this and that and this and that this and that and this and that and this and that and this and that and this and that this and that and this and that and this and that and this and that and this and that
there is no stuttering here, nothing symptomatic of sickness
and even death, there is this boredom again that will make us
not sleep the nights
and make us uneasy and restless and asking some more
what is this life? what is it giving me?
what am i giving it? how long?
just asking, i am returning to the house from this short walk
there is no music in my ears
more questions popping
i will just take tea
i need really to pee.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Mutuality In Kindness...
the chickens
so many of them
make a music for him
who sleeps
on the haystack
he gathers the grains
to feed them
early morning
to the chickens
they found a master
at last
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Good Morning, Good Morning
Nothing to do to save his life call his wife in
Nothing to say but what a day how's your boy been
Nothing to do it's up to you
I've got nothing to say but it's o.k.
Good morning, good morning...
Going to work don't want to go feeling low down
Heading for home you start to roam then you're in town
Everybody knows there's nothing doing
Everything is closed it's like a ruin
Everyone you see is half asleep.
And you're on your own you're in the street
Good morning, good morning...
After a while you start to smile now you feel cool.
Then you decide to take a walk by the old school.
Nothing has changed it's still the same
I've got nothing to say but it's o.k.
Good morning, good morning...
People running round it's five o'clock.
Everywhere in town is getting dark.
Everyone you see is full of life.
It's time for tea and meet the wife.
Somebody needs to know the time, glad that i'm here.
Watching the skirts you start to flirt now you're in gear.
Go to a show you hope she goes.
I've got nothing to say but it's o.k.
Good morning, good morning...
song performed by by Beatles
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Body To Body
Body, body, bo-bo-bo-body, body
Body to body
Body to body
Body to body
Nobody does it like you do
Body to body
I love the way you make me feel
When you do what youre doing to me, oh
Touching me the way you do, you know, know youve got to feel it too
When you bodys next to mine, youve got me hypnotized
Body to body
Body to body
You know I like the way you do what you do when you do it to me, oh
Body to body
Nobody does it like you do
Body to body
You know I like what you do when you do what you do to me, no
Oh, what you do
Flowing through this magic night
I love to feel you hold me tight
You are the one thats right for me
You got me feeling tingaly
Share the night with stars above
I think Ive found this thing called love
Fever running through your eyes
You are my heavenly device
Body to body
Body to body
Body to body nobody does it like you do
Body to body
You know I like what you do when you do what you do to me, no
Oh, what you do
You opened up the world to me
You changed my life so tenderly
I know you are the only one
Youre brighter than the burning sun
Dont know where youre going to
I dont care as long as Im with you
That certain sparkle in your eyes
Has got me feeling oh so high
Body to body
Body to body
Body to body
Body to body
I like what you do when you do all those things to me
Body to body....
song performed by by Gloria Estefan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Behind closed doors they had what were legendary battles I hear but when the doors opened there was absolute unity. Not a crack could be found. No separation whatsoever. They were locked together for the good of the community.
quote by Maynard Jackson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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