In Reply To Jean's Theory Of Asexuality
Once you ask me
Why I live among
The distant hills
I just smile
I do not make replies
I do not really care
I stare in your eyes
Like you are a river
And I have no fear
And my thoughts
Flow like leaves
Falling from tall, old,
Trees
Blown into the unknown
I realize and
You too must
I have a world of my own
Apart from yours
And the rest
Of Everyone.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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in reply to jean's theory of asexuality
Once you ask me
Why I live among
The distant hills
I just smile
I do not make replies
I do not really care
I stare in your eyes
Like you are a river
And I have no fear
And my thoughts
Flow like leaves
Falling from tall, old,
Trees
Blown into the unknown
I realize and
You too must
I have a world of my own
Apart from yours
And the rest
Of Everyone.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Speaking The Words Of Loneliness....
i speak the words of loneliness
it flows with the rush of the river
it flies with the wind from the west
it is blown towards you
who live at the foot of the mountain
under the tall trees
this worm waits when will be the next
leaves come
when will be the next bloom of flowers
in the middle of my
drought.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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There's fear in my eyes
No sorrows in my life
No enemies to fight
There are thousand reasons to smile
Yet there's fear in my eyes
Sweet dreams to see
Beautiful day to live
There are many reasons to love
Yet there's fear in my eyes
No fire to burn
No darkness to curse
No valleys to fall
Yet there's fear in my eyes
A Mother to love
A Father to care
A sweet family to live with
Yet there's fear in my eyes
All friend with me
No enemies far mile
There are all relations of truth
Yet there's fear in my eyes
Showers of blessings on me
All smiling faces for me
All words of love for me
Yet there's fear in my eyes
But what I fear for I'm unknown
What? When all these things will go
And I'll be left all alone?
And for all these things I'll have to say bye! !
May be for this reason
There's fear in my eyes
There's fear in my eyes
poem by Differently Indifferent
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Through My Eyes
I believe-
I believe my thoughts are being broadcasted
I believe you can see my world through my eyes-
When your eyes are closed, I believe that you can hear my thoughts
My thoughts that speak of persecution and threat
These thoughts, as directed towards the rest of the world.
I place my hands over my eyes so that
What is inside of mind does not become
The literature of other people-
Even though my thoughts are silent
When your eyes make contact with mine,
All that I am thinking screams out to you and
I know you wish to harm me.
I believe-
I believe I am being threatened
Being threatened by those who follow my path,
Walking behind me, and somehow
Knowing my destination-
The leaves upon the trees have fallen in autumn and
Now the trees are barren, and I have no place to hide.
This whole world has become the enemy.
I believe my thoughts are broadcasted as I walk,
Kicking aside stones and the leaves that have fallen-
Snow has fallen upon the edge of time and
I stand upon the edge of time, counting the minutes-
Counting every second before the whole world knows of
The anger, hurt and my thoughts misconstrued,
That are torturing me every day and every night-
All I can do is to keep on walking and hope
That one day this mistrust of the world shall
Heal inside my troubled mind and somebody’s eyes
Will make contact with mine and say
“it doesn’t matter to me what you are thinking because
You are a person with a heart and a soul like everyone else and
I believe we all have faults-“ I look towards the sky searching for an increment of hope A world exists inside of me- a beautiful world I hope someday will not matter
If I let somebody inside to see- to know my destination and
I won’t need to hide anymore- when spring comes flowers shall blossom and
Leaves shall grow in the summer- and in the autumn leaves shall turn colors and fall-
I shall continue my journey towards the day I can learn to trust the world around me,
As I kick aside the stones and the fallen leaves as I walk-
With my eyes open to the world, my spirit, unafraid.
Claudia Krizay
poem by Claudia Krizay
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Dark River
Swift 'n deep you run “Dark River”
Flowing relentless to a distant sea
You care not what gets in your way
Oh, impassive taker and faux-giver
How many canyons have you carved?
How many great trees carried away?
How many sins have washed clean?
Not even Mother Nature you obey
Dark River brought love to me
Then quickly washed it away
Deep ‘neath a million ripples
My fragile heart she did betray
Flow on Dark River, flow on
A Briny fate awaits, flow on
ROTMS
poem by Ray Lucero
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Beyond The Distant Hills
The sun is shining for me,
beyond the distant hills.
Where my love is waiting,
for my return.
