Insignificant
from among the sands on the shore i am but a single grain
of sand
insignificant
indistinguishable
in fact just like the rest i may just be
nothing
but if you really love me babes, as i have loved you
i will stand out from the rest of those billion grains
i am not a single grain anymore
i shall become
your sun your universe
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Related quotes
From Among The Sands On The Shore I Am But A Singe Grain
from among the sands on the shore i am but a single grain
of sand
insignificant
indistinguishable
in fact just like the rest i may just be
nothing
but if you really love me babes, as i have loved you
i will stand out from the rest of those billion grains
i am not a single grain anymore
i shall become
your sun your universe
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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To Die
If I die tomorrow
Know that I lived
And that's all I could have ever asked for
If I die tomorrow
Know that I loved
And to be capable of love
Is all I ever really wanted
If I die tomorrow
Know that I tried
For all who live in silent desperate acceptance
Live a life of self-destruction
If I die tomorrow
Know that all was well
For all who live a single day
Know that tragedy can accompany you
The rest of days
If I die tomorrow
Know that I was inspired
For he who has never been inspired
Never looked at himself
As he should have
And if I die tomorrow
Know that my only will in life
Was to cause a single grain of sand to tumble
Within the infinite pile of identical grains
And cause a single reaction
In the desolate hour glass
Of our existence
poem by C.S. Smith
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Loves Single Grain Of Sand
A single grain of sand doth
Equal part weight of my love for my love,
All the sands weight on earth equals
My love for you, but
Cannot equal the bond
That is held together with
Heaven’s stars magnetised
By a single grain of love.
poem by Ken e Hall
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That Part Of A Whole
it is a tiny part
as tiny as a grain of sand
you hardly give it
attention
you keep on saying
what is in this grain of sand
that philosophers
say contain this universe
something so tiny
yet to contain everything
and so you hold the grain of sand
against the light
and revolve it around your fingers
little finger planets
to the sun grain of sand
you cannot believe what you
felt and saw
and so you throw away that grain
of sand to the air
eating it like a big mouthed monsters
you are lost
your world dissolves
like ice
you turn to air
and there you are
gone.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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From Among The Sands
from among the sands of the shore
and you must accept there are trillions and trillions of them there
you have the guts to tell all of them
that you are not like them
that you are this diamond
admired by emerald and sapphire
and that gold is inferior
the mighty sun shines everyday above the trillions of your kind &
it is not bothered at all
it does not know you &
finds nothing significant about your claim for self-claim for glamor & glitter
need i tell you Mr. grain of sand
that a grain of sand is and will always be a good-for-nothing grain of sand?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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This Universe
this universe, my friend,
is nothing but myself,
you tell me once,
the universe is seen as a grain
of sand,
now, i am truly a grain of sand,
not for the smallness of it
or the numbness of the
sandness of the sand,
nope, my friend, this universe
is nothing but myself,
when i go, it goes with me
when i close my eyes
everything disappears
you must tell me that it shall remain
as your universe
i shall understand
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Trenches of Melancholy
Your loss,
Has left me,
In infinite sadness;
As my grains of sand are displaced, grain by grain;
By your horizon-bound tide;
As the sand castles,
That were built deep within,
The walls of my temple,
Are now fragile to the torrents of your brine;
As I gather on abyssal depths;
Scattered on the ocean floor;
Far from your graceful self waltzing below the heavens;
A fateful journey of divergent destinies;
As sand castles part pristine white sands;
To embrace trenches of melancholy.
