Know His World
the center table is the sun
and the chairs around are his planets
the walls are the horizons
the floors are the abyss
his words on paper scattered stars
his dogs and cats his zodiac
his silence his void
doubts his ripples
in the sea of galaxy
where his soul
is immersed.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Related quotes
S4
now i am hearing the rushing steps
of the fish vendor
towards the market
passing by the road fronting
my blinds
a busy day,
the red ant below my feet is at it again
finding some crumbs
of cookies
under the computer table
beside the swivel chair
i always have a word
despite,
the ant wonders
why are you doing this?
the nails have no feelings
and so are the feet of the chairs
the monitor is a eunuch
the room fills itself with so much mess
rambling books
scattered papers still unread
piling folders and
dusty nooks
the light brown curtains need
badly a laundrywoman
the walls are calling for a painter
and the floors yell for a scrubbing and mopping
this is the earth of being
needing an updat a cleansing of some sort
a deluge perhaps
and what must remain must only be the essentials
a pen a piece of paper
discard the table and the chair
for man can squat
and still relate to what is bare and empty.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Cats Eye Resurrection
Cats ~ cats ~ cats
Eye
Cats ~ cats ~ cats
Splashing on my walls ~ my walls
In the field the bodies are tied
To the their crosses hair hanging down
The blood is rolling down their
Arms to the waiting dogs
Bad ~ bad ~ bad
Doctors
Bad ~ bad ~ bad
Counting the meat on the tables
In the field the bodies are tied to the
Altar the popes mule sings a song of
Freedom from his majesty-the pope
Nazi ~ nazi ~ nazi
Butchers
Nazi ~ nazi ~ nazi
Waving their tongues in the air
Cats-cats-cats-bad-bad-bad-cats eye
Resurrection
song performed by by Rob Zombie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Synergy
the weak and the strong
hate and love, religion and science,
night and day, sun and moon,
water and fire, heaven and earth
man and God, sky and sea,
the chasm and the abyss,
flowers and grains, grass and pebbles,
bees and butterflies, song and poems,
prose and stories, paper and pen,
cats and dogs and rains, fleas and ants,
water and oil, stone and paper,
scissors and glass and diamonds,
thoughts and actions, friends and foes,
mountains and plains and valleys,
eels and ladles, pins and sands, thread and
needles, stars and fish, sheep and shit,
silence and noise, solitude and emptiness,
i-pods and beans, cells and phones,
cliches and idioms, foams and fowls, and
come to think, well, don't laugh: you and me.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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A View In Town Square
four blue chairs surround
a center table
at the center table
lies the red cloth
there are no diners
this time of the day
on the blue frames of
the glass window
where the white curtains
hang & flow like silky water
the lush of the red
bougainvillea is a wreath
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Peace And Propriety
in the name of propriety
to cats we must be cats too
you know what happens when
we show to the cats that we
are really dogs in feelings and
actions,
there will be a chase of course,
and chaos, and there will be war
and there will be losers and
winners,
and in this matter
and manner of speaking we choose
to be dogs to assure that we win
but that is not always the case
the cats have advanced in their feline
technology and breeding
so my dear, let us just be proper
to cats we shall be cats
and make this world a happy place
for all.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Cats In The Well
The cats in the well, the wolf is looking down.
The cats in the well, the wolf is looking down.
He got his big bushy tail dragging all over the ground.
The cats in the well, the gentle lady is asleep.
Cats in the well, the gentle lady is asleep.
She aint hearing a thing, the silence is a-stickin her deep.
Bridge #1:
The cats in the well and grief is showing its face
The worlds being slaughtered and its such a bloody disgrace.
The cats in the well, the horse is going bumpety bump.
The cats in the well, and the horse is going bumpety bump.
Back alley sally is doing the american jump.
Bridge #2:
The cats in the well, and pappa is reading the news.
His hair is falling out and all of his daughters need shoes.
The cats in the well and the barn is full of bull
The cats in the well and the barn is full of bull
The night is so long and the table is oh, so full
Bridge #3:
The cats in the well and the servant is at the door.