The water is sweet to drink,
beyond the distant hills,
where a warm fire is waiting,
for my return.
The grass bends in the breeze,
beyond the distant hills.
Where my love’s heart yearns
for my return.
A candle lights a window,
beyond the distant hills.
Where someone keeps a watchful eye,
for my return.
Beyond the distant hills,
where no clouds gather,
and no storms darken the sky.
Beyond the distant hills,
bright eyes wait for my return.
Beyond the distant hills,
my dreams will come true,
and I promised myself one day I will get there.
25 April 1988
poem by David Harris
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One summer when the wind was strong
This is the place, now we are here again
I remember that summer when the wind was strong
And everything around us was dry,
The acacia trees towered and showered us with
Round leaves falling and falling and falling
Some birds were there and they flew away
Some cars were there and they speeded away
It was getting dark and it was a dry summer
We stayed there for a while when the leaves fell
Then we went under the trees not seeking shelter
But to catch those leaves falling and falling and falling
We are trying to feel again what falling was
We are here on this summer, we see the leaves
Falling and falling again to the dry wind,
We try to recall about us, but there is simply
Nothing about us anymore, but just the same
The leaves fall and fall and fall, we see them reenacting
There is that meaning; there it is in the falling
But we have outgrown it, we look for more, we hope
We can find some more, something beyond us.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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I Can't Realize
I realize buds, flowers and their blooming
in the gardens of earth;
Only I can't realize their falling down from trees.
I realize clouds, rain and the sweet soft sound of its fall;
Only I can't realize the thunder.
Rivers, fields, oceans, forests, hills, mountains—
I realize them all;
Only I can't realize the deserts.
I realize fish, shark, deer and bright striped tiger;
Only I can't realize a shark beside a fish and a tiger
beside a deer.
I realize life,
many turns of life I realize very clearly;
Only the ice-cold death I can't realize any way.
poem by Sayeed Abubakar
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September Stream
Fallen to the wash
Dead leaves in September
There only to float away
A sign of seasons change
Autumnal picture postcard
In the landscape which we walk
Pathways losing shade and shelter
Bare branches rise above
Flower heads falling away
Leaving bowed stems
Tall grass and broken sticks
Leaves blown to the water
To be washed away
The world in all its movement
The world amid its change
The cycle of everything
Now seen in the dying leaves
Falling and taken away
In a September stream
poem by Matthew Holloway
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Split open
It’s split open like two pieces of land separated by a red river
But the river is overflowing
It’s flowing over the land and falling, falling down
All the way down to the floor
As the river drains the land changes color
The color of death begins to show
The world seems to stop moving
And then it too falls
The world cannot live without the water
Now the world is laying in a pool of red water, gone
Dead.
No last words.
No goodbyes
Just gone
Suddenly the planets seem to come around the world
And wonder why?
Why did she let the river flow?
No one knows
All they know is that the raging river has finally ended.
Leaving only the question
Why did she do it?
Why did she split herself open and let herself run dry?
poem by Yvonne Fernandez
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Some people are afraid to show their true colors
i am not
i don't hide
i have nothing to hide
i am what i am
i am brown, i am a Filipino,
and I am not afraid, I am what i am, i show who and what i am, and i take responsibitity
for what i am
for what i write for what i do for what i say
mountains do not hide, how can they? the seas keep their bodies in the open
their waves blown by the air, for how can they be what they are when they are in hiding?
the trees and the plains, the valleys and the hills, what can they be if they are in hiding? shall you see a vast desert of them then?
the air, if only they have that nature to be seen, they could have assumed such forms that you see, they too are happy to be seen so that you may believe in them,
for in truth, those true and giving do no hide, and if you cannot see them,
they always try,
in some conceivable manifestations,
in some shapes, colors and forms
like some leaves falling when the wind passes by,
like some trees bending, like some pieces of paper blown to the other end.
why are you in hiding?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Why don't you come? [De ce nu-mi vii?]
Behold! The birds will fly away
And walnut leaves will soon decay,
The rime has made the vineyards numb
Why don't you come, why don't you come?
Oh, come again with all your charms
I want to feel you in my arms,
To lay my head upon your breast
And there to rest, and there to rest!
Remember how we used to stray
Over the hills and far away,
How we were walking in the rain
Time and again, time and again?
I know there are a lot of dames
Whose eyes are burning like two flames,
But doesn't matter what they do
They're not like you, they're not like you!
