Illusions Of The Reality Of Grief....
there will be discontents
expected, not at all strange
but to be a casualty of such
lack, what misfortune
can that be,
be simple, take patience
on slow doses
what discontent is there
soon can be
cured
life can be nothing but a sigh
smoke your boring hours
let that white spirit rise
to the chimney and then to the skies
take a deep breathe
ponder, the journey soon shall be over
there will be meetings
of joys and bliss
then you leave all things behind
like the eddies of the dusts in the air
like the bubbles of soap
you think they were all big
ah, they're nothing....
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Related quotes
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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Bogus Doses
Your rolling overexposed bogus doses aren't deep.
To keep them away from a 'vision'.
Your rolling overexposed bogus doses aren't deep.
To keep them away from a 'vision'.
Don't leave with a notion to soak,
Your bogus doses will get any info from me.
To keep me away from what's been 'visioned'.
Your rolling overexposed bogus doses aren't deep.
Not deep enough to cloud...
A 'vision'.
Your rolling overexposed bogus doses aren't deep,
To keep them away from the 'vision'.
Whatever that you do,
Has been done and 'thunked! '
With a doing of it in most eyes like a basketball dunked.
Swish, swoosh that's it.
And people who have seen this have a 'vision'.
You can't exchange the truth for a dollar.
Or change its appearance to ensure it fits.
Swish, swoosh that's it.
And people who have seen this have a 'vision'.
And people who have seen this have a 'vision'.
Swish, swoosh that's it.
Swish, swoosh that's it.
And people who have seen this have a 'vision'.
Take your bogus doses.
People who have seen this have a 'vision'.
And to witness focused.
Whatever that you do,
Has been done and 'thunked! '
With a doing of it in most eyes like a basketball dunked.
Swish, swoosh that's it.
Swish, swoosh that's it.
And people who have seen this have a 'vision'.
Now take your bogus doses.
Take your bogus doses.
Now take your bogus doses...
Away, away!
Now take your bogus doses.
Take your bogus doses.
Now take your bogus doses...
Away!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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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
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Smoke
smoke from the chimney
rises to the sky
and then gone
like us, did you not notice?
we are from here
this heart and then in pain
we rise up
we mix in space
there, do you see still us?
i do not see me anymore
i am fog dissolving in the morning
i am mist dissipating on glass
i am smoke
rising to the sky from the chimney
and then gone....
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Strange
How many wrinkles in a pickle
How many hairs in a head
How many waves in the ocean
How many crumbs in bed
But last but not least, but baby most of all
Why do I mmmumble everytime you call
Chorus
Because youre strange to me baby
Oh, youre good to me mama
Well, I admit you are strange
But baby please dont change
I know I belong with you
How many bubbles in soap
How many chewings in gum
How many rolls in a wheel
Where did eyeballs come from
But last but not least
But baby most of all
Why do I mmmumble everytime you call
(chorus)
How many blanks in a blanket
How many cuts in a knife
How strong is a bedbug
And how deep is his bite
But last but not least
But baby most of all
Why do I mmmumble everytime you call
(chorus)
Stange you got a big double head and one bloodshot eye
Strange you got five double chins...? ? ?
Strange your knees look like the knees on a billy goat
Strange you got two left legs ...? ? ?