The drinks are ready and the dogs are going to war.
The cats in the well, the leaves are starting to fall
The cats in the well, leaves are starting to fall
Goodnight, my love, may the lord have mercy on us all.
song performed by by Bob Dylan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Letter Without An Address
your hand was unable to lift the paper
unreadable letters in the outdated script
fly the paper, fly my dear
hiding among the fragrance of roses
in the silence of the voice was chanting;
it's always immersed in the anchor
ships that wander away
far... far away
one day the ship was anchored
waiting is always the longing
the letters tucked behind the table
you hide well
quarter folded
no one knows
2012
poem by Imam Setiaji Ronoatmojo
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Shooting Ducks In Space
Dancing arrests belief in wonderful planets,
Worlds of open enemies control the realm.
My oblivion is like the void so blank,
Agony and ducks contrive more of the void.
Dancing ducks are afloat in certain horizons,
From the eggs, from one side of the die roll.
Let us be friends, and let my enemy live,
Then this void shall reach beyond conception,
And I call this Space, where the looting is on.
poem by Naveed Akram
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If Silence Is My Fault
If silence is all my fault
and in paper all my words hided
under my lips as a timed bomb,
an understanding unuttered.
In paper all my words scattered
behind my image the true me lies
inside my calmness a sweetness hides.
If an utterably perfect is your blessing,
with nothing more undisplayed,
your every glance with words combined,
not a silence in any presence of you,
why not the bomb in me ignite?
and these lines of phrases,
to make homour in speach?
why not learn the uniqueness of my world?
The sweet, the bitter sweet, or the soure? ? ? ?
poem by Marbet Daniel
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Mist
i do not wish to dirty the white veil
that covers the face of the one i love
truly as i kiss the white skin, i do not wish
to shed a tear, to spoil the purity of my intentions
my heart bleeds as you say
i do not love you for how can i really love you? how can i?
i understand how the planets move, how this galaxy takes care of its course,
there shall be no change
of direction, whatever, whether the reason be
the magical love, the fantasy of being, the all-out giving with nothing left,
a love so pure equated with zero, when you give everything, when you
crumple like a leaf, when you are consumed by the strong blow
of a sigh
i have loved you all my life and i have given everything i am all for you
what more do you need of my stupidity? you are the whirlpool
sucking all that i have, and i have let it that way
for nothing.
how can you ever love me? i too ask that, and i know the answer, but
unlike the planets and the stars and the galaxy
not swayed by pain or bliss,
i know the answer and i give back what i have taken.
i give back silence, and then i bow and then i die and then i am gone.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Salvation
if reincarnation
be true, how many
men, women, dogs, cats
pigs have to die before
a single soul is saved?
i would say Poor cats,
poor dogs, poor poor animals
and lucky you soul...
there is a crowd to work
for your salvation
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Happiness
The great stone Hall is silent
that is now millennia old.
Through the western windows
shines a glorious sun.
It floods the walls and floors,
the tables, chairs and doors,
panelling, pictures, artefacts
and illumines every one
until the wraiths that gather
cry out in their joy,
'Everything is gold!
Whatever is, is gold! '
A majestic cloud
emerges from the southern sea,
slides across the western sky
blotting out the sun.
Light through those western windows
pales to a thin grey day.
It dims the walls and floors,
the tables, chairs and doors,
panelling, pictures, artefacts
pales every one
until the wraiths in the shadows
cry out in dismay,
'Gone is gold, the gold is gone!
All joy has passed away! '
poem by Brian Taylor
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Poetry
And it was at that age ... Poetry arrived
in search of me. I don't know, I don't know where
it came from, from winter or a river.
I don't know how or when,
no they were not voices, they were not
words, nor silence,
but from a street I was summoned,
from the branches of night,
abruptly from the others,
among violent fires
or returning alone,
there I was without a face
and it touched me.
I did not know what to say, my mouth
had no way
with names,
my eyes were blind,
and something started in my soul,
fever or forgotten wings,
and I made my own way,
deciphering
that fire,
and I wrote the first faint line,
faint, without substance, pure
nonsense,
pure wisdom
of someone who knows nothing,
and suddenly I saw
the heavens
unfastened
and open,
planets,
palpitating plantations,
shadow perforated,
riddled
with arrows, fire and flowers,
the winding night, the universe.