Therefore you are my only goal
For you can stir my drowsy soul
And you are brighter than the sun,
My precious one, my precious one!
The autumn everything will seize
The leaves are falling from the trees
And all the fields bare have become,
Why don't you come, why don't you come?
poem by Mihai Eminescu, translated by Octavian Cocoş
Submitted by anonym
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Leudeman's-on-the-River
Toward even when the day leans down,
To kiss the upturned face of night,
Out just beyond the loud-voiced town
I know a spot of calm delight.
Like crimson arrows from a quiver
The red rays pierce the water flowing,
While we go dreaming, singing, rowing,
To Leudeman's-on-the-River.
The hills, like some glad mocking-bird,
Send back our laughter and our singing,
While faint--and yet more faint is heard
The steeple bells all sweetly ringing.
Some message did the winds deliver
To each glad heart that August night,
All heard, but all heard not aright;
By Leudeman's-on-the-River.
Night falls as in some foreign clime,
Between the hills that slope and rise.
So dusk the shades at landing time,
We could not see each other's eyes.
We only saw the moonbeams quiver
Far down upon the stream! that night
The new moon gave but little light
By Leudeman's-on-the-River.
How dusky were those paths that led
Up from the river to the hall.
The tall trees branching overhead
Invite the early shades that fall.
In all the glad blithe world, oh, never
Were hearts more free from care than when
We wandered through those walks, we ten,
By Leudeman's-on-the-River.
So soon, so soon, the changes came.
This August day we two alone,
On that same river, not the same,
Dream of a night forever flown.
Strange distances have come to sever
The hearts that gayly beat in pleasure,
Long miles we cannot cross or measure--
From Leudeman's-on-the-River.
We'll pluck two leaves, dear friend, to-day.
The green, the russet! seems it strange
So soon, so soon, the leaves can change!
Ah, me! so runs all night away
This night wind chills me, and I shiver;
The summer time is almost past.
One more good-bye--perhaps the last
To Leudeman's-on-the-River.
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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The Falling Leaves
it is not the leaves you care about
but the falling
it is not that the trees have become leafless ribs
or that the thorns and scabs have become so visible
it is not
but the falling you want to know
how does falling fall how does this falling feel
the past that pains you
the present that you do not give space
the future that you refuse to dream
i see you falling falling and falling like the leaves
that you are seeing this summer afternoon
for whom you love
they leave like birds flying away from the lonely tunnel
where you have long resided
i see you hugging the fallen leaves
feeling what falling means
treasuring the failures unnecessarily
tonight i see no stars like you seeing none in the skies
black night silent night dead night
i got this last stick of this match
i light this cigarrette i sigh i live some more
i sleep i dream i have this candle still
that tomorrow i may begin to light
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Hills That Surround A City
There are hills that surround a city,
I do not know if everyone loves these hills as I do,
From a child to an adult, I traveled the roads of these hills,
Through all seasons these hills are inviting, to a city dweller,
There are hills that surround a city,
In summer these hills can be dangerous,
Bush fires, the enemy of all,
But a friend at times,
Trees and plants re-shoot after bush fires,
Foe to animals and residents,
Cool nights, bring summer breezes to these hills,
Autumn colours surround the hills,
And bring the city dweller to visit,
Colours line the ever winding roadways,
Magical colours along the roadways,
Breathtaking trees, so tall,
Falling leaves line the winding roadways,
Around the hills that surround a city,
Log fires creating smoke from chimneys, dot the landscapes,
During winter,
Winter rains flushes the creeks and rivers,
Throughout the hills that surround a city,
Frosts, fog create an old world atmosphere,
Don't forget your scarf, beanie's, or gloves,
It is cold in these hills,
Spring, the hills are coming alive,
Magical gardens, on display,
Watch for the colourful birds, that come alive,
There is still a chill in the air,
Grab a bit of sunshine, feel the warmth,
There is another world in these hills,
A historical world, for those who wish to visit,
The Adelaide hills surround the city,
Many abandon the city, for the day,
Or a weekend retreat,
The many winding roads amongst the Adelaide hills,
Will take you many places,
I have traveled these roads all my life,
Now I am finding many new roads to travel,
Around these hills that surround a city.
poem by Batibchar Mocculta
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To A Nephew
it is upon my calling that you are here today.
i am very happy.
i am seeing a very tall man now
towering like a tree.
