It Is Enough To Destroy Life
do not delve on meanings
if you really have to enjoy this life
on the desert sands somewhere in Egypt
we do not trace the roots of the sea
the tragedies of the oasis
the life span of the date palm
the ways and means of the Tigris Euphrates
we are here to view the moon
through the glasses in our hands
filled with rose
wine.
click my glass with your glass
cheers! Salud!
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
About a poem
You filled the glasses
Words into glasses glass made drops
Golden pots for a thunder-like
‘Drink’ of big silences
You filled the glasses
On the tables across the earth
Meanings laid walking on debris
You filled the glasses
Like hours into a sandclock
The sand upon which
You write up the names
Glass made drops
You write up the scars of a sip
Drunk you plough and keep ploughing
Over the dreams you spill
©Miroslava Odalovic
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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Broken Glass
Life is like glass in so many ways.
Keep it shiny and unbroken all through the days.
Glass can be new.
Glass can be old.
It doesn't matter whats told.
Every piece of glass can shine like gold.
Sometimes glass is shiny.
Some can be plain.
It's all-unique show your true style.
You have nothing to lose and all to gain.
Enjoy the sparkle of the glass because once its broken you can never piece it back.
poem by Francesca Marie
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Bottom Of The Glass
You think that you have found a way to ease your troubled mind
You fill a glass, then drink it down and fill it one more time
Well, the wine will flow and the pain will go but the spell will never last
Youll never find the answer in the bottom of the glass
Youll never find the answer in the bottom of the glass
Well, the bottom of the glass is just as empty as your life
You know it holds no secret way to help you in your strife
But for a while youre in another world and you wake up in the past
Youll never find the answer in the bottom of the glass
Youll never find the answer in the bottom of the glass
...glass
That bottle there is not your friend when its gone it leaves you cold
The strength it gives you slips away for its something you cant hold
Your hands will shanke and then youll take another from the flask
But youll never find the answer in the bottom of the glass
Youll never find the answer in the bottom of the glass
Youll never find the answer in the bottom of the glass
Youll never find the answer in the bottom of the glass
song performed by by Whiskeytown
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Bottom Of The Glass
You think that you have found a way to ease your troubled mind
You fill a glass, then drink it down and fill it one more time
Well, the wine will flow and the pain will go but the spell will never last
Youll never find the answer in the bottom of the glass
Youll never find the answer in the bottom of the glass
Well, the bottom of the glass is just as empty as your life
You know it holds no secret way to help you in your strife
But for a while youre in another world and you wake up in the past
Youll never find the answer in the bottom of the glass
Youll never find the answer in the bottom of the glass
...glass
That bottle there is not your friend when its gone it leaves you cold
The strength it gives you slips away for its something you cant hold
Your hands will shanke and then youll take another from the flask
But youll never find the answer in the bottom of the glass
Youll never find the answer in the bottom of the glass
Youll never find the answer in the bottom of the glass
Youll never find the answer in the bottom of the glass
song performed by by Whiskeytown
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Glass War
Glass war, glass war, glass war, glass war, it's a glass war
Glass war, glass war, it's a glass war
Glass war, glass war
It's a glass war
Cause you can see right through the poisen
It's a glass war
Cause we all know the activeties
It's a glass war
Cause it's made of smoke and mirrors
It's a glass war
It's a glass war
It's a glass war
Cause only poor men are dyin in the
Gas war
Cause we know why it was started
It's an ass war
Cause the president's an asshole
It's an ass war
It's a glass war
It's a gas war
Cause the starters are all victims of the
Glass war
The slogan men were starters of the
Last war
Now the southern men are starters of the
Glass war
It's a Glass War
It's a Glass war
And the shards are gunna start another glass war
And the shards are gunna start another glass war
And the shards are gunna start another glass war
And the shards are gunna start another glass war
And the shards are gunna start another glass war
It's a glass war
It's a glass war
song performed by by NOFX
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Glass Of Wine
'What's in a glass of wine?'
There, set the glass where I can look within.
