I Remember That Day In My Life
'twas early morning
when i climbed
the mango tree
and at the top
i sat on the big branch
for a long time
i looked at the
tranquility of the barrio
where i spent
my childhood
i breathed the air
filled my lungs with
so much peace
i did not have anything in mind
except that little escape
from every day's boredom
'twas a day without words.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

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At Dawn
Early in the morning;
Before the Sun had come;
A cool breeze was blowing;
I walked up and down.
Neighbours were still sleeping;
The weather was so cold;
All was very quiet;
Except the chirp of Birds!
It had been much raining;
All through the previous night;
Coffee having taken,
I pranced like a kite.
‘Twas a Sunday morning!
And all would get up late;
Just the noise of motors,
Was in the far-off roads.
The Air was quite freshn’ing,
I breathed and breathed and breathed;
I saw a group of black clouds;
In the Sky inter-weaved.
The plants seemed so smiling;
Their leaves were green and fresh;
The ground was wet, sodden;
And showed some sprouts afresh.
Plantain-trees looked stately;
Their green leaves so well-spread;
I saw green leaf-cutters!
On Moringa-tree leaves.
I had a good night’s sleep;
The family left for hol’s;
I listened to the noise,
Of insects ‘neath the leaves.
Two trees had delivered,
A bunch of bananas each!
One was so much sagging;
The trunk would break, it seemed!
The Sky now brightened up;
The Sun still nowhere seen;
As if someone would come,
The garden next look’d clean.
I stretch’d my limbs few times,
Aiming to breathe better;
I had a bout of cough,
By now, ’twas almost Dawn!
Soon the Air got filled up,
With noise of various Birds;
They flew in joy, singing;
Another Dawn was born!
poem by John Celes

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I had no Cause to be awake
542
I had no Cause to be awake—
My Best—was gone to sleep—
And Morn a new politeness took—
And failed to wake them up—
But called the others—clear—
And passed their Curtains by—
Sweet Morning—when I oversleep—
Knock—Recollect—to Me—
I looked at Sunrise—Once—
And then I looked at Them—
And wishfulness in me arose—
For Circumstance the same—
'Twas such an Ample Peace—
It could not hold a Sigh—
'Twas Sabbath—with the Bells divorced—
'Twas Sunset—all the Day—
So choosing but a Gown—
And taking but a Prayer—
The only Raiment I should need—
I struggled—and was There—
poem by Emily Dickinson

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Wake Nicodemus!
Nicodemus, the slave was of African birth,
And was bought for a bagful of gold;
He was reckon'd as part of the salt of the earth,
But he died years ago, very old.
'Twas his last sad request as we laid him away
In the trunk of an old hollow tree;
"Wake me up!" was his charge, "at the first break of day --
Wake me up for the great Jubilee!"
The "Good Time Coming" is almost here!
It was long, long, long on the way!
Now run and tell Elijah to hurry up Pump,
And meet me at the gumtree in the swamp
To wake Nicodemus today.
He was known as a prophet -- at least was as wise --
For he told of the battles to come;
And we trembled with dread when he roll'd up his eyes,
And we heeded the shake of his thumb.
Though he clothed us with fear, yet the garments he wore
Were in patches at elbow and knees;
And he still wears the suit that he used to of yore,
As he sleeps in the old hollow tree.
Nicodemus was never the sport of the lash,
Though the bullet has oft cross'd his path;
There were none of his masters so brave or so rash
As to face such a man in his wrath.
Yet his great heart with kindness was filled to the brim --
He obeyed who was born to command;
But he long'd for the morning which then was so dim --
For the morning which now is at hand.
'Twas a long weary night -- we were almost in fear
That the future was more than he knew;
'Twas a long weary night -- but the morning is near,
And the words of our prophet are true.
There are signs in the sky that the darkness is gone --
There are tokens in endless array;
While the storm which had seemingly banished the dawn,
Only hastens the advent of day.
poem by Henry Clay Work

