It Will Just Take One Flea And A Cat
it will just take one flea
to infest
this dalmatian
and a grey cat
to capture
the goldfish
in an aquarium
to create all the mess
in my house
on the frontline
where we are missing
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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She Likes It Here
she likes it here
inside this small aquarium
she is the most
beautiful goldfish
alone with
her own
bubbles
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Living On A Frontline
Bad days are coming
Back into my head
Theyre looking for trouble, is that alright
You know youve seen them before
And now theyre turning
Into the deepest nights
Shadows on the wall - dont surrender at all
Youre not alone this time
Do or die - youll always be on the run
Like a soldier in time - rain or shine
Aces high - youd better be on the ball
Dont move outta the way - stand for what youve gotta say
Were living on a frontline
Always trying not to go
Were living on a frontline
Its much more than enough this time
Were living on a frontline
Now you start searching
For a better life
Better not look back - go straight ahead
Just be yourself all the time
Do or die - youll always be on the run
Like a soldier in time - rain or shine
Aces high - youd better be on the ball
Dont move outta the way - stand for what youve gotta say
Were living on a frontline
Always trying not to go
Were living on a frontline
Its much more than enough this time
Were living - living on a frontline
Always trying not to go
Were living on a frontline
Its much - its much too much this time
Go ahead this time
Ah, were living on a frontline
Ah, its a bad game
Ive told you before
So stay away from the frontline
And your friends next door
You say youre lonely
But I dont want them no more
But one day - youre gonna see
Theyre gonna disappear
Were living on a frontline
Always trying not to go
Were living on a frontline
Its much more than enough this time
Were living - living on the frontline
Always trying not to go
Were living on a frontline
Its much - its much too much this time
On a frontline
song performed by by U. D. O.
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Goldfish
Goldfish swim in aquarium.
Shiny scales, vegetarian.
Graceful twist of flowing tails.
Gossamer translucent ghostly veils.
The Flea
A flea that bit you had bitten me too.
The two bloods mingled for single blood.
The flea’s body is our marriage lobby.
Neither shame nor sin would accrue since than.
Nor would you have grown any weaker too.
By yielding to me and getting my blood
You would shed no grace nor honour either.
You will make me than the flea happier.
Your yielding to me will not do more harm
Than what the flea has done to you, dear.
[the verse of John Donne, The Flea, rewritten]
20.12.2007
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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The White Man With His Dalmatian
a white man goes fishing
to the sea
on his white wooden boat
bringing with him his
dalmatian
wherever the man looks
the tongue of the dalmatian also follows
at the other side
the island looks at them
the mountains as usual
so big
for this kind of friendship
envious
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Capture It
The crashing seas
A box of bees
Capture the Crashes
Capture the Buzz
A skateboarder's stunts
Simply having fun
Capture the Stunts
Capture the Fun
First day at school
First swim in the pool
Capture the Uniform
Capture the Ripples
There's an Image for Everything
Every Occasion
Capture the Image
Capture The Moment.
poem by Rachel Marlow
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Youre Missing
Shirts in the closet, shoes in the hall
Mamas in the kitchen, baby and all
Everything is everything
Everything is everything
But youre missing
Coffee cups on the counter, jackets on the chair
Papers on the doorstep, but youre not there
Everything is everything
Everything is everything
But youre missing
Pictures on the nightstand, tvs on in the den
Your house is waiting, your house is waiting
For you to walk in, for you to walk in
But youre missing, when I shut out the lights
Youre missing, when I close my eyes
Youre missing, when I see the sun rise
Youre missing
Children are asking if its alright
Will you be in our arms tonight?
Morning is morning, the evening falls I got
Too much room in my bed, to many phone calls
Hows everything, everything?
Everything, everything
Youre missing, youre missing
Gods drifting in heaven, devils in the mailbox
I got dust on my shoes, nothing but teardrops
song performed by by Bruce Springsteen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Oh We Are Very Happy This Christmas (a Poem For The Childless Couple)
oh you ask?
we are very happy this Christmas
the house is crowded
with lots of food and desserts and drinks
all laid on the table
on an ambiance of mistletoe
and candle lights
we are many here
in this big house: Liza, my wife
myself, our five dogs
and three newly acquired
dalmatian puppies.
you see, this all family.
merry Christmas!