Strange theres something wrong with you I dont know what it is
Strange Im gonna leave you alone, gonna leave you like this
song performed by by Elvis Costello
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Casualty
(bliss)
Driving home I was miles away
When I thought that I saw your face
Late at night, a lightning flash
Put reality in its place
I never saw the warning signs
til it was too late
Im a casualty
A victim of my own circumstance
A casualty a hopeless case
That never stood a chance at all
I never knew what hit me
Like somebody put out the light
I was going crazy
Couldnt tell if it was day or night
I must have lost direction
A simple hit and run
Chorus
Out of control on a one way street
Feeling myself beginning to slide
Out of my head too blind to see
That you were there just for the ride
Living this life in tragedy
Why did this happen to me
Chorus
I never stood a chance
Im a casualty x3
song performed by by Hollies
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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For Your Short Life
Bogies
My cat's name
daughter brought
since I was a baby
now bogies always
I welcome
each home from work
fun to watch while my wife
sinetron continued 'Fitr'
the pervasive spirit
new generation of cultural products
soap opera
shallow and tends to
mendangkalkan meaning of life
into the foam soap
falsity bubbles
short life
which is too shallow
poem by Prasetya Utama
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Freedom To Move In Opposite Directions
we need space
we are the free souls
every wall is a choking hand
we find it hard to breathe
we have been these two parallel lines
we converge and make outbursts of joys
we soon get tired
joys are boring too
we know it
we need space
we go in opposite directions now
trying to see what is there
in the world where we both do not live
i do not think of coming back
i think you think the same way
we are happier now
moving to another journey
we are not hurt
neither do we fear
the strangeness of freedom
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Pan Within
Come with me
On a journey beneath the skin
Come with me
On a journey under the skin
We will look together
For the pan within
Close your eyes
Breathe slow well begin
Close your eyes
Breathe slow and we will begin
To look together
For the pan within
Swing your hips
Loose your head, and let it spin
Swing your hips
Loose you head, and let it spin
And we will look together
For the pan within
Close your eyes
Breathe slow and we will begin
Close your eyes
Breathe slow and we will begin
To look together
For the pan within
Put your face in my window
Breathe a night full of treasures
The wind is delicious
Sweet and wild with the promise of pleasure
The stars are alive
And nights like these
Were born to be
Sanctified by you and me
Lovers, thieves, fools and pretenders
And all we gotta do is surrender
Come with me
On a journey under the skin
Come with me
On a journey under the skin
And we will look together
For the pan within
When to be with you
Is not a sin
When to be with you, oh just to be with you
Is not a sin
We will look together
For the pan within
song performed by by Waterboys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Pan Within
Come with me
On a journey beneath the skin
Come with me
On a journey under the skin
We will look together
For the pan within
Close your eyes
Breathe slow well begin
Close your eyes
Breathe slow and we will begin
To look together
For the pan within
Swing your hips
Loose your head, and let it spin
Swing your hips
Loose you head, and let it spin
And we will look together
For the pan within
Close your eyes
Breathe slow and we will begin
Close your eyes
Breathe slow and we will begin
To look together
For the pan within
Put your face in my window
Breathe a night full of treasures
The wind is delicious
Sweet and wild with the promise of pleasure
The stars are alive
And nights like these
Were born to be
Sanctified by you and me
Lovers, thieves, fools and pretenders
And all we gotta do is surrender
Come with me
On a journey under the skin
Come with me
On a journey under the skin
And we will look together
For the pan within
When to be with you
Is not a sin
When to be with you, oh just to be with you
Is not a sin
We will look together
For the pan within
song performed by by Waterboys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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REST STOPS (In Life's Journey)
When our days are packed to the full
When our faith is clouded with doubts
When we feel our journey is nonsense
When we feel we work for nothing
When our life is killed with boredom
Or just let the time pass idly by,
We will walk through life aimlessly
Unless we take rest stops.
Rest stops
Instances when we ponder
We ponder on the journey of our lives
Our success, our failures
Before God, we will bring them all
And let it be lessons learned
Rising from our rest stops
With hearts renewed
With new confidence
We will continue our journey
With a new life, a new beginning.
When we are tired
Lets take our rest stops
And rise again, continue the journey
A life change for the better
A journey change forever.