And I, infinitesimal being,
drunk with the great starry
void,
likeness, image of
mystery,
felt myself a pure part
of the abyss,
I wheeled with the stars,
my heart broke loose on the wind.
poem by Pablo Neruda
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You Only Need The Heart The Soul
to be a poet
(what they think is needed is the
discipline to fully master the craft)
one needs (however)
only the heart
the soul, the rest when summoned
properly
comes without much
hesitation, for in time, when you are
true and faithful
words come like servants
and arrange themselves like furniture
the chairs walk in
to form the dining set
with the center table
the curtains hang themselves
on window borders
to form a frame
a perfect perspective
to view the sea
of art.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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With The Mind
Never in times of change
Have there been solids of words
And their clauses built on paper.
Never in heavenly stars are planets
Housed to keep away intelligent beings.
Change expels us with the lotion,
A stage of writing achieves clarity,
Words build like skyscrapers to enlighten,
Words justify words to the penny.
Let the closets and rain jackets
Smother the body with joys of the heart.
Change has intoxicated the mind withÂ
The soul.
poem by Naveed Akram
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In Your Conceit
at the height of your conceit
you even think
that the sun shines only
for you
this morning
well, i cannot blame you
you are the better
poet
in your little corner
and yes, the earth is still the
center of this universe
and all the planets. the moons and that stars
all revolve around
you
mister poet.
i know i miss the sun, and the infinite voiceless void
they too bow before your highness
dear poet.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Careless Words
Careless words clutter the galaxy,
Chunky tales have no end to their galaxy;
Yet enchanted we stand in this tallness,
Dazzling and bright are the stars for us.
Dear prizes await the distinct, as the galaxy
Shall suffer from them from time to time,
Direful consequences await the suffered,
Much time depresses us while we slaughter.
Extra-large thoughts clutter our stars with pain,
Deranged mad brains cluster as stars
In this field of vision, in this dead space.
I see delight and delicious food in the stars.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Faithful Poet To His Craft....
he is getting bald over
words
emaciated having forgotten
several meals
because he is faithful to
his craft
everyday he writes
more poems than he could
muster
for his heavenly muses
on paper the poems become
written
well sculpted with curves
and smooth finishes
he does not know whether
they are read somewhere
but he does not care
on nights when he finds himself
alone and abandoned
by fate
he makes a fire
at the center of his yard
puts all those paper poems
there
all burned
smokes like some forms of
ghosts
go to the night skies
to be with the countless stars
in the extreme cold
of silence
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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When We Are Far Away
when we are far away from each other
at continent's length
we want to reach each other's arms and
when we cannot we always have someone
some other cause to blame
like the zodiac, or the alignment of the stars
and the planets, or the society or even
the structures like some falling pillars
and blasted walls
but in truth when we meet and become
so near like a dinner for two
or a dance where our cheeks lean over
each other we soon realize this feeling of
i detest you and you detest me
we soon realize, that this feeling of indifference
has stayed within our hearts
for truly we have identified with the world in pain
and to take revenge for a sickness without cure
we pretend we are humans missing another likeness.
it happens, right there where we exchanged words
we must accept, another relationship has ended
and we in fact, really do not care less.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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397
when we are far away from each other
at continent's length
we want to reach each other's arms and
when we cannot we always have someone
some other cause to blame
like the zodiac, or the alignment of the stars
and the planets, or the society or even
the structures like some falling pillars
and blasted walls
but in truth when we meet and become
so near like a dinner for two
or a dance where our cheeks lean over
each other we soon realize this feeling of
i detest you and you detest me
we soon realize, that this feeling of indifference
has stayed within our hearts
for truly we have identified with the world in pain
and to take revenge for a sickness without cure
we pretend we are humans missing another likeness.
it happens, right there where we exchanged words
we must accept, another relationship has ended
and we in fact, really do not care less.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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