Oh the fragility of love!
poem by Dilantha Gunawardana
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The State Of Non-meaning
so many sands
long term plans
so many grains of sands
on the beach on the mind of man
oh, i guess
so many poems composed
each poem has become a grain of sands
so many grains
from my mouth
to my hands to my feet to the beach to the sands of time
in search for meaning
when actually there is none.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Grain Of Sand
I feel like Im walking on a mine
Im gonna leave it all behind
I feel like Im gaining my soul
While Im losing my mind
And I feel like I understand
And I feel like a grain of sand
Im gonna walk through that door
Im gonna see what its there for
cause all I ever want is your skin or your soul baby
But you couldnt give me either one of those
And I feel like I understand
And I feel like a grain of sand
And I feel like a grain of sand
You use to hold me like a flower
We used to talk for seven hours
I see the bigger picture now
And I feel like I understand
And I feel like a grain of sand
And I feel like a grain of sand
song performed by by Vonda Shepard
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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0332 How were they to know?
Yes, how were they to know,
searching in the heat of forenoon dunes,
those high hills of sand
where once the forests grew,
now a rhythm of burnt sunned, cool shadowed, mock horizons,
- they, searching for the camel which had strayed -
and finding there, a man sitting still, cross-legged
in the sand upon a small strip
of faded coloured carpet,
palm of hand crossed in palm of hand,
and in the palm of his upraised right hand,
one grain of sand
and who, as they approached,
did not shift his gaze from that one grain;
and yet they sensed that he sensed them;
better let him be, he knows what he’s about,
or if he’s mad, at least he’s quietly purposeful…
how were they to know
that as he gazed, the universe he saw
in that one grain of sand then
grew inside of him? till it filled itself,
like a sand-clock, as the last grain
falls from the upper to
the lower, and all is still again
as measured time stops still
amid the sands of time?
how were they to know
as that small figure against the desert sand
his cloak still burning to the touch,
returned to the oasis, as the red-hot sun
sank below the dramatic shadow of the furthest dune,
and later, sitting by the green palms and papyrus reeds,
the camels head down, humped around the welcome pool,
one child, then many children,
then grown men, asked him their questions;
and the answers, as the night folded in
below more stars than anyone could count,
drew the circle of cross-legged silent listeners
- occasionally, urgent voiced with a lifetime’s pressing question -
as if some grain of sand became in their mind too
totality; the universe.
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Grain Of Sand
From every grain of sand
That falls from my hand
Through my fingers to the ground
To utter but not a sound,
For like a Human life
That pasted before my eyes
To be here and then be gone
Forgotten like yesterdays dawn.
For like a grain of sand
The Boy became a Man
Who cries tears of His fate,
For He knows for what Man did,
Is from what Man had made.
Though as being caught up in the air
And being blown to who knows where
For where we go, no man knows
And where we die, is where we lie.
We are all here a lifetime
As though it seems a long time
It is though, but a short time,
To live and love, then die.
Like a grain of sand
That falls upon the beach
To be caught up in the rain or air
And to go where no one can reach,
A Girl becomes a Woman
The Boy becomes a Man
And everyone makes their own fall,
Like a simple, grain of sand.
Randy L. McClave
poem by Randy McClave
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Dream-Land
Where sunless rivers weep
Their waves into the deep
She sleeps a charmed sleep:
Awake her not.
Led by a single star,
She came from very far
To seek where shadows are
Her pleasant lot.
She left the rosy morn,
She left the fields of corn,
For twilight cold and lorn
And water springs.
Through sleep, as through a veil,
She sees the sky look pale,
And hears the nightingale
That sadly sings.
Rest, rest, a perfect rest
Shed over brow and breast;
Her face is toward the west,
The purple land.
She cannot see the grain
Ripening on hill and plain;
She cannot feel the rain
Upon her hand.
Rest, rest, for evermore
Upon a mossy shore;
Rest, rest at the heart's core
Till time shall cease:
Sleep that no pain shall wake;
Night that no morn shall break
Till joy shall overtake
Her perfect peace.
poem by Dante Gabriel Rossetti
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Dream Land
Where sunless rivers weep
Their waves into the deep,
She sleeps a charmed sleep:
Awake her not.
Led by a single star,
She came from very far
To seek where shadows are
Her pleasant lot.
She left the rosy morn,
She left the fields of corn,
For twilight cold and lorn
And water springs.