Now listen to me, friend, while I begin
And tell you what I see-
What I behold with my far-reaching eyes,
And what I know to be
Below the laughing bubbles that arise
Within this glass of wine.
There is a little spirit, night and day,
That cries one word, for ever and alway:
That single word is 'More!'
And whoso drinks a glass of wine, drinks him:
You fill the goblet full unto the brim,
And strive to silence him.
Glass after glass you drain to quench his thirst,
Each glass contains a spirit like the first;
And all their voices cry
Until they shriek and clamor, howl and rave,
And shout 'More!' noisily,
Till welcome death prepares the drunkard's grave,
And stills the imps that rave.
That see I in the wine:
And tears so many that I cannot guess;
And all these drops are labelled with 'Distress.'
I know you cannot see.
And at the bottom are the dregs of shame:
Oh! it is plain to me.
And there are woes too terrible to name:
Now drink your glass of wine.
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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Dreamlight
Oh, I am lonely by a desert palm,
And dreaming, dreaming on the sands of thought
Oh, come to me from out the voiceless calm,
And teach me what the Nile has left untaught.
Bring to me a draught of Southern wine,
The perfume of the near-forgotten rose.
Then let me drink beside some ancient shrine,
And drinking, let my tired eyelids close.
Come near to me. The fast night-hours are few,
For every hour is fast when moons are clear.
Scatter from my hair the desert dew,
And lilt sweet Arab love-songs in my ear.
Unloose the twilight hair about thy head,
And listen to the waters deep and slow
For we are dreaming with the dreaming dead,
Dreaming where the flowers of Isis blow.
Look not to where those eagles fiercely fight,
Let peace alone be on the ancient bed.
Unbare thy beauty to the Egypt night,
And stay with me till Egypt’s dawn in red.
Then leave me when the bird of night has flown,
And touch my lips before the night-moon sinks.
I’ll ponder by these pyramids of stone,
And sit within the shadow of the Sphinx.
poem by Leon Gellert
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The clock is clicking
The clock is clicking
It is clicking to show just then
A time span of one second
Has become the past
The clock is clicking
Each click means a step
Towards your progress and growth
Optimistic wisdom says
The clock is clicking
Each click means a nail
Onto your coffin
Philosophical wisdom says
The clock is clicking
Each click means the arrival
Of a child in India
Population expert worries
The clock is clicking
Each click means the committal
Of a crime
Police personnel observes
The clock is clicking
Each click means a travel of 2.5 km
In space of the earth's surface
Astromer estimates
The clock is clicking
Each click means a change
In fortune of an individual
Astrologer announces
The clock is clicking
Each click means the admission
Of a heart patient
Health specialist heaves
The clock is clicking
Each click means the drain
Of my battery
The clock cries within
The clock is clicking
Let the clock be clicking
Let any one have his or her inkling
Let us be lively and kicking
Let nothing stop us becoming a king
The clock is clicking
poem by Bashyam Narayanan
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What Words Can I Say?
i make life
i want to make life for both of us
the one filled with cheers like the sparkling
champagne on a thin, fragile, transparent glass
so we too can have
very careful fingers to hold it
or it breaks
shatters on the stone floors
and you weep picking up the pieces
your tears cannot ever glue them
whole again
i want to make life and love with you
on words
no no no, not on words alone
on actions and concrete hands that touch your face and make it
warm
i put the sun
and let the water run on the rivers
i want to make love with you
let us leave life for a while
let us close our mouths with words and letters and lines
tonight, i will put the moon and the stars
i like the windows closed
it is too cold
and my bed is small for both of us
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Summerday Sands
I once met a girl with the life in her hands
And we lay together on the summerday sands.
I gave her my raincoat and told her, ''lady, be good!
And we made truth together, where no one else would.
I smiled through her fingers and ran the dust through her hands ---
The hour-glass of reason on the summerday sands.
We sat as the sea caught fire.
Waited as the flames grew higher
In her eyes.
We watched the eagle born ---
Wings clipped, tail feathers shorn
But we saw him rise ---
Over summerday sands.
Came the ten oclock curfew.
She said, ''i must start my car.
Im staying with someone I met last night in a bar.