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Of Caterpillars and Childhood
We were childhood playmates
Way back in the late fifties
She was sort of a retardate,
We children were not aware of this.
One day we climbed a guava tree
And Celia (that's her name)
Tried to climb the tree with me
How we enjoyed that racing game!
On a stronger branch I sat
My brother climbed the other
As Celia climbed I noticed that
Green caterpillars were all over!
I jumped off that tree so fast
And my brother followed suit
Celia tried to get off, alas!
A caterpillar stuck to her foot.
She held to a branch in fear
Her hand crushed the green thing there
With a scream she let go, oh dear!
She fell on her back with a holler!
Her grandma came rushing over
As we laughed at the silly crying
But out came our angry Mother
And we were in for a big scolding.
Looking back I have my regret
I have not been able to say 'Sorry'
My friend was one I will never forget
So for her, I write this little story.
poem by Cynthia Buhain-Baello

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15th AUGUST,1998 in INDIA
My sleep got disturbed, thrice that day;
I could not sleep tho’ a holiday;
My mind was filled with thoughts unclear;
I got up in the morn, much earlier;
‘Twas India’s Independence Day!
Thunder, lightning filled the night’s Sky;
The day much overcast did fly;
The Rain was just a drizzle that day;
Wetted the ground of mud and clay;
‘Twas 15th of August, a rainy day.
The pea-birds howled and groaned that night;
The Rain made them shiver with fright;
Though ten, it looked like six in the morn;
The Sun behind the clouds had gone;
The Sky ground-glass remained that day.
The leaky tap-waters that fell,
Raised wavelets, ploppy-toned and swell;
Rain-drops on cables looked like pearls;
Dropped, formed again, enticing souls;
It looked it would rain long that day.
Rain-drops hanging beneath fir-twigs;
Glittered in the scarce light like figs;
The whole tree was aglow, alit;
A thing of beauty, don’t miss it!
The Sky looked like a barred-white board!
A frail, brown-skinned, bony human,
With sack on head, bent-back, he ran!
The Indian was agonizing!
Tho’ people keep sermonizing!
Fifty years after Independence!
What good was done for the common-man?
poem by John Celes

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Early In The Morning
Early in the morning and I cant get right
Had a little date with my baby last night
Now its early in the morning (early in the morning)
Well its early in the morning (early in the morning)
Now its early in the morning
And I aint got nothing but the blues
Went to all the places where we used to go
Went to your house but you dont live there no more
Now its early in the morning (early in the morning)
Well its early in the morning (early in the morning)
Early in the morning
And I aint got nothing but the blues
Went to your friends house but she was out
Knock on your fathers door and he began to shout get out there boy
Early in the morning (early in the morning)
Early in the morning (early in the morning)
Early in the morning
And I aint got nothing but the blues
Went to doogie chain to get something to eat
Waiter looked at me and said you sure look beat
Now its early in the morning (early in the morning)
Early in the morning (early in the morning)
Well its early in the morning
And I aint got nothing but the blues
Well its early in the morning
And I aint got nothing but the blues
Well its early in the morning
And I aint got nothing but the blues
song performed by by Van Morrison

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Escape.... The.... Fate....
She ran ran as running was to escape
escape escape went through her mind
escape escape she beg she ran she screams through out her lungs
ESCAPE! ! ! ! she screamed she ran ran
She tries tries she begs begs to escape escape
she screams through out her lungs
She ran ran she beg beg she screamed ESCAPE! ! ! !
escape escape ran through her mind
mind all over her future future of
the fate fate she ran ran to escape escape
she beg beg she screams through out her lungs
ESCAPE THE FATE! ! ! !
she ran ran till theirs no tomorrow
until the end of her fate
she beg beg she tries tries to escape escape
she screams through out her lungs
ESCAPE THE FATE! ! ! !
The end The end approaches to her
as fate fate is left behind
she escapes escapes
the fate fate she screams
she screams through out her lungs
ESCAPE THE FATE! ! ! !
poem by Linda Anguiano

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I Had No Need
I had no need to be awake.
'Twas better in my bed.
The thought of facing life without him
was a thought better dead.
I had no need to open my eyes.
'Twas better not to see.
The thought of seeing the sun without him
was devastating to me.
I had no need to know the time.
'Twas better that time slip away.
The thought of time lingering now
is endless time each day.
There are no needs that now are mine.
'Twas a time I had them all.
We woke, we saw and knew the time,
now too hurtful to recall.
poem by Edwina Reizer

