His Depth
when the rope with a pail was lowered
to get some water
there was none, and the
rope was only about two meters long
what was loud was the
echo of the pail banging
the muddy bottom
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Related quotes
The Well That Becomes Dry
your rope and pail
shall find no use now
for the well that used to give you water
has gone dry
utter a word to it
and what you hear is nothing but an echo
dropp a coin
there will be no ripples anymore
a fish lives there
now dead buried on the cracks of the soil
inside is the emptiness
that it will keep till the next rain
the rope shall accumulate
dust
the pail shall have its own
rust.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Fetching Water
Come on now; let’s go fetch some water
grab a pail in each hand and let’s go.
Down the hill, to the pond in the holler,
then we’ll climb back up the hill with that water!
Everyone today has forgotten
what it’s like to haul water in a pail.
Every house must have a Jacuzzi,
and a big swimming pool, as well.
Come on now; let’s go fetch some water
grab a pail in each hand and let’s go.
Down the hill, to the pond in the holler,
then we’ll climb back up the hill with that water!
And our homes must have a green lawn
to keep it looking really good!
The water we waste on that green grass
could be used by the farmer to grow food.
Come on now; let’s go fetch some water
grab a pail in each hand and let’s go.
Down the hill, to the pond in the holler,
then we’ll climb back up the hill with that water!
Don’t waste all of that precious water.
We have worked too hard to bring it here.
We can’t live without that precious water
let’s be thankful that it is so near.
Come on now; let’s go fetch some water
grab a pail in each hand and let’s go.
Down the hill, to the pond in the holler,
then we’ll climb back up the hill with that water!
Don’t be taking the water from the farmer
without it his crops will never grow.
All of life depends upon the water
Don’t take it for granted anymore.
Come on now; let’s go fetch some water
grab a pail in each hand and let’s go.
Down the hill, to the pond in the holler,
then we’ll climb back up the hill with that water!
poem by Emma Beverage
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Jumping Rope
We are jumping rope together
we are jumping rope together
unwinding naughty knots of tether
we are jumping rope together
We are jumping rope together
we are skipping beats together
pouting panting chasing chants
unraveling rigid wraps to sever
We are jumping rope together
we are jumping rope together
jointly jogging jagged breath
suddenly we
sneeze!
poem by Randy Resh
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Illusion and ignorance
To mistake a rope for a snake
Or to mistake a snake for a rope
Is illusion in perception.
To take a rope for rope and
A snake for snake is knowledge.
To take a rope not for a rope
And a snake not for a snake
Is ignorance. We employ
All the three at variant times
At different degrees in life.
29.042010
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Or When You Are Inside A Dark Room
and all are solid walls
you hear no one and no one hears you
you stand and grapple for light
your hands feeling the sides of
the walls
you panic for an exit
and still there is none
you calm yourself
and sit on the floor
you close your eyes in this darkness
and see the light inside
is this not a relief? you breathe
deeper like you are throwing a rope with a pail
inside the hole
of a well
you hear nothing yet
until it hits the bottom
and then you settle for something
so temporal
like this: i am alright. Things will be.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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A Resolution
early in the morning
as we pray in church
searching for
light
we ponder deep
like a well
without rope
on a rusty pail
and then we open our eyes
not seeing any light
we find the darkness instead
and then we step out
and walk on our
separate ways.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Measuring The Length Of Silence....
do not fathom my
silence
it has no bottom
no floor
when you try to
measure it
with a rope
there will be no rope
of this world
left
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Rope hair woman
Rope hair woman
Where you’re off to tonight
Rope hair woman
You’re lookin’ out of sight
O rope hair woman
I love with all my might
Rope hair woman if you could if you can
Let me be your dread lock man.
Dread lock man
Can you understand
That a rope hair woman
Does all that she can
To move you to that sexual point
Better then your hand
O rope hair woman
Here is my plain
Rope hair woman I will give
Up my womanly man
O rope hair woman
The world can understand
That you want a dread lock man.
poem by David E. Patton
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In The Well
My father cinched the rope,
a noose around my waist,
and lowered me into
the darkness. I could taste
my fear. It tasted first
of dark, then earth, then rot.
I swung and struck my head
and at that moment got
another then: then blood,
which spiked my mouth with iron.
Hand over hand, my father
dropped me from then to then:
then water. Then wet fur,
which I hugged to my chest.