_mAia_
5: 20pm
091909
Dedicated to all...especially to Ate Meggie...
poem by Maia Padua
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Showing The True Color
when i wake up this early morning
she was not already beside me.
i do not want to rise and fold the blanket
and go somewhere else.
or read the papers, or sip coffee, there is
this laziness that infects my bones, a disease
of meaning, another slow day, the routine is
eating me, and i behave
in a manner that i am like a lame duck being
aimed at by all the bystanders
i am opening my eyes, and the ceiling is off
white, it has been that way ever since i got married,
why did i leave it that way? i have the money to have
it painted pure white, like a very clean slate where
i can write what i must mean, but i didn't, i let things
that way they are from the beginning, and perhaps
they will still be at the end. This is what i do next,
always always i do this: i rise from my bed, go to my
circular mirror and look at my face, they also do it,
and then i touch my cheeks and chin, feeling the roughness
of the beard, how they have grown long and so untidy,
the razor is ready, and the soap and water, but this time
i will do what i cannot do the other days of my life,
i will not trim the unruly ones, i will not wash my face,
i may slap myself, and then i give the mirror the grin
of the man that is used to all these doubts and shame.
i will tell it, i am now myself.And then i will the bathroom
another tune for my whistle, nobody, nobody but me.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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They who lack talent expect things to happen without effort. They ascribe failure to a lack of inspiration or ability, or to misfortune, rather than to insufficient application. At the core of every true talent there is an awareness of the difficulties inherent in any achievement, and the confidence that by persistence and patience something worthwhile will be realized. Thus talent is a species of vigor.
quote by Eric Hoffer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sunny Skies
Sunny skies sleeps in the morning
He doesnt know when to rise
He closes his weary eyes upon the day
Look at him yawning
Throwing his morning hours away
He knows how to ease down slowly
Everything is fine in the end
And you will be pleased to know
That sunny skies hasnt a friend
Sunny skies weeps in the evening
It doesnt much matter why
I guess he just has to cry from time to time
Everyones leaving
And sunny skies has to stay behind
Still he knows how to ease down slow
Everything is fine in the end
And you will be pleased to know
That sunny skies hasnt a friend
Sunny skies sleeps in the morning
He doesnt know when to rise
He closes his weary eyes upon the day
And throws it all away
Looking at the snow and trees that grow
Outside my window
Looking at the things that passed me by
Wondering if where Ive been is worth
The things Ive been through
Ending with a friend named sunny skies
song performed by by James Taylor
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Logical And Relevant Professor
How can you explain
The sure serenity of a silent shadow,
The malevolence of maleness
The expenses of expectations
The fairness of pain?
We think of those hidden in
White winters, and those appearing
Blueness in blue skies, or just
Plain jealousy of the seasons,
Strummed and stung
by reason dung
We blow all those soap bubbles
Off to the sky
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Simple Pleasures
The simple pleasures in life are best.
Spending time with speacial freinds.
Letting them know that they depend.
You'll always be there to defend.
Taking time to sit and think.
To ponder how great the world can be.
Sit and read while drinking tea.
It's all a splendid treat for me.
A peaceful walk down in the park.
Taking in it's gorgeous spark.
The precious wonders are so stark.
Listening to music that gives you hope.
These simple pleasures are what I need.
So life doesn't grow tired and boring.
Enjoy them all because life is short.
Cherish these things inside your heart.
poem by Michael McParland
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Keep It Clean
Keep it clean.
Every crack your packing.
Soap it up and down.
Rinse that dirt away.
Keep it clean.
Every crack your packing.
Soap it up and down.
Rinse that dirt away.
So hard they've tried to reflect perfection.
A wholesome outlook,
With good deeds done they do!
They want to project a godlike self righteousness.
With wings adorned and hymns sung!
Angelic voices from everyone,
Harmonizing,
In collective united bliss.
But the truth about this...
There is BS that sits within their midst,
And not one of them can resist
An addicting sniff!
Since they are all full of it!
Keep it clean.
Every crack your packing.
Soap it up and down.
Rinse that dirt away.
Keep it clean.
Every crack your packing.
Soap it up and down.
Rinse that dirt away.
Something kept stinking...
From fat greasy meat.
Suited and smoking cigars,
Chartering planes with high profiled stars.
And posing with those who piloted...
The sucking up of all resources.
As admirers rejoiced!
Thinking they heard 'voices' from beyond...
'You too could live like this!