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Under The Mango Tree
i like the idea
of doing many things under the mango tree
like
watching time go by like it is a stranger
and i
am a stranger too watching time pass by
like i am so interested
with what time
can do to me
making me old
making the mango tree bloom and flower and have fruits
and they are so many
that the mango tree bends
to the ground
and time stays for a while and ripens the fruits
and make all of them
in time
fall one by one to the ground
like some kind
of withered flowers
luscious, sweet, fruits of the mango tree
falling
by the slightest passing of the wind
and then the children
come and with all joy
pick them one by one
putting what they can
under
their shirts and still rushing
to keep
and take some more
under the mango tree
all the people
are so much alike
the rushing, the taking, the joy
of always having more
and it will never stop
as i watch time slowly go by
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

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November's Chill
For 'twas in November's month
the change of guards took place
the month my heart fell to sleep
For 'twas in that darken time
our Love slowly faded away
and in passing, our words were few.
And I am left lonely an' oh so cold.....
For 'twas in November's month
we became two ships in passing
entering port's harbour at separate times
For 'twas in that lonely state
two hearts screamed of Love
and the sheets never warmed again.
And I am left lonely an' oh so cold.......
For 'twas in Novembers month
we tasted Love once again
and like the first time I know home
For 'twas in that lonely bed
separately we lay our heads
yet in dream, you are near as am I
No longer left lonely an' oh so cold...........
poem by Geoff Warden

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Breathe
Breathe your life...
Ive got to come down
Ive been awake for far too long
My eyes look torn, they were so strong
I wore the crown, I wrote the song
Now its fading
My heart was open
Like a window to a summer breeze
I breaaaathed your love,
I filled my lungs and veins
And I breaaathed your love
Until I felt the pain
And like rain it slipped away
I tried to find out
What love was realy all about
Behind the curtain waits the sky
Its rare I feel enough to cry
Im drying up inside
My life was open
Like a window to the summer breeze
I breathed your love,
I filled my lungs and veins
And I breathed your love
Until I met the pain and like rain
It slipped away, just like a little rain.
I breathed your love
And nothing stayed the same.
Yes, I breathed your love
And filled my heart in vain cos like rain
It slipped away, just like rain it swept away.
song performed by by Roxette

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Y.. Tree of Life
The tree of life
It has a branch
A money making branch
The bigger the money making branch
The more comfortable our life
But if the money making branch
Is the only branch
On our tree of life
It is such an ugly and unstable tree.
A prayer and devotion branch
Will stabilize the tree of life
Let it be a real big branch
On your tree of life
But if only two branches on a tree
Imagine how ugly it would still be!
So let there be branches
Of Affability and Charity
Of Cheerfulness and Friendliness
Of Gentleness and Honesty
Of Humility and Compassion
Of Spirituality and Wisdom
Of Courage and Hard work
With these branches present,
It will carry soon the lush greenery
Of love and job satisfaction
And soon enough, the tree of life
Will bear the fruits
Of peace of mind and happiness.
A wonderful tree of life I wish you
with many fine branches
and lots of greenery and fruits.
poem by Aufie Zophy

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Early Works - Emptiness
The sun rose this morning
to herald a beautiful day
the sky was blue
birds flew on currents of wind
but my mind has been filled
with confusion and torment
of which way to go.
I’ve looked at the horizons
and dreams of being there
to warm in the sunshine
of a lovely spring day.
Work is unfortunate
but has to be done.
It keeps us away from our dreams
our hopes and our prayers.
We’re trapped on a treadmill
where there seems no escape
from morning until night,
day in, day out,
year in, year out.
The only escape is a hole in the ground
eternal peace they call it,
but you know nothing
as nothing survives.
17 March 2003
poem by David Harris

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My Dream About You
My grief 'twas unendurable
Suffocating each instant in my breaths sigh
Ne'er to forget the reality that 'twas you
Forever as the Benediction of light in the sky;
Oh, that final moment still tarrys too long
All the flowers burned in a pyre of despair
I looked for a book of answers or an anthem
Suffering 'twas almost too much to bear;
I chose to praise your inner beauty and balance
Loosing myself in the immortal life stream
Recalling your face in a fragment of sweet memory
Oh, how blessed, are those who can still dream;
poem by Theodora Onken