I shouted. Daddy hauled
the wet rope. I gagged, and pressed
my neighbor's missing dog
against me. I held its death
and rose up to my father.
Then light. Then hands. Then breath.
poem by Andrew Hudgins
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Skip Away
I was walking, talking today
And a little girl came skipping my way
Reciting some silly nonsense song
Wasn't long before she was gone
' skip a rope '
A good friend in the middle of the night
rang up involved in her plight
On her behalf could I say a few words
Why of course and now they are heard
' skip a rope '
Then when the Sun comes out to play
We all perk up and listen to her say
Then we all smile from deeply inside
And from within the Sunshine can't hide
' skip a rope '
And with sadness you have to go
Across the ocean so far it's so
But when you land you extend your hand
from there to here and back again
' skip a rope '
poem by Midnights Voice
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Contemporary Poetry
contemporary poetry
is nice to read since they are
not cliches, very much unlike
shakespeare or
mary oliver
i 've seen one and read it
over and over again
it feels like
trickling rain from
my forehead to my
spine
like this:
rain
rain
go
away
come
back
an
other
d
a
y....
i am amazed
i think i will write about jack and jill went up the hill to get a pail of water.
jack forgot and
what is that? jill come rolling after?
the pail.
i am bitter.
sour i mean.
i don't belong
i am one kind of a frustrated contemp...
orary wri
ter.
well, i will try next time
i have to reread
bukowski's advice
i will wait
till the next tick.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Muddy Water
I spend most of my life with this guitar
Playing my songs
Playing the role of a juggler
Hard and long
My pieces of this puzzle my life
I can't fit together
I seem shattered, and darkened down weather
Lost forever
See no one
No guest of my reflection been drawn
See no one, no one, no one
So don't stir up this dirt in this puddle and settle at the bottom
Unfortunately I done stepped my foot in muddy water
I try and pace my steps in an ordinary fashion through the doorway
Unfortunately I done stepped my foot in muddy water
I rolled over on nickels
Rolled and got out
I just kept on walking
Not knowing who I was
Where was I scarred and bleeding
Through blurred vision I saw freshened lines
Across the horizon
I was out of my skull, I was torn, I was tired
See no one
No guest of my reflection been drawn
See no one, no one, no one
So don't stir up this dirt in this puddle and settle at the bottom
Unfortunately I done stepped my foot in muddy water
I try and pace my steps in an ordinary fashion through the doorway
Unfortunately I done stepped my foot in muddy water
So just down another shot it's just one more ache in the morning
Take another hit it's just one more cell you'll be killing'
Have another beer it's just a few more words you'll be yelling'
Go have your self a ball
And take two of these and call me in the morning
So don't stir up this dirt in this puddle and settle at the bottom
Unfortunately I done stepped my foot in muddy water
I try and pace my steps in an ordinary fashion through the doorway
Unfortunately I done stepped my foot in muddy water
Water, water
song performed by by Nine Days
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Contemporary Poetry (2)
contemporary poetry
is nice to read since they are
not cliches, very much unlike
shakespeare or
mary oliver
i 've seen one and read it
over and over again
it feels like
trickling rain from
my forehead to my
spine
like this:
rain
rain
go
away
come
back
an
other
d
a
y....
i am amazed
i think i will write about jack and jill went up the hill to get a pail of water.
jack forgot and
what is that? jill come rolling after?
the pail.
i am bitter.
sour i mean.
i don't belong
i am one kind of a frustrated contemp...
orary wri
ter.
well, i will try next time
i have to reread
bukowski's advice
i will wait
till the next tick.
oh well,
i got other things to do.
the grapes are sour anyway.
(cliche duh!)