I called from my wave top ---
''at least tell me your name!
She smiled from her wheelspin
And said, ''its all the same.
I thought for a minute, jumped back on dry land ---
Left one set of footprints on the summerday sands.
I once met a girl with the life in her hands
And we lied together on the summerday sands.
song performed by by Jethro Tull
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Moon of Ramadân
The sunset melts upon the Nile,
The stony desert glows,
Beneath heaven's universal smile,
One burning damask rose;
And like a Peri's pearly boat,
No longer than a span,
Look, faint on fiery sky afloat,
The Moon of Ramadân.
Our boat drifts idly with the Stream,
Our boatmen ship the oar;
Vistas of endless temples gleam
On either topaz shore;
And swimming over groves of Palm,
A crescent weak and wan,
There steals into the perfect calm
The Moon of Ramadân.
All nature seems to bask in peace
And hush her lowest sigh;
Above the river's golden fleece
The happy Halcyons fly.
And lost in some old lotos dream,
The pensive Pelican
Sees mirrored in the mazy stream
The Moon of Ramadân.
Black outlined on the golden air
A turbaned Silhouette,
The Mueddin invites to prayer
From many a Minaret.
Our dusky boatmen hear the call,
And prostrate, man on man,
They bow, adoring, one and all,
The Moon of Ramadân.
Where Luxor's rose-flushed columns shine
Above the river's brim,
The priests with incense once, and wine,
Made sacrifice to Him,
The highest god of Thebes, and head
Of all the heavenly clan;
But now the Moslem hails instead
The Moon of Ramadân.
The gods have come, the gods have gone,
Yet wedded to their walls,
Winged with the serpent of the Sun
In mute processionals,
They stride from door to massy door,
Bound nations in their van,
Though Amon's Sun has waned before
The Moon of Ramadân.
Yea, even proud Egypt's proudest king,
Who chastised rebel lands,
And brought his gods for offering
Mountains of severed hands;
Who singly, like a god of War,
Smote hosts that swerved and ran,
Lies low 'neath Allah's scimetar--
The Moon of Ramadân.
And Isis, Queen, whose sacred disk's
Horned splendour crowned her brow,
While fires of flashing Obelisks
Flamed in the Afterglow;
And white-robed priests who served her shrine
Have turned Mahommedan,
And worship Him who wears for sign
The Moon of Ramadân.
The rosy lotos, flower and leaf,
Which wreathed each sacred lake,
With Nature's loveliest bas-relief,
Has followed in their wake;
Yea, with the last true Pharaoh's death,
The lotos leaves, grown wan,
Have changed to lily white beneath
The Moon of Ramadân.
The gods may come, the gods may go,
And royal realms change hands;
But the most ancient Nile will flow,
And flood the desert sands;
And nightly will he glass the stars'
Unearthly caravan,
Nor care if it be Rome's red Mars
Or Moon of Ramadân.
The sunset fades upon the Nile;
The desert's stony gloom,
Receding blankly mile on mile,
Grows silent as a tomb.
All weary wanderers, man and beast,
Hie, fasting, to the Khan,
While shines above their nightly feast
The Moon of Ramadân.
poem by Mathilde Blind
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Pour Me A Glass
Once upon a time I was sitting by,
A bottle of wine and all I knew was i,
I was gonna sip it down in a little while,
I drink it glass for glass but theres no reason why,
The bottle of wine has a taste so fine,
It makes feel good, it makes me blow my mind,
I cannot stop pour me another glass,
I would if I could, but now I need it fast,
I lost my friends, nobody holds my hand,
Like a lonley stranger in a long lost land,
I felt the feelings no one ever has,
Bartender, pour me a glass!
Chorus:
Pour me a glass, pour me a glass of a bottle wine...
Im drinking, Im not drinking, I cant tell you why,
How it started, how it ends but I do deny,
That I wanna ruin my life but now I wanna dive,
Into the silent ocean where there is no cry,
For hope, for me that I cannot see,
But if I faced the facts and go inside of me,
I would see myself, my own reality,
I would see myself, my own insanity,
Scared to move another step ahead,
I would lose the strength so I will fast forget,
What I do to myself, why dont you take a guess,
Bartender, pour me a glass!