We'll make sure of it! '
Keep it clean.
Every crack your packing.
Soap it up and down.
Rinse that dirt away.
Keep it clean.
Every crack your packing.
Soap it up and down.
Rinse that dirt away.
Screwing fools!
'Keep it clean! '
That's what they do best!
'Keep the scene serene.
Deodorize the stench that leaks.
Protect that image.
And hide the blood left...
To leave as expected on urban streets! '
Keep it clean.
Every crack your packing.
Soap it up and down.
Rinse that dirt away.
Keep it clean.
Every crack your packing.
Soap it up and down.
Rinse that dirt away.
By the time it surfaces...
There will be nothing left to squander.
And the fools we duped with treason,
Will have nothing left to value...
And very little to say!
Keep it clean.
Every crack your packing.
Soap it up and down.
Rinse that dirt away.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Life. Its Reaason And Seasons
Life is a journey with a heart full of love so deep as the ocean.
Then along the way we are met with many a variable emotions.
Sometimes we fail to live the life we planned and had in mind.
So we seek solace in a life that we never expected to ever find..
Simple things can blossom into a beauty, so precious and rare.
When ordinary becomes extra-ordinary, with tender loving care
And those memories special flow into the hearts forever more
Like the oceans waves that keeps on running into the sandy shore…
poem by Shirani Ibrahim
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Breathing
Outside
Gets inside
Through her skin.
Ive been out before
But this time its much safer in.
Last night in the sky,
Such a bright light.
My radar send me danger
But my instincts tell me to keep
Breathing,
(out, in, out, in, out, in...)
Breathing,
Breathing my mother in,
Breathing my beloved in,
Breathing,
Breathing her nicotine,
Breathing,
Breathing the fall-out in,
Out in, out in, out in, out in.
Weve lost our chance.
Were the first and the last, ooh,
After the blast.
Chips of plutonium
Are twinkling in every lung.
I love my
Beloved, ooh,
All and everywhere,
Only the fools blew it.
You and me
Knew life itself is
Breathing,
(out, in, out, in, out...)
Breathing,
Breathing my mother in,
Breathing my beloved in,
Breathing,
Breathing her nicotine,
Breathing,
Breathing the fall-out in,
Out in, out in, out in, out in,
Out in, out in, out in, out...
(out!)
In point of fact it is possible to tell the
(out!)
Difference between a small nuclear explosion and
A large one by a very simple method. the calling
Card of a nuclear bomb is the blinding flash that
Is far more dazzling than any light on earth--brighter
Even than the sun itself--and it is by the duration
Of this flash that we are able to determine the size
(what are we going to do without? )
Of the weapon. after the flash a fireball can be
Seen to rise, sucking up under it the debris, dust
And living things around the area of the explosion,
And as this ascends, it soon becomes recognisable
As the familiar mushroom cloud. as a demonstration
Of the flash duration test lets try and count the
Number of seconds for the flash emitted by a very
Small bomb; then a more substantial, medium-sized
Bomb; and finally, one of our very powerful,
High-yield bombs
What are we going to do without?
Ooh please!
What are we going to do without?
Let me breathe!
What are we going to do without?
Ooh, quick!
We are all going to die without!
Breathe in deep!
What are we going to die without?
Leave me something to breathe!
We are all going to die without!
Oh, leave me something to breathe!
What are we going to do without?
Oh, god, please leave us something to breathe!
We are all going to die without
Oh, life is--breathing.
song performed by by Kate Bush
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Life Is Like A Pathway
Life is like a pathway,
as you walk down the road
of life,
you will see many sorrows,
and many joys will come.
Life will pass swiftly by,
youth will someday seem
as nothing but a dream.
Life as days go by,
down this road you journey
will be just a memory in your mind.
Life is like a pathway
as you walk down the road
of life.
Your now at journey's end
looking back you wonder
and ponder of chances
you had.
Unless they have covered you
with dirt, there's still hope
to fulfill your dreams
down this pathway of life.