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Rope The Moon
(jess brown/jim denton)
I dont have a lot to show
For these years of hard work
If you look at what I own
Still shes always telling me
To hold on to my dreams
Even when my hope is gone
Some may say that dreamings just for fools
And there are times I thought that might be true
But she thinks I could rope the moon
In her eyes there is nothing I cant do
When I think its out of reach
Shes the reason I still try
She thinks I could rope the moon
When I look at the sky
But cant see through the clouds
She shows me the brightest stars
If I think of coming back
cause Im having my doubts
She tells me Ive come so far
Nothing in this world comes easily
But I cant lose with her right next to me
cause she thinks I could rope the moon
In her eyes there is nothing I cant do
When I think its out of reach
Shes the reason I still try
She thinks I could rope the moon
Oh she thinks I could rope the moon
song performed by by John Michael Montgomery
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Light Of Day/Svjetlosni Dan
The thing standing by the well
Is not looking for a song
It wants a beat an echo and a fall
It wants a bottom bucket rope the water
It wants the hands that can find the way
To an abyss treasure and the light of day
Što kraj bunara stoji ne traži pjesmu
Ono hoće otkucaj eho jednog pada
Ono hoće dno vedro konop vodu
Ono hoće ruke koje znaju put
Do ponornog blaga i svjetlosnog dana
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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Muddy Mississippi
Chorus:
I can hardly see my face in the waters of the muddy mississippi
But I can see the shadows of the cotton wood standing over me
The morning sun would find me
Swinging from the rope thats hanging free
And I drop in to the waters
And go swimming in the muddy mississippi
A boy came to the delta
And we would swing together from that tree
I could see my dreams in his eyes
As he held on to me
Swinging in the sunlight
Loving in the shadows
Wild and free
And I made him promise he would take me
Down to new orleans
Bright lights of the city made my red dress and shoes look brand new
While he worked the night shift
I turned on and I turned loose
I lost my pride I lost my man
I did things a girl like me shouldnt do
Now I cant face this living
With the swelling signs of new life
Showing through
I can hardly see my face in the waters of the muddy mississippi
But I can see the shadows of the cotton wood standing over me
The morning sun would find me
Hanging from the rope thats swinging free
And Ill swing for the last time over the waters
Of the muddy mississippi
Yeah the muddy mississippi
song performed by by Reba Mcentire
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Skipping-Rope
SURE never yet was antelope
Could skip so lightly by.
Stand off, or else my skipping-rope
Will hit you in the eye.
How lightly Whirls the skipping-rope !
How fairy-like you fly !
Go, get you gone, you muse and mope -
I hate that silly sigh.
Nay, dearest, teach me how to hope,
Or tell me how to die.
There, take it, take my skipping-rope,
And hang yourself thereby.
poem by Alfred Lord Tennyson
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Birth Of Rope
A dangling rope is a relative to the unknown,
From the absorption of heat and cold the rope is alone;
Jostled by the windy weather, a bit of string is enough
To relish the conduct of war, the machine always rough.
A rope inhabited me from the start, and the end,
I must work towards a safer future to backbend;
The stringing of life with life applies a fortune,
This mania may be lucky or not, like abortion.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Such, Such Is Death
Such, such is Death: no triumph: no defeat:
Only an empty pail, a slate rubbed clean,
A merciful putting away of what has been.
And this we know: Death is not Life, effete,
Life crushed, the broken pail. We who have seen
So marvellous things know well the end not yet.
Victor and vanquished are a-one in death:
Coward and brave: friend, foe. Ghosts do not say,
"Come, what was your record when you drew breath?"
But a big blot has hid each yesterday
So poor, so manifestly incomplete.
And your bright Promise, withered long and sped,
Is touched, stirs, rises, opens and grows sweet
And blossoms and is you, when you are dead.
poem by Charles Hamilton Sorley
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United We Rise
Old man cried- let’s go fetch some water
grab a pail in each hand and let’s go.
Very far, to the pond in the holler,
then we’ll quench our thirst with that water!
Everyone today has forgotten
what it’s like to haul water in a pail.
Every farmer now has a pride,
that he has a watery pool, as well.
Oh City Riders! -You must have a green lawn
to keep it looking really good!
The water you waste on that green grass
could be used by the farmer to grow food.
Don’t waste all of that precious water.
We have worked too hard to harness here.
We can’t live without that precious water
let’s be thankful that it is so near.
Don’t be taking the water from the farmer
without it his crops will never grow.
All of life depends upon the water
Don’t take it for granted anymore.
You live on our labour on land,
Can’t you spare your comfort
With a pure and just thought
That’ll yield a greenery band.
The committee today we did shape
And resolved not to be parted with,
The little drops of water that came
From the earth beneath.
United we rise, Divided we fall,
Water- must we conserve
Before it is let go diverge
Lest anything may befall.
We vowed to rotation of crop
Mother earth can sleep quite,
And remain fertile and sharp
Keeping the rest happy and delight.
Revolutions after Revolutions
White, Blue and Green,
The Rainbow we started
Has garlanded all that’ll ever shine.
poem by Pradeep Mohanty
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