Chorus...
song performed by by H-BlockX
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Last Flight
there is always a reason why a man cannot
cease writing
there is that denial of what was there a long time ago
it sits there like a statue
beside the door of the house
where the window is always closed
there is always a reason why the words keep flowing
like a river
why the river is always filled with running water
despite the drought
you see the bones of cows
the dust of the sands in the desert
it was once an oasis
where date palms abound where women bathe
with their men
where they make love
under the crescent moon
there is always a reason that you know
but you do not tell
but which i will always deny
as truth
it is this denial that keeps my hands going
like soldiers ready for a kill in that theater of war
it is this roaring lion that does not bite
that keeps me
in fear that keeps me speaking inside myself
there is no one here
there is no wall anymore
the winds are waiting with all the wings of the dead birds
it is ready
i am undressing
this is the flight.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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When Confronted By A Lousy Poem
after reading another
lousy poem
(i guess it could be like
mine, in the strict sense
of your standard
master academic
poet, multi awarded
poetess)
i decided to pause
for a while,
reflect, meditate,
cogitate,
blink, wink,
t h i n k t h i n k
give the writer the benefit of the doubt
due to his feelings
he must have these
within him/her
asking myself what prompts
him to write
i think it is not for fame,
for he will never have, he knows it
the world is filled already with a million famous men
and women
and there is no place anymore for one
like him
(or me, i know, don't bluff me
i know, don't ask me)
i think it is because he is like a snake
(Nothing bad about snakes
nothing metaphorically treacherous)
bitten by another snake, bleeding
and sliding his way in the sands of the
desert
looking for an oasis
a date palm
a branch of an olive tree
(is there an olive tree in the desert?
i have not gone there anyway
yet)
looking for a cure.
i then make a conclusion,
he deserves to be commended
for this bravery
of writing about
pain
at least writing about it
since he still does not know
of any cure
for pain, or if there is
i know, he knows, it is only
temporary
like the pain in our
hearts
(or asses if you will)
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Mexican Wine
He was killed by a celular phone explosion
They scattered his ashes across the ocean
The water was used to make baby loation
The wheels of promotion, were set into motion
But the sun still shines in the summer time
I'll be yours if you'll be mine
I tried to change, but I changed my mind
I think I'll have another glass of Mexican Wine
She lived alone in a small apartment
Across the street from the health department
She left her pills in the glove compartment
That was the afternoon her heart went
And the sun still shines in the summer time
I'll be yours if you'll be mine
I tried to change, but I changed my mind
I think I'll have another glass of Mexican Wine
I think I'll have another glass of Mexican Wine
I used to fly for United Airlines
Then i got fired for reading High Times
My license expired in almost no time
Now I'm retired and I think that's fine
Because the sun still shines in the summer time
I'll be yours if you'll be mine
I tried to change, but I changed my mind
I think I'll have another glass of Mexican Wine
Because the sun still shines in the summer time
I'll be yours if you'll be mine
I tried to change, but I changed my mind
I think I'll have another glass of Mexican Wine
I think I'll have another glass of Mexican Wine
Wont you have another glass of Mexican Wine?