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Show
i have seen this
dalmatian, dancing, and
taking rightly all the cues of
his master.
he adds three plus three
equals six. Six barks.
and his tails waggle
for the correct answer.
the people get excited
watching the dalmatian,
trying to speak the language
of numbers and a human
display of his emotions.
at the park a woman kisses
a man. Lips to lips. The man's
hands holding her butt.
The hard bone protrudes.
The palms are wet.
the dalmatian stops his acts.
and people too stop watching him.
they are watching the real show.
Kiss.Lips to lips. Hands and hearts
Bold at the park. The grasses
are clapping their hands. And the
clouds laugh and do not leave.The sun
pockets a smile. Thumbs up
The trees signal.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Privacy
Oh you who are shy of the popular eye,
(Though most of us seek to survive it)
Just think of the goldfish who wanted to die
Because she could never be private.
There are pebbles and reeds for aquarium needs
Of eel and of pike who are bold fish;
But who gives a thought to a sheltering spot
For the sensitive soul of a goldfish?
So the poor little thing swam around in a ring,
In a globe of a crystalline crudity;
Swam round and swam round, but no refuge she found
From the public display of her nudity;
No weedy retreat for a cloister discreet,
From the eye of the mob to exempt her;
Can you wonder she paled, and her appetite failed,
Till even a fly couldn't tempt her?
I watched with dismay as she faded away;
Each day she grew slimmer and slimmer.
From an amber hat burned, to a silver she turned
Then swiftly was dimmer and dimmer.
No longer she gleamed, like a spectre she seemed,
One morning I anxiously sought her:
I only could stare - she no longer was there . . .
She'd simply dissolved in the water.
So when you behold bright fishes of gold,
In globes of immaculate purity;
Just think how they'd be more contented and free
If you gave them a little obscurity.
And you who make laws, get busy because
You can brighten he lives of untold fish,
If its sadness you note, and a measure promote
To Ensure Private Life For The Goldfish.
poem by Robert William Service
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Glamorous, Sophisticated
What a mess - what a terrible mess - trial and
error is awful, I should have guessed; grey - I
HATE grey, unless tinted blue, black and grey
in bed linen are insupportable - to combat the
effect I constructed a bulwarks of pink-purple
covered notebooks on my side of the bed
I shall hide the black and grey pillowcase tonight,
already covered my favourite pillow with something
else, grey sucks colour out of everything - I wear
black to disappear but my bed should be HERE;
this is awful, one of my biggest mistakes - still,
we were constrained, nothing else in the shop
I hate shopping in any case, my new T-shirt too large,
the glamorous, sophisticated black and grey without
symbolical meaning, I fight it with the pink and green
of my paper doll - how did I ever acquiesce to some-
thing as bleak and menacing as this - oh yes, there
was nothing else, I should hang myself!
poem by Margaret Alice Second
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Scenes of Suppression
Why are you riding,
My back like a flea?
The only thing missing,
Is a harnessed saddle secured on me.
You must have heard rumors,
I was easy to 'break in? '
'Rough it out! ' You were told...
'Hound him and his fantasies will end! '
Scenes of suppression,
Impressed to solicit oppression...
Needs to be shaken loose from your mind
Since where we are going,
Is 'nowhere' you will find!
And closer than that,
You are not going to get!
If I don't 'deck' you first...
With a sudden outburst,
For breathing your nonsense down my neck!
Giving you a star filled sight...
One you never expected to see,
In broad daylight!
Why are you riding,
My back like a flea?
The only thing missing,
Is a harnessed saddle secured on me.
Days of cattle calls...
To stamp your initials with branding iron,
Has cease to exists but you still persist...
And no honor comes to you for trying,
Or weakened with tricks by lieing!