look at this place this island
the flowers no longer bloom
and the trees are shedding off their leaves
the corn seeds that i have sown a month ago
have not grown
and the river on the other side has dried up
the sun scorches this place
and the moon does not like to rest on the hills
let me take you to the window of this house
for you to see the rainbow connecting this island
to another island
this is the bridge between us
and i am giving you the power to cross the sea
of this rift
tonight in this harrowing darkness
we shall cross to the other side and leave this island for good
you shall own the island and sow the corn seeds again
the trees shall bow before you and the flowers shall bloom again
the rivers shall have their water and the hills are ready for the moon
and then i will be gone.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Good Old Powlett River
The good old Powlett river so very old in time
Has been sketched by famous artists and has inspired the bards to rhyme
From the hills above Kilcunda it flows downland to the sea
Centuries before the first Australians came down to the South Country,
The good old Powlett river will flow down forever more
From the hills above Kilcunda to the great Pacific shore
By the sandhills near saltwater where the surf waves one can hear
The good old Powlett river to my heart is ever dear,
Out of the sunshine by powlett river in the shadows of the trees
Centuries ago the first Australians danced their corroborees
The people like Nature's Seasons to life they come and go
But the good old Powlett river forever it will flow
From the hills above Kilcunda babbling on down to the sea
It will babble on forever century on century.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Falling In Love
Two of hearts, lace and satin, something in the air
Feel like another crok that's been captured by your stare
Uh-oh, uh-oh
Falling in love, falling in love again
Uh-oh, uh-oh, and i don't wanna no, no, no
Uh-oh, uh-oh, falling in love, falling in love again
Uh-oh, uh-oh, falling, falling
Jealous feelings, reappearing, such a wicked dare
I'm just so damned confused and i wonder, do you care?
Uh-oh, uh-oh
Falling in love, falling in love again
Uh-oh, uh-oh, and i don't wanna no, no, no
Uh-oh, uh-oh, falling in love, falling in love again
Uh-oh, uh-oh, falling, falling
Like walking in the park
Or dancing in the dark
Just wanna hold you through out the night
Prince of fire, sweet desire, with devil may you care
Release me from your spell
I don't want this, love ain't fair
I'm falling in love again
Uh-oh, uh-oh
Falling in love
Uh-oh, uh-oh, falling, falling
Uh-oh, uh-oh, falling in love, falling in love again
Uh-oh, uh-oh, falling in love, falling in love again
Uh-oh, uh-oh, falling in love, falling in love again uh-oh, uh-oh, and i don't wanna no, no, no
Uh-oh, uh-oh, falling in love, falling in love again
Uh-oh, uh-oh, falling, falling
song performed by by Gloria Estefan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Early Works - Trees
In fields of coloured leaves
there stand tall and noble trees
like statues in Trafalgar Square.
They stand straight and tall
with branches pointing
skyward in the air
these trees with noble flair.
Date unknown, probably 1960’s
poem by David Harris
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Jungle retreat A humble tribute to William Wordsworth! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !
Earth has nothing more fair to show
Than the trees growing row upon row;
Tall, green and majestic; silence speaks.
My weary eyes just rest on those peaks.
The beauty of the gurgling river,
Water so cold, sends a shiver.
Sparkles like a diamond in morn.
And the day slips into a shimmering gown.
The ducks leisurely swim in wetlands.
Some flutter their wings on white sand.
Others playfully tease their mates in tall grass.
I smile as I watch a few furiously paddle fast.
Hiking through the forests of Sal, now steep,
Now low; I feel the quiet oh, so deep, so deep.
Dear God, I feel so blessed for this trip.
For now I know, oft from city need to slip.
In house naturalist offers me at hour of twilight;
Show you flora and fauna at dawn with delight.
But I decline the offer saying maybe next time.
For now suffice just to hear cow bells chime.
Varied hues of Gerberas, though sans fragrance,
Make up for lack of it by their sheer elegance.
How theystand tall and proud on thin green stalks.
And beckon from far with a broad smile as I walk.
Colours of nature- flowers, birds and hills,
Make my forever whirring mind kind of still.
Lying in a hammock, unread book on my eyes
In such august company ah, how time just flies.
INSPIRED BY 'UPON WESTMINSTER BRIDGE' BY WORDSWORTH.
Mamta Agarwal
24.12.09
poem by Mamta Agarwal
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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