song performed by by Fountains Of Wayne
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Steel & Glass
(this is a story about your friend and mine
Who is it, who is it, who is it? )
There you stand with your l.a. tan
And your new york walk and your new york talk
Youre mother left you when you were small
But youre gonna wish you wasnt born at all
Steel and glass
Steel and glass
Steel and glass
Steel and glass
Your phone dont ring no one answers your call
How does it feel to be off the wall
Well your mouthpiece squawks as he spreads your lies
But you cant pull strings if your hands are tied
Well your teeth are clean but your mind is capped
You leave your smell like an alley cat
Steel and glass
Steel and glass
Steel and glass
Steel and glass
song performed by by Lennon John
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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She Is No Longer Innocent About The Ways Of The World
you think she is as fragile as a thin glass of cherry wine
that when you touch the tip with your finger
she blushes and the glass gets warmer with your thumb
its bottom at the mercy of your palm
you like to think that she is a flower blooming on the month of May
where the dews are as careful as the sap of the red melon
nothing that stains the skin and dirties the white linen
then you discover a lot of things
first, the way she uses the pillow putting it just bellow her buttocks
then the way she calls your name like the hush of the break of day's breeze
from the distant sea
mournful and yet so awakening to your senses
the way she puts her legs and spreads her arms to hold your body
she is like the full moon peeping over the window that you open
you let her in and she sleeps like a fantasy dream on your bed
every sense of you wakes up like there is a fire in the house
adrenalin rushes inside your thighs
you are undressed and in the naked truth you come to her
something unspeakable
unfathomed
giving you the freedom to plunge in the paradise
long denied by them for you
you found the map to her labyrinth of pleasure
and once there
you do not want to leave
this is your home
your niche where your hands thrive like the needles of grass
where you mind glows like the stars
alive and singing
this is pleasure immeasurable
her lips her breasts her arms her abdomen her eyes
her hands gripping your hands
her feet entwined like the vine to the pillar of your house
her soft voice her moans
the cock is crowing and by all means say hello to a very
nice morning
a new day to the first day of your life.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Breaking Boundaries
Cheers of the same glass
Here we live in togetherness
In a classy wine glass or just a table cup
But, still in layers, we never mixed up
As oil and water forever split up
A line of separation
Draw boundary between us
Touch each other surfaces but never hold phases
Never, upside cross the line to reach down
While, impossible is the line, false mind?
Forever isolating us, you and I
As you an oil and me, water
Undelivered lavender fumed words by you
Stayed there without pass the unbreakable line
Never, i know, cant have your adored scent in me
As there is a boundary, a thin door, locked for us
Tried, yes we tried, again and again
Essence of crimson red heart color
Dropped in our shared glass
Tried to be one by persuading our eyes
Hiding the differences of our layers
Again it can't, dissolved in me, unstained you
We stay as two layers of colors and perfume
In a traditional destiny of oil and water
Together we live, but by layers we always be
In a crystal glass or in that old jar
Close enough we are but a line make it far
Here we still, but our life never be one
Because of this boundary, nothing is easy
Expanding our hearts, as yours surfaced on mine
Exchange understanding, transferred between us
Emulsify the boundary, dissolving separator line
Resolving mind, for heart to heart bind
Holding together after found a place to fit
Swirling our souls, breaking all boundaries
As whole applied to share a fumes of lavender
Be in the bliss of red heart, crimson color
The rule of oil and water now is gone
For a mixture of love
Bound heart to heart
Understanding, breaks boundaries
Unison of different classes
Cheer in the same glass
Togetherness, we share life,
Finally, be as one
Just one
A class in a glass
Cheers! !
poem by Unwritten Soul
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Keeping That Faith In Love
when the journey
seems unbearable
you are walking barefoot
on a noonday
desert
no oasis, no palm
no Bedouin in sight to save you
it is just the angry
sun and
you
just the here and
the infinite
over there
you keep faith
in love
you do not ask
why or when
will this suffering end
love has given you
more than enough
overflowing
now it shall take back
what you have
forgotten
what you have taken for
granted
there was once paradise
you were that monkey
sitting over a mountain of gold
your hands have
the power
the spices of life
the opulence of cares
and the
rain of affections
moonlights of
whispers
myriad pleasures and joys
smokes
of hopes to the air
and sky
now it is the desert
the test
keep that faith
at the end of the desert is
the sea
the mountains and rivers
and trees
are just behind you
move
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Bipoler 2
this ghetto got its own moon, its own temtation, and i whole new set of rules, this ghetto got its own pregnant night, and brokerness, and drugs that bite, .and the moon, , and the moon turns into glass. this ghetta got its own blood, and guns, and different time zone, and the moon, and the moon turns to glass...this ghetto got its own bed, and a night light that looks like the moon, , , , , and the moon, and the moon turns into glass, , , , , , , , , , , ...
poem by David Gerardino
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