That mindset you sell is dieing.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Very few of us have any idea whatsoever of what life is like living in a goldfish bowl, except, of course, for those of us who are goldfish.
quote by Graham Taylor
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Flea
Mark but this flea, and mark in this,
How little that which thou deniest me is;
It suck'd me first, and now sucks thee,
And in this flea our two bloods mingled be.
Thou know'st that this cannot be said
A sin, nor shame, nor loss of maidenhead;
Yet this enjoys before it woo,
And pamper'd swells with one blood made of two;
And this, alas! is more than we would do.
O stay, three lives in one flea spare,
Where we almost, yea, more than married are.
This flea is you and I, and this
Our marriage bed, and marriage temple is.
Though parents grudge, and you, we're met,
And cloister'd in these living walls of jet.
Though use make you apt to kill me,
Let not to that self-murder added be,
And sacrilege, three sins in killing three.
Cruel and sudden, hast thou since
Purpled thy nail in blood of innocence?
Wherein could this flea guilty be,
Except in that drop which it suck'd from thee?
Yet thou triumph'st, and say'st that thou
Find'st not thyself nor me the weaker now.
'Tis true; then learn how false fears be;
Just so much honour, when thou yield'st to me,
Will waste, as this flea's death took life from thee.
poem by John Donne
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Aquarium Fun
Have you ever seen an aquarium
With fancy fish swimming around?
Well I saw the most wonderful
Aquarium that I’ve ever found
Every color you can imagine
You’d find in a fish tank were there
Beautiful background for those fish
Not a single thing was spared
The cat fish were so enormous
You could imagine them in a pan
Fryin’ up so crispy brown
So tasty they’d never be bland
But instead we just enjoyed
Watching these fish on display
Swimming ‘round and ‘round
I once even saw them in play
I hope sometime if you haven’t
Been to an aquarium like this
Can observe their beauty as I did
These delightful and colorful fish!
poem by Marilyn Lott
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This Goldfish In A Small Bowl For An Aquarium...
at 34 degrees
summer comes here
the roads are fuming
like hot rods
of a machine
it is making flints
with the metal of the shoes
the city people
abandon their small rooms
for a beach in the village
white sands, and cool shades of the
palms
i stay here
writing a poem
like a goldfish
lurking
in an aquarium
it is cool here
in my little world
of silence.
i shut out with
a glass wall
buffered by
a bowl of water
when i speak
it is only me who hears
it.
i bubble
with happiness.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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To Remove A Boredom
anxieties live in the hair
like the number of locks
the white particles in scalp
someone suggests that to remove them
one must try loving a goldfish
that you put in an aquarium
one that you can love and yet cannot love back
one that you speak with
and yet cannot answer back
it is a love in silence where
silence becomes a necessity
or to see an aggression
one need put too little food to so many fish
and see how they all display
actuation in the middle of their hunger
sometimes one feels it too
walking under the rain some people are looking
yet we cannot look back
somethings like what they tell us
and caress us
with all our hands tightly tied
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Lost Dog; Reward!
Missing Dog belongs to dalmatian pedigree
Red ribbon round the neck with a bell
And the new leather belt of goat skin,
Old Owner cries the whole day without a meal.
Please contact; Nagging Soul
3456, West Sumac Lane, Apt 008
Anaheim, CA 92804
I told my wife 'It's near to our place.'
And when I try to fix my photograph on that notice
She scolded me in our mother tongue.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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The Monument Of All Our Wrongs
i build a house
no one likes it.
the house is empty
i put some chairs.
someone comes and
says, this house is
lonely, it needs
a sound
it is boring and needs
a paint
i put a tree beside
its stairs
i grow another
fence
i put a lone bulb
on a post
and leave the house
for good
that is what the
house is made
there is always
missing
something is
always wrong
this is the house
of regret
it is the monument
of all our wrongs.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Grey World
Grey nights in the wind,
And the grey-faced dead.
Grey hairs in my head,
And grey eyes in my mind.
Grey mists in the morn,
And grey waves that rave,
Grey mould on my grave,
And grey eyes forlorn.
Grey clouds in the sky,
And the grey world asleep,
Grey ghosts that sigh,
And grey eyes that weep.
poem by Leon Gellert
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