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Twas Love—not me
394
'Twas Love—not me—
Oh punish—pray—
The Real one died for Thee—
Just Him—not me—
Such Guilt—to love Thee—most!
Doom it beyond the Rest—
Forgive it—last—
'Twas base as Jesus—most!
Let Justice not mistake—
We Two—looked so alike—
Which was the Guilty Sake—
'Twas Love's—Now Strike!
poem by Emily Dickinson

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Early Morning Cold Taxi
3:36, its cold, I know Im growing old,
With lifes best side on the downward slope,
Its in my own hands, I know Ill cope,
My girls with me and all my friends can see.
Here I am again,
Early morning cold taxi.
Early morning cold taxi.
Done it before, do it again,
Know from experience its not in vain,
Shes the best Ive had, I cannot see, what someone else can do to me.
Its a long way home but loves so warm, youll see.
Here I am again,
Early morning cold taxi.
Early morning cold taxi.
Early morning cold taxi,
Each time I do it, I feel so down and out,
Early morning cold taxi,
though my mind thinks strange Ill keep on, no doubt.
3:36, its cold, I know Im growing old,
One day well be wed,
This I know for its what she said,
Then no more will my mind be uneasy.
Early morning cold taxi,
Each time I do it, I feel so down and out,
Early morning cold taxi,
though my mind thinks strange Ill keep on, no doubt.
3:36, its cold, I know Im growing old,
One day well be wed,
This I know for its what she said,
Then no more will my mind be uneasy.
Here I am again,
Early morning cold taxi.
Early morning cold taxi.
song performed by by Who

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Early Morning Silence
Sitting in the early morning silence
that hasn’t filled with
the approaching days gloom.
That time when the mind
has a chance to run free.
The early morning silence
when no one is around.
The intrusive world has not
invaded our space with idle chatter
from sources that surround us
making up our daily lives.
The early morning silence
we need to activate our mind.
You sit in the darkness
just before the dawn appears
enjoying the solitary that is temporary stillness
brings to your ears.
The early morning silence
when no one is around.
16 September 2010
poem by David Harris

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Polyphemus
Twas a sick young man with a face ungay
And an eye that was all alone;
And he shook his head in a hopeless way
As he sat on a roadside stone.
'O, ailing youth, what untoward fate
Has made the sun to set
On your mirth and eye?' 'I'm constrained to state
I'm an ex-West Point cadet.
''Twas at cannon-practice I got my hurt
And my present frame of mind;
For the gun went off with a double spurt-
Before it, and also behind!'
'How sad, how sad, that a fine young chap,
When studying how to kill,
Should meet with so terrible a mishap
Precluding eventual skill.
'Ah, woful to think that a weapon made
For mowing down the foe
Should commit so dreadful an escapade
As to turn about to mow!'
No more he heeded while I condoled:
He was wandering in his mind;
His lonely eye unconsidered rolled,
And his views he thus defined:
''Twas O for a breach of the peace-'twas O
For an international brawl!
But a piece of the breech-ah no, ah no,
I didn't want that at all.'
poem by Ambrose Bierce

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Natures Gift...
'Twas early morn' of destiny
on the run of delivery
moth'r nature gave me her kiss
an' filled my morn' with such bliss
The sky a dark color o' gray
ice crystals dance wilst at play
mornin's lite sparkle with speck
as I marvel at the prancin' flecks
Twas early morn' of destiny
the sun would shine upon the scene
An ' a kiss from moth'r catch me eye
with her kiss of love upon the sky
A January more held the mystic view
A rainbow to add shine on through.........
GJW 11 / 02 / 07
poem by Geoff Warden

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Boasting About Trees
There you stood among other trees
In a garden of legendary emeralds
Your luxuriant leaves waving to the heavens
You arresting branches kissing the sky
Honey cannot be compared to thee
You are my mango tree
My enraptured eyes are still swimming in bliss
From the first time they saw you
Untouched, unspoiled and unsurpassed
Flora of such sublime character
Honey cannot be compared to thee
You are my mango tree
My heart swims in the deluge of desire
Sweet songs of attraction, passion and fire
It is you that awakens my appetite
My dulcet cynosure
Honey cannot be compared to thee
You are my mango tree
Others may boast of oranges and apples
Grapes and pears and pomegranates too
I will be silent until I talk of you
And from my lips will dropp the words
Honey cannot be compared to thee
You are my mango tree
poem by Howard Simon

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