Through sleep, as through a veil,
She sees the sky look pale,
And hears the nightingale
That sadly sings.
Rest, rest, a perfect rest
Shed over brow and breast;
Her face is toward the west,
The purple land.
She cannot see the grain
Ripening on hill and plain;
She cannot feel the rain
Upon her hand.
Rest, rest, for evermore
Upon a mossy shore;
Rest, rest at the heart's core
Till time shall cease:
Sleep that no pain shall wake;
Night that no morn shall break
Till joy shall overtake
Her perfect peace.
poem by Christina Georgina Rossetti (1893)
Submitted by anonym
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After The Slow Slipping Of Self
grab your emptiness
like a handful of sand
in your hand
and let it spill there
grain after grain
after grain
until all is gone
away
slipping from
your fingers
then feel that
your hands
are still yours
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Potter
Your whole body has
a fullness or a gentleness destined for me.
When I move my hand up
I find in each place a dove
that was seeking me, as
if they had, love, made you of clay
for my own potter's hands.
Your knees, your breasts,
your waist
are missing parts of me like the hollow
of a thirsty earth
from which they broke off
a form,
and together
we are complete like a single river,
like a single grain of sand.
poem by Pablo Neruda
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Seashore
Five string serenade
she smiled
she played
as her fingers bled
Cool blue in shadow
a memory flees
caught sipping
China tea from Spain
If I call
on a phone
hung on a wall
can I call
in all my
tomorrows
...collect
Follow anybody
every grain of sand
has destiny..
and a duty...
every single,
separate,
meaningless,
grain...
of futility.
poem by Midnights Voice
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Our Paranoia
the uncured disease of mankind had always been
that the earth is the center of the universe
that man is at the center of all these
that he is loved by the skies and the seas and the mountains
that i am the center of your attraction
or that i have loved you truly too
these are the demands of illusions
the sun is just one of the thousand stars
though it may be true that it is the center of our universe
that you may have loved me truly and i may think that i am the only
star in your universe
how hopeless can i be thinking that way
when the truth is just i am just a dust, a speck of this vast space of dusts
one night i stand in the middle of the grass and looked at the stars
i feel so far and so tiny just like Venus that planet that glitters in the north.
human love is as small as a grain of sand, yet somehow we imagine that
as a Saturn in the planetary system.
i am not saying the truth that indeed we are nothing but an empty sigh.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Single Is Fair
Single
I am single
Question of double
Does not arise.
I am single
Only single.
Single sun
Single moon
Single earth
Single air
Single sky
Sngle water
Single fire
Single soul
Single body
All are there
All are fair.
Single is single
Single is beautiful
Single is fair.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
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Hourglass
The sand flows through, marks grain by rain
the minutes which won’t come again.
Moments of pain, moments of pleasure.
They record with equal measure.
They mark them with a steady flow
the sand above drips down below.
Then when the final grain has dropped
It does not mean that time has stopped.
It’s time to turn the hour glass
so that the grains may freely pass.
From up above again below.
Time will not stop if they don’t flow.
But if it did how would you know
without the sand to tell you so.
8-Oct-08
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Production Line
much is much and
so many is like sand sprawling
on the shore... so much so many
and one who lays her body on
the sandy shore
takes sand for granted just another
part of this mass production of
things in her ordinary world: rocks, pebbles, stones,
sands,
what value can there be on a speck of dust
a grain of sand
becomes like her sun, too ordinary for her sunburn-skin
what's got the sun to do with me?
or the sand?
her sunglasses speak for her
in the middle of her empty hours
basking under the sun
production some times, so much for so many
meaninglessness growing like fruits of the poisonous tree
i could have kept one, just one
kept it inside my heart, i could have known what is precious,
diamond, just one,
glittering in the darkest hour of my night.
but there is no one really, all i have are mass produced, and
like sand, i lay my body on the shore, spreading so thinly without
feelings.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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